How I Pulled Up My Socks: The Impact Of A Good Teacher

Photo by Tima Miroshnichenko

Some believe in luck but I believe in hard work. Unlike other children I started my basic education from a public school where the pupils were left at the mercy of fate to learn.

It was while I was in primary three that my mother thought it fit to transfer me to one of the private schools around due to my lack of improvement.

At primary three I couldn't write my name without copying from my note, talk more of knowing how to read.

I had heard so many things about private schools prior to my transfer, so I already had a picture on my mind. When they told me I would be transferred to a private school, curiosity took a hold on me.

Before we went for my entrance examination on Monday, I was excited. I woke up very early, took my bath, and got dressed waiting for my mother for what seemed like an eternity for me.

Finally, I heard "Emreal, let's go." I didn't hesitate, I took my backpack and headed into the compound.

My mother looked gorgeous, she wore one of the native dresses she wears only on special occasions and carried the black handbag my father got for her recently. We greeted each other and headed for the school without wasting much time.

But arriving there, my expectations were pulled to the ground as we walked inside.

The reddish brown, rusty gate creaked as the old security man wearing a black security uniform whose color had faded badly and a pair of brown old boots opened the gate. "Welcome madam. Boy, how are you?" He asked after greeting us.

I didn't respond, I was so dissatisfied with the gate. "I heard private schools used to have fancy gates, why was this one different?" I pondered quietly moving some distance away, allowing my mom to finish interacting with the security.

My eyes wandered from one place to the other observing the environment. I couldn't see any school bus, there was nothing like a playground for the children. "Maybe there's a portion I haven't seen yet," I tried to keep my hopes up.

While I was still lost in my wild thoughts and exploration, my mom started scolding me from a distance, "Emreal, that was uncouth, why didn't you respond to the old man? Don't you know he is old enough to be your grandfather?"

"Sorry Mom," I quickly apologized.

Hmm! "don't try it next time. This way please," she took the lead.

In no time, we were at the door of an office. As soon as we entered, a woman wearing a black skirt and a white button-down shirt, properly tucked in her skirt with black low-heeled shoes, stood up behind her desk. "Welcome," "welcome," she repeated, extending her hand and giving my mom a warm and tight handshake as she offered us a seat with a sweet smile on her face.

"Good morning ma," I bowed, a little before I sat.

"Such a nice boy, how are you?" She asked.

"I am fine ma," I replied. Then my curiosity started pinching again, I started moving my eyes around.

The office isn't bad, at least there was a ceiling fan, two tables directly facing the entrance with a lot of books on them properly arranged one on top of the other. The woman who welcomed us sat on one of them and the second one was vacant.

By the left was a very huge wardrobe, while we were still inside the office, a female teacher came in, opened it, picked a chalk from within, and also dropped her classroom registration there then locked it back.

At one point, all I wanted was to go out and see the classrooms but I had to sit calm because of my mother.

"Hello, my name is Julie, I am the head of this school. Can you read this for me?" The woman who welcomed us handed me a book.

Hm, my heart began to race, and my legs started shaking. I stared at her for a while.

"Take it and read it dear," my mom ordered.

Deep inside I knew I didn't know how to read but I didn't want to embarrass my mom.

I walked hesitantly to the desk and collected the book, I stared at it quietly for a long time, then began to mutter.

"Read aloud Emreal," Mrs Julie suggested.

When the pressure became too much on me, I burst into tears.

"Sorry, sorry, it's okay, you can go back to your seat," Mrs Julie told me.

My mom then dragged me to herself. "Stop crying, it's okay," she said, wiping my tears with her palm.

"Madam Julie, I told you, he doesn't know how to read, even his name he can't spell, please help my child," my mom pleaded.

"It is okay, he will pick up but we will have to repeat him to primary one. From there, I believe he can pick up. Don't be discouraged, we have dealt with many similar cases before," Madam Julie motivated my mother.

I felt so ashamed as I walked out of that office. I thought I was coming here to have some fun but I haven't even started classes and I was embarrassed already.

The following day, I resumed school. I was wearing jeans and a T-shirt with sandals because my uniform wasn't ready yet.

The first day in the classroom was not fun at all. First, I was disappointed knowing our total number in class was ten (10) in my former school, we were like fifty in the classroom. I didn't even know some of my classmates but here, I can close my eyes and detect them accurately.

Another thing I disliked was that our class was divided by a long ceiling from the top to the floor, the other side was another class and the entrance was through my class. That's not all, my class teacher Miss Becky kept asking me questions which I couldn't respond to.

It was as if she was pouring salts on my wounds. The annoying part was that almost everyone in the classroom seemed to understand what she was doing but I was totally off.

Subsequently, things became even worse. I always fail assignments and tests. Everyone in class could read and write but I couldn't. The first term passed, and my academic performance was very poor. I came eight out of ten.

My mother and father were mad at me for the terrible performance, probably because of the high fee but it was not my fault, the truth is I didn't even know what to do to step up.

The whole thing started hurting me, and I was losing hope already.

Second term, Miss Becky noticed I was not free like I used to be, I always felt inferior and doubtful of myself.

One day, during the breakfast hour, while everyone went outside to play and enjoyed their meals, I sat inside quietly resting my head on my desk.

"Emreal," Miss Becky called me. Her desk is in the classroom facing the entrance directly.

When I lifted my head from the desk, she beckoned on me.

I quietly walked her directly, my face looking dismayed.

"What is it dear, why didn't you go out with the others?" She asked.

"Nothing ma," I replied standing at the front of the desk.

She adjusted on her seat leaving some space, "come sit here," she whispered.

"I understand how you feel, but you don't have to feel this way, okay? You are very brilliant Emreal, but before you see that version of yourself, you will have to pull up your socks," she added.

"Pull up my socks, how ma?" I asked aloud.

"Very nice question, by improving your performance. Be intentional about your academics, work more than you are doing. Commit more to your studies than you play," she explained moving her fingertips on the table.

"But Miss Becky, I don't play and I don't even know how to read, how do I study?" I expressed myself putting my head down, tears almost falling from my eyes.

"I will help you, and this is how we will start. Any word you see, bring it to me, and I will pronounce it for you then you keep practicing. Any sentence you see, just try to read, even if you can't, just try," she replied.

"Okay! Thank you ma," I responded.

I came back home feeling motivated. I began working. Each paper I see I try to read, if I can't, I ask someone to help me pronounce the words, then I practice. I read words on the signboards and watched movies just to learn words. Miss Becky also didn't let me rest with new words and assignments on handwriting.

Before the term was over, I could read and write. Everyone was surprised. My classmates started respecting me. That term, I came first in class and it continued, I never took any position that was above third till I graduated. I became a little star in the school. My parents and the school were so proud of me.

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