Shining Star International School Student Blog

Happy Teacher’s day- By Dilsha XI A

Posted on December 13, 2016

I cursed my very dear friends for pulling me into the volunteering business. I can’t blame them alone. I should have thought twice when I gave my name for taking care of fourth graders for the whole day. It was teacher’s day and this was not my idea of having fun. Was I like this in when I was in fourth?

When I entered the class of fourth, I was met with children jumping off tables and running around chasing each other. No matter how hard I tried these children won’t sit in their seats. I don’t remember being so hyper when I was in fourth. I mean they were so hyper I felt like they could go for an ad of red bull energy drink. Another thing was they were so obsessed with the board duster. If you scold them the first thing they do is grab the duster and throw it at you. If by some miracle you caught the duster then the whole class tackles you to the ground and everyone tries to grab the duster as if you were going to steal it. I don’t know if people actually do that- you know, steal dusters. Nevertheless, I survived the day.

Mentally saluting the teachers teaching that class, I was returning  to my own class when I noticed the bruising on my right arm. Something common when a group of 10-year olds tackles you to the ground so they can grab their precious duster. I had a period in the next fifteen minutes and it was one of my favorite classes. So I just sucked up the pain and went to class. Sucking up the pain was easier than I thought but by the time I reached my class I was in tears.

The pain was bearable and of course that’s why I cried. The teacher in my class was really saddened by my physical state of one arm cradling the other and standing like a broken stick. I’m seriously not exaggerating.  She kept asking what happened but how I can tell her that children, half my size did this to me. I got some self esteem to protect!  Ignoring my protests she dragged me to the nurse’s room.

There she waited till the nurse checked my bruising, applied some cream and made me lay down on the bed. She was there all the while, missing her period in my class. After making remarks that I should take care of myself and the nurse assuring that she will call her if she needs something, she left. A while later, the nurse came up and asked me a question that I probably will never forget for the rest of my life:” Was that your mother?”

To this day that teacher is unaware about this incident.

Dilsha

XI-A