My Flaw
I deserved to be punished. Today for the first time in my life, I hit a child.
Perhaps to some people it’s one way, if not the best way to discipline a child, to educate them, to throw some sense into them, to remind them that somehow a quiet class is traditionally good. Oh, but as I ran my hand through that boy’s cheek, I’ve also placed my decency in the lowest place possible.
As a child, there was a time where I felt hands across my face when I somehow displeased the adults in my life. I never liked it. I hated it and always found ways to fight back projecting my objection in various ways. For some reason, at that earliest stage of life, I knew that it was plain erroneous to have anyone putting that much pressure on my body as a cause of anger. Thus, after feeling such way of punishment during my early years, I made a promise to myself to never lay a hand on anyone, especially a child.
Today I broke my own promise. I was physically exhausted and mentally disturbed this entire week. I kept few bad news in my head. I kept few drops of tears inside. I was faking my every smile. Still…it was no excuse to hit a child.
———-
My patience stood helpless on the ground as the entire class decided to be what I call unrefined. (God, this is the part where I thank those nutty royals for at least planting mannerism on me more than skin deep). I closed my eyes wishing that my headache would go away. I shushed the class for what seemed to be the millionth time. I told everyone gently to place, hell…glue their butt on their chair. I slammed a ruler once, feeling odd portraying that much aggression in class.
I was going ballistic convincing myself (trying to at least…) that I’m a goddamn good teacher. I know how to put materials, necessary ones in their heads and keep it there. I know how to make kids from anywhere laugh and put comfort on their lap. I goddamn know how to make parents praise their children because of the effort they’ve put in learning. I know how to make a white kid shut up and listen to me. I know how to make a black kid say hi to me. I know how to make a Chinese kid smile at me first. I know how to make Japanese bow 90 degrees and have no problem bowing back that much.
What is fuckin’ wrong with Thai kids being so damn preposterous 24/7?!
All I ever wanted to do was have fun teaching and smile in satisfaction at students who would finally toss away their fear for speaking English. Oh, but silly naïve me. Who would’ve thought that culture gap would be such a mean enemy toward me? Who would’ve thought that my patience would always be standing at the edge of a cliff? Who would’ve thought that I would stick around this long? Who would’ve thought that I begin to take no tolerance toward my fellow Asians?!
———-
That kid WAS the Devil. He was pulling all my chains and nerves, fully knowing I possessed only few left. He was physically unattractive with that malicious smile painted across his face since I stepped in the classroom. He created the charade and enjoyed every minute of it. I tapped his shoulder a bit harsh once, motioning for him to sit down yet he ignored my existence. Few of his friends decided to join and began jumping around the room. Some shouted my name, asking for my attention thinking whatever animal like behavior they were taking was something amusing.
No wonder you remain third world, I thought heavily.
The boy looked at me, daring me to do something, anything to stop him from his dominion. He laughed at my commands and loved at the fact that he was causing a bigger headache for me. He smiled at my fatigue. He enjoyed at the fact that I was plain helpless.
He came to me and laughed in my face. At that split second, I slammed my hand against his right cheek silencing the entire class. It was just too loud, I thought.
“Khun Sita…” A girl started.
“Don’t say a word.” I managed to hide the shock from my own action. The last time I placed pressure that much on a person’s cheek was a couple years ago when I was betrayed by a lover. Yet at that time, I held no regret. I was pleased and wished for repetition. But this time, looking at the boy’s 8 year old eyes, I was taken back to those moments where I myself felt hands running across my cheeks as a child.
“I don’t like you at all and I want you to know it. I want you to remember tomorrow also.” I said to the boy softly who still stood frozen in front of me. It was a battle between me who wanted to apologize to him and me who wanted to slap him again and again and again and lock him up in the bathroom for a few hours in the dark…
February 8th, 2007 at 2:08 pm
We are humans, not machines that we could just push ON and OFF.
Whatever consequences accept the fact that you broke your promise.
Its one way of showing kids we too, teachers lose our patience and do things out of control.
Thats the problem, the system wants us to ALWAYS understand them, how about us?
Take care, you did the right thing. My case is worst, I took a cutter on the boys body, slashed him, no to avail, too good the cutter was inverted. MY anger was up to the limit. He did somthing so nasty in my class.
No report, no suit, no evaluation or whatsoever. They fear whenever they see me coming in the classroom. Thats the best thing.