Monday, March 26, 2007
I come from a family of teachers. I want to tell you about something new I discovered in my tutions last week. My mathematics teacher is a gaunt old man of sixty five years, with receeding silver hair and thick spectacles. He never was very significant to me, until I discovered this very same teacher had taught my father maths, thirty years ago! It felt strange to be in his presence, and there was a tingle which ran through my spine, because my father had been taught by this same man, many years ago...and now, all of a sudden, it was my turn. Time has moved on from the days long gone, when my father went to College, a popular and carefree little man to the new age of his daughter, who fails to understand maths properly. I think I am gifted to be a student of this teacher, because it is not often that one comes across the "old" and "experienced" teachers. Teaching is a profession that is changing. True, there are still great teachers, my mom is a teacher too, but I'd like to say there is no one who can beat the old teachers of thirty years ago. Nowadays, most teachers are not payed well, and for some, the profession it is a bread-earner, and nothing more. Many people become teachers, because they are forced to, and they are not truly interested in the subject. But the old lot, even though they are now pretty old, still love teaching. The teachers of the old times, from the Sharada Vilas of mysore, or the National College of Bangalore are one of the greatest that we can ever get...I think nothing can replace them.