DEAR TEACHER - by Marsal

The things teachers don't say out loud Before teaching practice, I thought I understood teachers. I didn't. I thought teaching was just about standing in front of a classroom, holding a marker, explaining a topic, asking questions, and giving assignments. Then I became the one standing in front of the classroom. And suddenly, teaching looked very different. As a student teacher, I have had days when I walked into the classroom fully prepared. My lesson plan was ready. My examples were arranged. I knew exactly what I wanted to teach. Then the students happened. One student was talking. Another was laughing. Someone was sleeping. Someone was busy disturbing the person beside them. And there was always that one student who seemed to have made it their personal mission to test the last drop of your patience. I would explain something. Silence. I would explain it again. More silence. Then I would ask, "Does everyone understand?" "Yes, ma." Five minutes later, I would ask a question about what I had just taught. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Sometimes, I just stand there and wonder, Was I talking to myself? There are days I leave the classroom frustrated. There are days I feel exhausted. There are days I wonder how teachers do this every single day. Because teaching is not just about knowing what to teach. Sometimes, the hardest part is getting people to listen. And that is something I never truly understood until now. I have come to realise that a teacher can be tired and still teach. A teacher can be worried and still smile. A teacher can have personal problems waiting at home and still walk into the classroom with a lesson plan. A teacher can spend hours preparing a lesson that some students will barely pay attention to. A teacher can repeat the same explanation ten times without giving up on the eleventh. And perhaps the most difficult part is that teachers are expected to remain patient even when their patience is being tested. We often see teachers as teachers. We forget that they are people first. They have bills. They have families. They have disappointments. They have bad days. They get tired too. But when they walk into the classroom, they are expected to leave all of that at the door. Nobody asks the teacher, "Are you okay today?" The question is usually, "Have you taught the topic?" And somehow, the teacher keeps going. My teaching practice has made me realise that students can be both the most frustrating and the most rewarding part of teaching. The same students who can make you want to pull your hair out can also give you a reason to smile. There are moments when a student finally understands something you have struggled to explain. There are moments when a quiet student raises a hand. There are moments when someone answers correctly and you realise, They were actually listening. And sometimes, a simple "Good morning, Ma" is enough to remind you why you are there. Those little moments matter. Because teaching is not always about seeing immediate results. Sometimes, you are planting seeds without knowing when they will grow. A teacher may never know which explanation changed a student's understanding. They may never know which encouraging word gave a student confidence. They may never know which lesson stayed with a child long after the examination was over. But they teach anyway. That is what I am beginning to understand. Teaching is an act of patience. It is an act of consistency. It is an act of hope. You keep showing up because you believe that somehow, something you say today might become useful to someone tomorrow. So, when I see teachers now, I don't just see someone standing in front of a board. I see someone who may have battled traffic to get to school. Someone who may be exhausted. Someone who may have prepared a lesson late at night. Someone who may have walked into a noisy classroom and still found the strength to say, "Good morning, students." I am only a student teacher, and already, the classroom has taught me something I could never have learned from a textbook: Teaching is not as easy as it looks from the student's seat. Sometimes, behind the teacher's calm voice is frustration. Behind the smile is exhaustion. Behind the lesson is preparation. Behind the correction is patience. And behind every "I have explained this before" is a teacher who is still willing to explain it again. So, to every teacher who keeps showing up despite the noise, the disrespect, the exhaustion, the difficult students and the countless challenges, I see you now. And I understand a little better. You are not just teaching students. Sometimes, you are teaching yourself how to keep going.

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