Dear Student of Mine,
It’s me, Ms Stroud – your daggy old teacher from twenty years ago. I wanted to let you know how special it was for me to see you working at the hospital the other day. I was with my daughter, visiting a relative and saw you in the front foyer.
It was something else, Student of Mine, to see you all grown up and working as a physio. You were beautiful with that young couple and their new bub. I watched as you walked them out of your rooms – reassuring them and telling them they’re doing a great job. And then the way you collected your next patient – an elderly man – respectfully greeting him as ‘Mr Boates’ and welcoming his wife, slowing your stride to walk beside them as they tottered along with walking frames and walking sticks. I could tell you were observing his posture and gait, already making your assessments. I felt such pride, Student of Mine.
I can still remember teaching you: a tall, uncertain teenage girl. You’d recently lost your father and I was always aware of your grief, that pain you kept hidden from your peers but shared with me in your written work. You were learning so much that year, Student of Mine. My “teacher-heart” tried to help you navigate the way. And look at you now, luminous with compassion and empathy, aware that your job involves more than manipulating joints and stretching muscles. My teacher-heart felt honoured when you caught my eye, smiled and waved.
Watch: Teachers, translated. Post continues after video.
Top Comments
My wife and I went to the same primary school 6 years apart; we stayed local after we married and our kids went to the same school. When our oldest started, it was strange walking around and seeing things that had changed and things that were the same after almost 30 years. My Year 3 teacher was still teaching a few days a week, and she said to me that she knew he was my son he started - I was flattered to be remembered after all this time. Our youngest just started high school this year, ending our 11 year association with that school in this block of our lives: another reminder that while the days go slow, the years go fast...