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This story is by a former SPM student who wanted to share his experience of a teacher who changed his life.
Back in 1995, I was a bratty kid in Darjah 5. Things were tough at home: my parents were divorced, and I lived with my father.
My father was the stern disciplinarian who didn’t like seeing a “C” on my report card. If he saw a “C,” I received the rotan. Hard enough to leave bruises, and he drew blood more than once.
As the local elder, my father had a fearsome reputation in our small corner in PJ old town. He was feared and respected by all the neighbors in equal measure. The 90s were a different time, and abusive parents… well… things aren’t the same as today.
My mathematics teacher scared me.
Mr. Gopal was my Darjah 5 Mathematics teacher, and he scared me, because he looked a bit like my father. He had this stern face that even the school gangsters were scared of.
I was useless at Maths. I just can’t ‘get’ numbers, even the basics like fractions and long division. I could do it, but I was incredibly slow at it. I could never answer a question when called upon. The exams? I could never answer all the questions on a single Mathematics exam.
When we get the report card for the first half of the year, it’s normal for parents to sign and acknowledge that they have seen their grades.
I remember looking at my Standard 5 end of year results, and my world shattered. I saw the only “E” on my report card: Mathematics. I knew what awaited me at home. The blood drained out of my face.
I didn’t want to go home for fear of my father’s wrath.
I don’t know how long I sat there, staring at that Grade. That “E.” When Mr Gopal dismissed the class, I was still frozen at my desk. I couldn’t make myself move out of my seat.
The other kids had left. I knew my 10-year-old self would suffer badly at my father’s hands. I felt a hand on my shoulder, shook, and started crying.
Mr. Gopal was behind me. Seeing my report card, he picked it up and walked back to his desk. He took out the red fountain pen he used to mark our assignments and studied my report card for a long moment.
Then he did something I had no idea it was even possible for a teacher to do. He changed the “E” to a “B-.”
He looked me in the eyes and gave me the slightest, upward quirk at the corner of his mouth, the barest hint of a smile. He handed my report card back to me, and said:
“Earn this grade.”
Although he spoke softly to me, it was like hearing the rumbling of God’s voice from the heavens. His compassion froze me in place. I don’t know how, but he knew how terrified I was, and why.
He said four more words, “I will tutor you.”
That day changed how I saw Mr. Gopal. He was not just a cold, distant, disciplinarian educator, but someone who was interested in my learning. After that, for the rest of the year, he would tutor me for several hours after school every week.
I couldn’t believe my UPSR results.
It was the last class of the year after our USPR results had been announced, and Mr. Gopal was sitting at his desk, reading a book.
I was sitting there in Mathematics class, staring in wonder at my grade in that subject. I had an “A-.”
The class was quiet when Mr. Gopal started packing his things: Five minutes to the last bell, the last time he would dismiss my Mathematics class.
He saw me looking at him. He nodded once, and there was a hint of a smile on his face. Just the barest upturn at the corners of his mouth. The hint of a smile vanished as fast as it had appeared. But I’m sure I saw it.
But that wasn’t the last time I saw him. I made it a point to visit my primary school, even in secondary school. Sometimes, near his house in SS14, I talk about my studies and his teaching. Other times, we would sit in companionable silence. He was always willing to help with a mathematics question when I had one, even in Sekolah Menengah.
I finished my SPM with straight A’s.
When I got my SPM results, I tracked down Mr. Gopal and found him in the same small house he had called home for decades. I presented my SPM results to him, showing all “A’s,” including mathematics.
He studied my results momentarily, then looked me in the eye and gave me that same hint of a smile. “Looks like you did it. You earned that grade.”
Once again, I saw that familiar nod, that barest hint of a smile on his face. As soon as it appeared, it vanished, but I’m sure I saw it.
The ultimate lesson that I learned from studying under Mr. Gopal was about kindness. He taught me that when you have power over another person, you wield that power with compassion. You tailor the use of that power to meet the needs of the individual.
Mr Gopal tutored me in more than just Mathematics. He taught me how to act with humility and grace.
Out of everything he taught me, it was his kindness that remained with me to this day.
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Also read: I Let My Teacher Beat Me Rather Than Embarrass my Parents About Their Poor English
I Let My Teacher Beat Me Rather Than Let Her Embarrass My Parents About Their Poor English
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