these loaded words
the differential of y gives us an expression in terms of x that yields the gradient of the tangent at different values of x. does everyone understand this? some nod, some blink, some smile, some frown. perfect! I had done what good teacher's do... inspired thought... even if that thought was... 'i wish the equation would explode and take me with it'.
Amidst the murmur i could hear the taunts... Ahsan picking on Omar, poking fun at him. 'You copy the answers from the back of the book and try to impress the teacher by saying them out loud, you don't even know simple differentiation'. 'Ahsan would you please be quiet and let him remedy that' I interrupted sharply. He smiled smugly at Omar and pretended to do his work, always under the impression that being good at math gave him license to do as he pleases. Almost like clockwork, when the murmur returned, so did his antics. I could see Omar getting flustered, vexed, frustrated. 'Ignore him, Omar. Ahsan! get to work!' I half yelled, giving an ultimatum to the instigator. 'Sir, he copies from the back of the book and thinks he's done wonders.' The entire class chuckled and that was the precise moment in time when the diffident worm turned. Like some neanderthal winding a club to pulverize some unsuspecting animal, Omar lifted the thick Additional Mathematics book well over his head and in a reckless motion brought it crashing down on Ahsan. Before I could even react, the teary assailant left the class room. 'Ahsan i told you twice to lay off and you didn't. What on earth is the matter with you?' i demanded. Ahsan angrily pleaded his case with conviction, showing how words are always met by words, how Omar was at fault. Was he? Was Ahsan right?
Minutes later the vice principal came to my class. 'There is a 16 year old boy crying in my office. Can you explain because I didn't understand a word between the fits and starts'. I told her exactly what had happened.
'Haan, that boy Ahsan could make a pacifist turn to violence. He brings out the worst in people... but what he doesn't realize is that there is a time and a place. Omar has only recently lost his mother...'
I've always held that teachers should be role models, impartial exemplars that should never take sides. Still, we love the smart ones. Why then did I want to verbally abuse Ahsan Rohail? My TA for math. A bright boy. Wasn't he in the right? shouldn't words be met by words?
I felt my heart contract and a stutter crept up my spine and into my larynx. I couldn't speak. There was silence for 5 minutes and then the bell rang. This was the second time in my life, I had genuinely been at a loss for words.
Amidst the murmur i could hear the taunts... Ahsan picking on Omar, poking fun at him. 'You copy the answers from the back of the book and try to impress the teacher by saying them out loud, you don't even know simple differentiation'. 'Ahsan would you please be quiet and let him remedy that' I interrupted sharply. He smiled smugly at Omar and pretended to do his work, always under the impression that being good at math gave him license to do as he pleases. Almost like clockwork, when the murmur returned, so did his antics. I could see Omar getting flustered, vexed, frustrated. 'Ignore him, Omar. Ahsan! get to work!' I half yelled, giving an ultimatum to the instigator. 'Sir, he copies from the back of the book and thinks he's done wonders.' The entire class chuckled and that was the precise moment in time when the diffident worm turned. Like some neanderthal winding a club to pulverize some unsuspecting animal, Omar lifted the thick Additional Mathematics book well over his head and in a reckless motion brought it crashing down on Ahsan. Before I could even react, the teary assailant left the class room. 'Ahsan i told you twice to lay off and you didn't. What on earth is the matter with you?' i demanded. Ahsan angrily pleaded his case with conviction, showing how words are always met by words, how Omar was at fault. Was he? Was Ahsan right?
Minutes later the vice principal came to my class. 'There is a 16 year old boy crying in my office. Can you explain because I didn't understand a word between the fits and starts'. I told her exactly what had happened.
'Haan, that boy Ahsan could make a pacifist turn to violence. He brings out the worst in people... but what he doesn't realize is that there is a time and a place. Omar has only recently lost his mother...'
I've always held that teachers should be role models, impartial exemplars that should never take sides. Still, we love the smart ones. Why then did I want to verbally abuse Ahsan Rohail? My TA for math. A bright boy. Wasn't he in the right? shouldn't words be met by words?
I felt my heart contract and a stutter crept up my spine and into my larynx. I couldn't speak. There was silence for 5 minutes and then the bell rang. This was the second time in my life, I had genuinely been at a loss for words.
posted by Azam at 11:23 PM
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