Words

As I look back on my few years in SGS…3 years 5 months and 18 days, I really don’t know what I feel. This is really not like me. But recently, I am finding it a challenge to express what I truly feel.

I have come to one big conclusion: Words are cheap. Yes, I know. Nothing original about this but words really are cheap. That means a lot. I am not saying this in cynicism, mind you.

Recently, I heard someone grouch to a new teacher about teaching and how she hates it so much that she can’t wait to quit. On any other day I would have rolled my eyes and switched to a different channel. However on this day, I had to intervene. There could be nothing further from the truth.

I know her well enough to know how well-liked she is by her students and how bubbly and humorous and witty she is, attractive to many people – adults and teenagers alike. I have seen her mark and I know how much effort she puts in- painstakingly commenting, correcting, writing non-stop. Would she if she hadn’t cared?

“No, you don’t,” I interrupted her. “You love teaching. The kids love you. You’re funny, and you get along well with all your students, even the very difficult ones. Students remember you long after you have taught them.” From the look on her face, I think she met my outburst with a mixture of surprise, shock, irritation and sadly, defiance.

More recently, I was asked to explain a decision I had made. A personal decision. I couldn’t. I couldn’t explain. It didn’t mean that it wasn’t the right decision, was it? I just couldn’t verbalise…or maybe I just didn’t want to. I didn’t want to because I felt that my verbal explanation would never and could never accurately reflect the reasons underlying my decision.

The emotions of a human being are so rich that there is no way these utterances of sound can ever equal what a human being is feeling at any one point in time. A large reason why I consciously make a deliberate effort to ensure that my verbal “I love yous” to my wife forms a minute fraction of the expression of my love to her.

If you ask me if I am happy to be leaving, I can’t say that I am not. If you ask me if I am sad to be leaving, I can’t say that I am not either. Will I miss the school? Perhaps, in some ways but not in others. I could go on and on with my explosion of ambiguities.

Words…