........The Journey
Today
I write. I write of a roller coaster journey that took me on a ride of mixed
emotions changed decisions and a solidifying of my love, passions and calling.
Today I write of my first day of school. Although my story might be filled with
tales of insecurities and trying to fit in, it is slightly different. It is not
about my first day at kindergarten or my first day after a transfer from one
school to another, but it is my first day on the other side. The other side of
the table, literally on the other side of the table, today is my first day as a
teacher.
Today
as I write I am not sure where to start. Now I live in a small country called
Trinidad and Tobago it is a twin island state in the Caribbean. It is a very
laid back country. The school that I was
placed in is approximately one hour and forty five minutes from where I live.
To those that live in larger countries that might sound really close but for me
from Trincity to Couva the distance seemed really far. I did not have a car and
it took me eight forms of transportation daily to get too and from work. I left
home at 4:30 am. I was not too sure where I was going. I was the only one awake
at my home my sister and parents were still asleep. It was still dark when I walked
to the Eastern main road to get my first means of transportation. My heart was
filled with fear and excitement at the same time. Imagine having so many
butterflies in your stomach at the same time that you feel the urge to go to
the toilet but you know you just came from the toilet. This was the first time I
ever left my house to travel somewhere so early in the morning.
As
I sat in the Maxi taxi I was surprise at the number of people that travelled so
early in the morning. The needle sticking effect of the cold morning Caribbean breeze
somehow clamed my nerves. However, I was continuously slapped in the face by
the wind coming through the window caused by the moving maxi taxi. I was kept
fully alert. I stopped at Curepe Junction and took a taxi to Chaguanas; the
sight of sugar cane fields that early in the morning is such a calming sight.
The morning mist simply sat on the flower heads of the sugar cane. The intensity
of the fug made you feel to stop and capture some in a bottle for the day.
After
I arrived in Chaguanas I took another car to Couva. This trip was also
captivating. Although I have seen the sugar cane fields so many times before
this, it was the first time I saw it so early in the morning. The greens looked
more intense and the mist of the morning made it look so magical. A sight so
captivating but as years pass becomes so familiar.
Finally,
I arrived at the school and there were very few students and the office was
closed. School is carded to start at 7:15 am and I am an hour early. The sun
was beginning to show some of its glory, but the atmosphere was still cold so I
just sat and waited. Within a half of an hour someone came and opened the office.
Then I waited again. I was greeted with strange looks from teachers as they
slowly entered to office to sign the teachers register. You see I almost looked
as a student; I was very young and one year out of secondary school.
Everyone just looked; few words were spoken besides good morning.
There
were three teachers in particular I remember that asked specifically if I was
the new teacher. Although, the youth in my face did not suggest that I could
ever be a teacher. I was confident that my clothes surely did. My younger sister
brought me the ideal teacher wear for my first day it was a brown pants and a
matching cream shirt. Later that week my mother brought me a pink and a lilac
shirt. Now you need to understand at that time I had my own insecurities about wearing
pink but I was really lacking clothes and my mother got it on sale plus I was
not going to be paid for three months. So I just wore it, at least I had work
clothes to wear. I can remember once in
the hall, a female student tried to insult me in front of her friends for no
reason. She shouted to me “sir duh wear that shirt to school again eh” with the
same speed calmly replied “ok but you need to know I am not wearing it for you
eh” much to the amusement of the other students. Both she and her friends were
careful as to what the told me from that day. Later, I was known as the teacher
‘who had talks’ it was not that I was an insulting person but I was a quick
thinker and could give ‘picong’ as much as I can take it. This did not go to
well with students who can only give picong. I have matured as a teacher since
those times most times if a student tries to insult me I would simply say “Jesus
loves you!!” Most times anyway.
.....Great advice
As
I sat in the office and looked around I was stunned by the dull gray that was
attached to the walls. Equally depressing was the furniture in the room gray
tables gray cabinets, dull wooden counters with white counter tops. Maybe because
I am an artist I might have bias opinion but I firmly believe depressing spaces
create depressing people, it is only a matter of time. That is why I feel
sometimes hospitals contribute to patients’ sickness, it’s just a depressing
decor. That’s just my personal opinion.
No wonder most of the staff seemed unfriendly and depressed looking.
Later I learnt from experience that the first day of school is not always
exciting for teachers we always feel that you could do with one more week. I
finally experienced that depression. After I got married I really did not want
to return to work after two months vacation.
One of the teachers that spoke to me that I remember distinctively was Mrs
Ishmael, who became one of the teachers that I really respected. Mrs Ishmael
was a short Muslim lady she always wore matching hijabs to go with her dresses. As she signed the register she looked
at me in the face and said,
“Hi good morning are you
the new teacher,”
“Yes”
“Oh ok my name is Mrs
Ishmael”
“Hi I am Joel....... Joel Joefield”
“Well I could see this is
your first school?”
Without me asking a thing she looked at me in
the eyes. It was the kind of look a mother would give her son when she wants
him to warn him about the use of drugs. The sort of look that a pastor would
give someone when telling them about salvation. A type look of that said. ’Your
life is depending on what I am about to say so please listen carefully’. Then
Mrs Ishmael said,
“Let me tell you something. I know you are new
to this. You are young and good looking; the children would like you and try to
take advantage of you. They would think that you are their friend. When you go
to the class be assertive, aggressive if need be. Do not smile and joke with
any of the children, but be a serious and a no nonsense person.”
With a smile I nodded my
head and simply said, “Thank you” and she left. Looking on was another teacher.
I can’t remember his name but he had one of those drunk looking faces. The type
of face that older people would say ‘looks like a bottle’. He was a short man
with patches of gray hear, dark lips that looked as a result of smoking and
sleepy eyes. To me even his speech seemed stale drunk, a little slurred. He waited
for Mrs Ishmael to leave to before he came over and said,
“ Duh study she. You would
have to feel out each class as they come.”
“Good morning,”
“Good morning, but you
hear what I said eh.”
“Ok well... errr thank you
so much for the advice.”
Again I smiled and gave
him a look as if I understood and agreed. For some reason maybe an inner feeling,
I felt Mrs Ishmael’s advice seemed much sounder. So I took it.
For
every class that I meet for the first time I always put on the no nonsense
attitude. Although I was not yet a theatre student I was a fairly good actor. I
definitely remember one class that I was really polite with the first time that
we meet. I cannot remember why I was so polite to them, but that class turned
out to be one of the most difficult classes I ever had. From Form One to Form Three
I was always challenged by that class. Later I will write more about the
characters in this class but just to give an idea, I remember for an end of
term exam there was a student that for
every answer he simply wrote, “!#%@* you
Mr gofeeld.” He could not even spell my name correctly. It was this same
student that I saw putting gel in his hair while I was teaching. When I asked,
what that was, he shouted at me, “Sir, that’s my jock cream.” Being as witty as
I was there were still some things that just caught me off guard. I remember I
just stood there in shock at what he said thinking what to do. By then the
class was on the ground rolling in laughter. I simply told him, “You can take
your jock cream out of my class and enjoy yourself.” I was faced with these types
of challenges for the first three years. No matter how strict I got with them
they just stretched my patience and my love for teaching. However, looking
back, it was a good thing. Because of this class I started to pray for my
classes and for them to understand what I taught. I guess they helped me bring
Jesus into my work place.
The
Principal arrived at school. I filled out my form and waited until 12:15 for
the PM shift to begin because I was placed on the afternoon shift. It was there
I meet the colleagues I would have to work with and my classes. Wow !!! the
story is now going to start.
