Earlier this year, I took on the exhilarating challenge of teaching English, with the help of my classmate, to two young boys from a local school here in Chennai. We met every Saturday, and each week we created lesson plans, gathered children’s books to read with them, and found grammar games on the internet for them to play.
Their enthusiasm to learn was motivating for me, and their simple delight at using computers and white boards was very humbling. One of my most fond memories was playing virtual basketball with Dundi whilst trying to teach him verbs and nouns. His excitement at scoring points when he answered correctly was infectious, and I felt so much happiness sitting next to him and cheering him on. By the end, it was with a sad reluctance that I let myself coax him away from the computer at the end of class.
My experience interacting with the joyful pair gave me a deep sense of consideration and understanding of their lives, as I learned to recognise and utilise our differences. For instance, I spent a lesson creating stories with them only to realise that their idea of a superhero was far from the typical Spiderman and Batman that I was accustomed to, but instead it was their favourite actor. I was so proud when Dundi created his story of the fight between Spiderman and his favourite actor, complete with caricatures that he drew on the board.
Through Dundi and Mani I began to identify my own limitations such as my inability to speak their language whilst they struggled to learn mine. I realised that teaching is most importantly a two-way process of understanding and learning. I feel like I took more away from them than they did from me.
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