Memoirs of an Amnesiac

It is true when they say that among the teachers whom one really went through, one would only remember at least two types --- those who have been genuinely kind and encouraging and those who were the descendants of Hitler!

All those who are in between have drifted off to limbo. Pardon me teachers but I really don't remember most of you now, except for that Grade Three teacher of mine who really made me faint because she would not allow us to have a lunch break. To her, the practice must be done and performed well. There was also another one who beat our hands with bamboo sticks if we didn't do our home works.

We all had probably been in at least one strict teacher in our whole student life. Teachers whom we feared even when we were not with them yet. Teachers who eventually become our own advisers. Those who would not allow that we get into the classroom without a "shoe covering" (gee, I forgot the term). Those whose gaze are worse than that Gorgon named Medusa. Those whose mere presence sends off a magnitude of 8 or higher earthquake, sending us into deep heart palpitations not brought about by caffeine fix.

Somewhere, somehow, in the deep recesses of our rather confused and frightened brains, we understand the premise for such behavior. We don't blame it to PMS or varying high blood pressure, nor to a teacher's quirkiness. We simply understand and even with the fear, respect (which is more often than not described as something earned not given) eventually percolates in us, helping us process that with the strict behavior comes love and concern. Because if one teacher does not ask for perfection, how else will he/she demand for achievement? If that teacher will tolerate bad behavior in view of humane reasons, then how else will that teacher develop character?

The world I have been made aware of is harsh, where everybody steps on everybody just to reach the top. Where one must learn to have character, to stand out among the rest. Where the only thing that makes one go through life with steadfast resolves is through character.

My very first teacher was my strict father. I know I would not have been the person I am now without him. It was through him that I learned to battle life's adversities with strength because he molded me to be a strong person. Somebody who has been through the toughest things in life.

Now, I am not in the right position to speak for what teachers have done in the field. I can only glean insights from mine and my experiences. I am certain though that teachers strive to do the best they can --- imposing discipline on students (especially in this present day and age) because that is what they studied in school for and because that is what they deem right, no matter which way people see it. They may be too harsh sometimes and deadly (to some extent). Yet, teachers know that with discipline comes love. For them, it would be better to be strict than sorry.

I could not say I am a masochist for having enjoyed the chastening done on my being. But what I'm trying to say is that strictness is actually discipline, that which is needed in developing character. Like rambunctious kids, students need guidance in their young and inexperienced lives.

Strictness means guidance and discipline. It's time to behave now because that strict teacher is approaching.