The teachers who taught me more than a subject

I have always wanted to become a teacher. Perhaps it is because of the teachers I have met along the way.

I have never been able to name just one teacher who changed my life. There are too many. Some taught me subjects, others taught me confidence, curiosity and the courage to ask questions. A few simply showed up when I needed them.

That is what teaching has come to mean to me: not just what a teacher teaches, but what they leave behind.

A teacher may walk into a classroom with a lesson plan, but they never quite know what a student has brought with them that day. A student may be struggling at home, feeling lost, afraid of failure or simply unable to concentrate. A good teacher notices that there is more going on than a bad grade.

Fortunately the teachers that I have come across have listened, encouraged and, sometimes, gone well beyond what their job required. 

The teachers I still remember

After our families, schools, colleges and universities are where we spend some of the most important years of our lives. We made friends there. We grew up there. We make mistakes there. And, along the way, we meet teachers who gradually become mentors, advisers and, sometimes, something close to family.

There is always a generation gap between teachers and students. But the teachers I remember are the ones who tried to cross it. They made an effort to understand the world their students were growing up in, rather than expecting every student to fit into the world they already knew.

For me, every teacher matters regardless of what they taught. Years later, I often remember less about the subject itself than the person who taught it.

If I started listing all the teachers whose names have stayed with me, I could probably go on for hours.

From kindergarten onwards, I have never quite forgotten the teachers I loved. Sometimes I think I could forget my own name before I forgot theirs.

Nilima Akter Ma'am and Mosharrof Hossain Sir are two people I especially want to thank. They noticed my interest in English and, more importantly, took it seriously. They helped me realise that English was not simply a subject I happened to enjoy. It was something I could build a future around. Eventually, I chose to study English Literature.

I still have that curiosity about language and literature. I suspect I always will.

The teacher who made learning a story

Then there is Mannan Sir.

There were times when I simply did not want to study. Instead of forcing me to sit down with a book, he would tell me stories. Even when I was in college, he knew that sometimes the easiest way to get me interested in something was to make it a story first. At the time, I probably did not think much about it.

Looking back, I realise those stories did something to me. They made me curious. They fed my imagination. They showed me that learning did not always have to begin with a textbook.

Sometimes it could begin with someone saying, "Let me tell you a story."

The teachers who made me try

Shafique Sir introduced me to the digital world, particularly computers and photography. I never imagined I would one day be able to pick up a camera and confidently cover an event. But he made me believe I could try.

It sounds like a small thing. But it was not.

Sometimes all it takes to do something new is for one person to make you feel that you are capable of doing it.

Mosaddeq Sir taught me something I still need reminding of: learning does not have an age limit. Leaving a classroom does not mean we have finished learning.

Shihab Sir has been there through some of my more confused moments — when I have been stuck while writing an article, come up with something childish or simply needed an idea. He has given me countless suggestions and encouraged me to put those ideas into words.

Asif Sir, Shibaji Sir and Pradhan Sir taught me to be curious in a different way.

They made me realise that almost anything can be researched if you care enough to ask the right questions.

Something that matters to society can become a subject of inquiry. An issue can become a discussion. An idea can become the beginning of research.

More than anything, they gave me the confidence to think.

These are only some of the teachers I have met along the way. And, honestly, I am probably still troubling many of them with questions, requests and half-formed ideas. The remarkable thing is that they are still there. I do not take that for granted.

Teaching is harder than it looks

The older I get, the more I realise how difficult teaching actually is. Imagine a classroom with 30 or 40 students. None of them is the same.

They have different personalities, families, abilities, interests and ways of learning. Some are confident. Some are painfully shy. Some understand immediately. Others need someone to explain the same thing three times.

A teacher has to somehow reach all of them. Teaching is not simply standing in front of a classroom and talking while students take notes. It is trying to make people learn.

I have watched my teachers move between classes, consultation hours, assignments, events and countless other responsibilities. I have seen them prepare lectures, answer questions and make time for students even when they were clearly busy themselves.

Sometimes I wonder how they manage it all. And somehow, they still remember us. They remember who needs extra help. They notice when someone who is usually talkative suddenly becomes quiet. They know which student has potential but does not yet have the confidence to see it.

A lot of what teachers do happens so quietly that students may not realise it until years later.

They taught me to try

My teachers also helped me step outside my comfort zone.

I used to be afraid of many things, including speaking in front of people and trying things I was not sure I could do. They pushed me to try anyway.

They taught me that failure was possible. But they also taught me that failure was not the end of the story.

I remember, too, feeling a little jealous when one of my favourite teachers gave more attention to another student. It is an embarrassing thing to admit. But I understand it differently now. That student may simply have needed the attention more than I did.

Every student walks into a classroom carrying something the others cannot see. Some are dealing with family problems. Some are struggling with confidence. Some are trying to keep up while quietly falling behind.

A teacher's attention was never something any one student could own.

Perhaps that is another reason teaching demands so much of the people who do it.

Talk to your teachers

Whenever juniors ask me what they should do when they are struggling, I tell them the same thing: Talk to your teachers. Be honest with them. Tell them what is actually happening rather than pretending everything is fine. Do not assume they will misunderstand you before you have given them the chance to listen.

I know this because I have experienced it myself.

The teachers who have mattered most in my life were not necessarily the ones who had all the answers. They were the ones I felt I could approach with a question, a problem or sometimes just an idea.

There is a saying that teachers are the ladders that help us climb higher. I like that image, but there is something else about a ladder that matters. It does not resent you for climbing past it. A good teacher wants to see a student go further.

They want their students to become more knowledgeable, more capable and more confident — even if those students eventually go places their teachers never did.

The reason I want to teach

I am proud of my teachers. I do not know whether I have made them proud yet. I hope I have. I had my own dreams and my own willpower, of course. But my teachers gave those things somewhere to go.

They gave me ideas. They encouraged me to learn. They pushed me when I was afraid. They corrected me when I was wrong. They stayed beside me when I doubted myself. They helped shape the person I became.

Perhaps that is why I want to become a teacher myself one day.

I do not know whether I could ever become like the teachers I admire. They have set a standard that may be difficult to reach. But I have learnt from them what I think matters most.

A teacher does not have to be perfect. They have to be present. They have to listen. They have to notice. They have to understand that the student sitting in front of them is more than a roll number, a grade or an answer sheet.

Most of all, they have to help a student believe that they are capable of something.

If I ever get the chance to teach, I hope I can give my students even a small part of what my teachers have given me.

So, this Teachers' Day, I do not want to thank only one teacher. I want to thank all of them.

Happy Teachers' Day to every teacher who has shaped me, guided me and helped me become who I am.

You did not only teach me subjects. You taught me how to learn, how to think, how to ask questions, how to try again — and, perhaps most importantly, how to believe that I could.