By P.K. TOH

I RECALL with special fondness the years I spent as a teacher at a particularly challenging school in the 1980s.

It was a secondary school for boys lacking the academic qualifications to enrol in better schools. Most of them came from poor families, broken homes, charity institutions and various orphanages in town.

Poverty and neglect in their everyday lives led to serious disciplinary problems in school. Some had been left to fend for themselves from a very young age, and were streetwise and wayward by the time they reached adolescence.

Navigating the uncouth student culture proved to be extremely daunting for most teachers. Being foul-mouthed by default, the worst of these kids seemed incapable of uttering a complete sentence without piling on some form of vulgarity. It was common practice for a student to let loose with strings of mumbled expletives when picked to answer questions or to read passages in class.

Rather than taking it personally, the more attentive teachers were aware that such was the students' way of venting frustration over their lack of achievement.

Bad language, however, was a minor irritation compared to the rampant fights that plagued our schoolyard. Violence was often instantaneous, and the cause and effect equally unpredictable.

There was the usual bullying and taunting of the weak, gang-related skirmishes, picking fights to gain popularity, or simply taking out stress and misery on one another. No doubt more than a handful struggled with anger issues, but among these students, aggressive behaviour served mainly as a camouflage for emotional turmoil.

They preferred caning to counselling, since accepting corporal punishment made one a hero among peers, whereas a good counsellor could ferret out their vulnerabilities and trigger a tearful breakdown.

With all the troubles that abound, it was inevitable for a teacher to assume extra responsibilities besides teaching. Such frequent asides range from rounding up truants to breaking up fights and checking 40 school bags for stolen items.

Faced with overwhelming disciplinary problems, we were sometimes compelled to send for the erring parties' parents or guardians. To make matters worst, some of these 'responsible' adults were also prone to violent, abusive outbursts in full view of school authorities.

One such episode involved a distraught father who resorted to hitting and punching his child with such fervour that it took two male teachers to restrain him.

For those of us struggling day in day out to nurture this man's son (and others like him), the shame and frustration etched on his face really touched a nerve.

To survive the many challenges in this unforgiving school, a teacher must be prepared to walk that extra mile. Every so often amateur teachers call it quits after just one day, while an easy way out for battle-hardened veterans was to close one eye and adopt a lackadaisical attitude. After all, it is hard to give up a job with a stable source of income.

For those of us who persevered in the compounded role of educator, disciplinarian and counsellor, we were kept on our toes at all times by a class of 40 with very short attention spans, who were fidgety, lethargic and always up to no good.

We had to be endlessly resourceful and innovative in order to motivate and connect with our students, at the same time wishing for 10 pairs of eyes to quash any mischief before it starts. Though the learning curve was steep and their attitudes defiant, most students eventually responded to a tough-love approach. To earn their grudging respect was half the battle won.

On bad days, one felt like a drowning person grasping at straws, or a lone soldier fighting a losing battle.

Fortunately the camaraderie among colleagues provided much solace. The staff room became a refuge where we could gather to share stories of success and defeat, tell light-hearted jokes, and exchange recipes.

We humoured ourselves with the saying, 'if you cannot beat them, join them', and reassured one another that these delinquent students needed dedicated teachers like us more than those in elite schools.

Honestly, we dared not aim for the stars with our charges. But we held on to such modest hopes as to mould them into decent human beings, and to give them a fighting chance to live an honest life. Out of compassion and responsibility, we stayed our course.

Over the years, a decent number of students emerged successful. Some joined the ranks of professionals in education, banking, and sales; others ventured into small businesses, gained ownership of food outlets or became hawkers. Still others managed to earn a decent living working as lorry attendants, security guards or unskilled construction workers.

One even became a medium in a Chinese temple. Sadly but inevitably, there were those who turned to crime. One was hanged for murder and another hanged himself in prison not so long ago.

In the course of my teaching career, I came across a guide book called Teaching without Tears. But surely those who rendered their hearts and souls in service of future generations did shed some tears along the way.

For dedicated teachers, the student-teacher bond is often fraught with heartache and disappointments. But for the ones that persevered until the end, the rewards far outweigh the sacrifices. --The Star/ANN