It was January 18, the first day of the new school year. The new grade R pupils had started arriving and the playground was soon filled with an atmosphere of excitement. The young girls and boys, some shy, some boastful, walked hand-in-hand with their parents on either side.
Their faces were glowing with expectation and their smiles stretched from ear to ear. Their moms had probably helped them choose outfits, washed their hair and combed it neatly the previous night for this special day.
I greeted each child lovingly and the parents, all by their names — what a task remembering all those names while they only had to remember one. The parents also greeted one another as if it was a reunion of sorts. Some of the children put down their over-sized backpacks as they started to explore the playground with its wonderful climbing equipment.
Some children were not yet so brave and needed a little more encouragement to let go of mommy’s hand. But with extra hugs and kind words from their caring parents they took the first shaky steps into their new world. They knew they were loved and they knew they had their parents’ support. A few tears were wiped off wet cheeks of one or two, moms and children, but a hug and cuddle soon cured all that.
I was waiting for Michael, whose name was on my class list. He had not yet arrived. However, my heart sank and ached when he did eventually arrive. He was dropped off on this special day by an unknown family friend. The vehicle stopped across the road from the school and he had to run across the road and through the gate all by himself. His little, torn backpack was swinging from side-to-side because it was empty. He had no one to hold his shaky hand and say “have a super day”, no one to tell him he was special, no one to tell him they believed in him, no one to tell him they loved him unconditionally. But I just knew from that moment that I had to.
What he needed most
I realised that he did not, and would not ever, have what the other children in this class had. Money would buy him a shiny backpack filled with all the items he needed for class, but love, acceptance, belief and support were what he needed most.
I knew that for his own development he required a great deal of extra time and support. He had never been in a school situation and did not know how to act, let alone react. Everything was overwhelming for him. However, I made a conscious effort to win him over and indeed, as time went on he adjusted well and enjoyed every day.
Michael was not living with his parents, he had no mom to cuddle him in bed at night; he lived in a house where his mother tongue was not spoken and he was the only minor. I realised that I was his “everything” when it came to providing comfort and unconditional love. So I made sure he understood through my words, discipline, structure, routine, guidance, support, learning experiences, encouragement and challenges that I believed in him and wanted what was best for him and that I loved and accepted him unconditionally.
Yes, I was everything to him that year and was rewarded. One morning he looked up from where he was busy with an activity and said: “Teacher, I like you.” He got up, grabbed me around the neck and said: “You’re my teacher.”
Who knows what the future holds for Michael? I can only hope that what I could give him was enough to last a lifetime.
– The name of the child has been changed to protect his identity.
Juanita van der Merwe is a grade R teacher at Piketberg High School in the Western Cape. She was a runner-up in the category of Excellence in Grade R Teaching in the 2010 National Teaching Awards.