Tribute to a Teacher

A good teacher is like a candle - it consumes itself to light the way for others. ~Author Unknown


There I was, four years old, my first day of Kindergarten.  I wore a new white uniform and a new green tie with a diagonal yellow stripe across it.  I wore new white socks and new black leather Mary Janes.  My shoes were a little too tight.  I had a new green school bag, which had in it a new little snack box with four cookies. Everything was new.  My attire was new, the place was new to me, the people were new.   I felt scared and nervous.  It was early morning and I was one of the first students to arrive at school.  I was not quite sure what I was supposed to do, so I just stood at the door of my classroom.  Then a kind face looked into mine, while a gentle voice told me to sit down.  I looked around, wondering where I should sit.  She told me to pick any chair I wanted since I was the first one there.  She took my school bag, set it aside and gave me some toys to play with.  Soon more children began to arrive.  One of them sat next to me and began to chew on a piece of pink-colored chalk.  Some of them began to cry.  I remember one of them cried really loud.  Another one cried until they threw up, while another soiled their pants.  Needless to say, it was quite a chaotic day. 

The next day didn't feel quite so awkward.  I walked into class and the lady with the kind face, I now knew as my teacher, greeted me good morning and took my bag.  She told me that it was good manners to say good morning back when anyone said that to me.  I took her words literally and said "Good Morning Back".  She laughed a happy laugh, held my chin in her hand and told me I was cute.  I felt like somehow my teacher made this a safe place to be.  Her name was Maureen Cordeiro, as I learned at some point.  She was like a mother to me and my classmates.  She gathered all of us around her like a mother hen and we were a her little chickens.  I have no idea how she managed to control all of us without going insane. 

Miss Cordeiro was born to be a teacher. She had so much love to give. She had the patience of Job. She had the gift of making each of her students feel special and unique. She was the cohesive force that brought all of us kids together to help us get to know each other better. She seemed to realize that teaching was not about the academics, but also about helping us tap into our potential and be the best we could be, no matter how young we were. The one thing I hated to do in Kindergarten was to write. For some reasons I didn't have the basic motor skills to hold a piece of chalk and get my hand to move at the same time. Miss Cordeiro used to hold my hand and help me. I then began to depend on my teacher's help for writing exercises, which she soon realized. One day she refused to help me and told me I could try to write on my own. I had made up my mind that I couldn't. I began to cry and ask her to help me. She told me in a calm but firm voice that I had to try. I held my ground but she wouldn't back down. I finally picked up the piece of chalk and held it to my writing slate. "Good," I heard her say, "Now write the letter A." I cried hard, but I wrote anyway, tears and snot dribbling down my face and on my slate. All the while, Miss Cordeiro stood behind me, encouraging me. When I was done she applauded, then wiped my face and said, "See? That wasn't so bad now, was it?" I learned that day that my teacher wasn't swayed by tantrums. I also learned that no matter how much I thought I couldn't do something, I needed to at least give it a try

 My friends and I had so much fun that year in Kindergarten.  We learned funny songs, we played games, we did art and craft projects.  One of our craft projects was tearing colored paper into little pieces and sticking them with glue like a mosaic on a larger piece of paper.  All the kids wanted to be over and done with their project.  I was so fascinated by how pretty a mosaic could look, and realized that if I tore up small bits of paper I would wind up with a prettier end result.  I sat there and tore and stuck and at the end had one of the nicest looking mosaics.  I remember being given a star for accomplishment.  Miss Cordeiro made sure to tell my mother how meticulous I was and how proud she was of me.   That year we also learned Mother Goose Nursery Rhymes, which I loved to recite these in front of the entire class.  I don't know if it was the attention I liked from everyone or just the fact that I was told that I was really good, but I loved it.  Of course, none of this was without Miss Cordeiro's encouragement.  I remember toward the end of the year being made to recite every Nursery Rhyme we had learned through the year.  The purpose of this exercise was to see if I would qualify for the prize for recitation.  I cinched it.   To this day, I think the biggest lesson I took away from all those years ago is to be comfortable speaking in a crowd.  I learned that and I learned to be a good teacher.  I don't teach for a living, but whenever I have to impart any kind of training or make a presentation, it is almost always a success.  Of course there were teachers that came along later and fine-tuned these skills I have developed, but I attribute these successes to Miss Cordeiro because she taught me the basics.

Years later my brother had the privilege of being taught by Miss Cordeiro as well. When I would go check up on my brother during recess, I would get a chance to talk to her. Nothing had changed. She was the same loving and affectionate lady as she was when she taught me. At that time she told me that my first day of school was her first day as a teacher. Now that I am all grown up, I wonder how nervous she must have been, but if she were, you would never have known. Miss Cordeiro continued to teach for years and bless so many students with her love, patience and knowledge. At some point she became Mrs. Maureen DSouza and had a family. She is now retired so she can enjoy the fruits of her labor. I am so fortunate to have got in touch with her again through Facebook. She is a also grandmother to a very lucky granddaughter. . .

I am so happy that Mrs DSouza is doing well.  I am so blessed to have been taught by her.  I am filled with so much gratitude that I can write this blog as a tributeAfter all, the first step to make this blog even possible was to be able to hold a piece of chalk and write on a slate.  That's one of the few things my teacher did for me.

Words are not enough to thank you for what you have done for me, Mrs. DSouza.  God Bless You.

This blog was supposed to be published last week because Teachers Day is observed on September 5th in India, to commemorate the birthday of Dr. S. Radhakrishnan, an academic philosopher and prolific teacher.  I believe that one week later it isn't any less relevant, because I will never stop being thankful.