A teacher's story

The student-teacher relationship has long been an interesting one and which is percieved differently among world cultures. Some are taught to fear their teachers, adulate them like gods, bow down in ultimate obedience. You get the drift. And in others it's quite the opposite, where the establishing of an equal relationship is encouraged. To share ideas and learn from each other.

But what possibly doesn't change is that all teachers have lives outside school, just like their students. which often isn't given much thought. Every morning, when we walk into class, there's the professor, waiting to begin another class, surrounded by all the symbols that give them that status - pens, notes, slides. Ever thought what they ate for breakfast? Who's their best friend? Where did they go on their last holiday? The characteristics that make them people, not just teachers.

Recently, I've been discovering the backgrounds of my professors based on what they share in class and their work which is available online. So many of them have fascinating existences beyond the premises of 640 Commonwealth Avenue.

As mentioned in some of my previous posts, one has Parkinson's and fights the disease everyday with a beautiful, undying sprit. Another had a rough childhood, rougher marriage and emerged from both, stronger and sparkling. And some share lifetimes with the same person, cherishing their spouse whom they're glad to have by their side as their teenaged children head off to college. I feel like Matilda in Roald Dahl's book by the same name, who learns of Ms. Jenny's life outside school.

The next time you're in class, let your mind wander just this once. Try seeing your teacher as a person rather than a professor, for just a couple of moments. You may gain an education rather than a lesson.

Triumphing over Parkinson's

"The good thing about Parkinson's is that it can't kill you," he says. It's ironic that a man who ran regularly and bicycled 15 miles a day just four years ago, now concentrates hard just to rise from his seat.

"I'm very self-conscious," he admits. "But the medicines help. See, my hands aren't shaking as much," he says, holding one out.

I see.

"Please don't be self-conscious. There's so much more to you to notice than that."

He's grateful for the comment. Now I just wish he takes it to heart.

What Parkinson's?

You're immaculately dressed and always on time. You're never grumpy and are regular to class. You take pride in your past while being hopeful of the future. Your eyes twinkle with mischief like that of a seven-year old boy. You've lived a full life and don't see why you should slow down now. Neither do we.

You're bursting with energy and I know for a fact that if you had been healthier, it would have been hard keeping up with you. It's already a challenge to match your step.

And while I have to admit that you're not always the best to teach the subject, I think you teach us plenty more. About life and what lies beyond the textbooks. That a smile can take you far and that no reason is good enough to give up on life or yourself. You are alive as long as you breathe and it's a crime to not take advantage of every second. You teach us about life - not by words but by your shining example. You make me want to be a better person. Parkinson's disease has found a tough opponent in you. Here's to your undaunting strength and tireless spirit. I hope that you continue to spread your infectious cheer.