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Just listen – Half of the delinquencies melt

2 November 2009

My first period (in Shaba Jr. H. S, Paro) that day was a lesson in Chemistry in Class VIII. In fact, Chemistry was thrust on me (as greatness on Shakespeare’s Malvolio), as an appendage, extra to my ‘English’.

That day, I was confident with ‘balancing of equations’ because I had had ample help from the veteran Chemistry teacher, Mr. Chettiar of Gaupey High School.

But, as I neared the classroom, I saw all girls (only four of them) and a couple of boys (out of the total eight boys) standing outside. I asked them why. “Stinking, Sir, stinking,” some said half in anger and half in revulsion, whereas two of the girls evaded my question. A classroom stinking? In baffled wonder I stood there. The academic space called the classroom, which should be wafting the fragrance of knowledge and skills …!!??

“Sir, our Rinchen (not the real name) has vomited…Akey Sir, he is drunk,” one of the evader-girls informed me in a volley of words, drenched in disgust.

Though I could not believe my ears, I entered the classroom and saw a huddle of Rinchen in sound sleep at his desk, his morning contribution – the vomit – lying at his feet in a puddle. Yes, the room did stink.

I asked Lobsang, the strongest of the boys, to carry Rinchen to the hostel. He did. And, we soon cleaned the room. The rest of my students – a manageable ten of them – actively washed and mopped. After all, they excelled in non-academic exercises though they struggled in studies.

Now, the classroom, we felt, was pure as a nun. I thought I would teach my confident ‘balancing of equations.’ But then, the other evader-girl could not control, “Sir, these boys should not drink, no Sir?” A sweeping generalization, indeed! And a legitimate moral anguish.

She went on at some length on the sacrilege that Rinchen had committed. I listened with fond curiosity at and interest in her honest, innocent outburst as a grandpa would listen to his grandchild’s moral outrage.

Then, I, keeping aside ‘balancing’, talked on the pros and cons of drinking, citing examples of accidents and family wreckages precipitated by drinking. I assured them that Rinchen’s case would be discussed in a staff meeting and due action taken. In a minute, the bell rang and I did not ‘balance’.

As our Principal had been away, the Officiating Principal called a staff meeting, in which Rinchen’s suspension from the school for a week was agreed on. Therefore, an unusual assembly was held, which Rinchen – now apparently sober – too attended.

No sooner was his suspension announced than Rinchen (one of the tallest of the lot) shouted from behind, “You hopeless teachers, why a suspension? What did I do?…” The bewildered staff dismissed the assembly. Rinchen went on and on with his rabid ranting among the scattered students. Soon, a core group of teachers was formed as ‘counsellors’. Each of them listened to Rinchen turnwise.(It is but a secret that some of them coaxed, advised and threatened too.)At last, he relented and came up with a long apology letter, punctuated with ‘unpunctuations’, misspellings, run-ons, fragments, whimsical articles and tense shifts.

The novice-teacher in me noticed then the impact of listening and counseling; he who came as lion was humbled as a lamb. That incident was a crucible of transformation for Rinchen. For, he is today a gem of a responsible citizen. His teachers’ patient listening to his soul and his nurture was like a soothing shower on the parched soil. That was the miraculous healing touch. Listen in empathy – not sympathy: it works wonders.

Epilogue: But…but, have we the luxury of time? Haven’t we got misplaced priorities that rob off our time? Much of our mindset about discipline is rooted in the philosophy of the cane

Many of us are sadistic disciplinarians. In the words of R. K. Narayan:

I used to think that one’s guru was born clutching a cane in his right hand while the left held a pinch of snuff between the thumb and forefinger. He took a deep inhalation before proceeding to flick the cane on whatever portion of myself was available for the purpose. I really had no idea what I was expected to do or not do to avoid it. I could never imagine that a simple error of calculation in addition, subtraction or multiplication (I never knew which) would drive anyone hysterical.

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Posted by Bhutan Observer · Filed Under Opinion 

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