As all teachers know, most often you cannot see the fruit of a day’s work. It is invisible and remains so, maybe for years. I was reminded of this at the end of last year.
For the past 12 years I have been privileged to teach at Eunice High School in Bloemfontein. It is a “happy” school where both teachers and learners get the chance to do their best, to learn how to live, a school where a sense of belonging is encouraged.
Five years ago I was teaching life orientation to the grade eight learners.Â
I remember sharing a Dr Seuss quote with them as we spoke about our uniqueness: “Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”
To end the lesson each learner was given a blank piece of paper. I asked them to add a heading “I am unique because…” to the top of the page and tape this to their back collars. In silence the learners moved around the class and added reasons for one another’s uniqueness to the pages.Â
One learner, who was always very quiet, found it difficult to participate, but the group was encouraged to make each girl feel part of the activity. We knew there had to be something special, something unique in each of the learners. The bell rang and the learners left the class. My eye followed that one girl as she removed the paper from her back and read it.
In November last year this girl completed her grade 12 examination and she asked if she could speak to me. To my amazement she took out the piece of paper that was taped to her collar five years earlier. She shared with me the struggle she went through as a grade eight learner and how she considered giving up.Â
She was convinced that there was nothing special about her — until she removed the paper and read the good others saw in her.
That piece of paper was kept in her school blazer until her last school day.
Working daily with young people, I remind myself that as teachers we should remember that appreciation can make a day — even change a life — and that all that is necessary is our willingness to put it into words.