My Hero

My Hero

In 1981, my hero was Mr K, my school teacher.

On the first day of the school year, I was sitting with my Mum in the school playground. We were waiting for the first school bell to ring and as we waited, Mr K walked past us and as he walked past us he said to me: “You’re in my class, Sarah.”

I was a shy, weird kid, and it was rare for any adult who was not my Mum or Dad to speak to me unless they had no other option, so he took me completely by surprise by saying anything.

All he said was “You’re in my class, Sarah.”

But, the message I felt in my nervous little heart was: “You matter, I see you, You belong in my class.”

I was instantly his devoted fan.

Mr K’s class was for kids aged between 5 to 7 years old. He often exaggerated things and our class size was no exception. He told us that there were 42  kids in the class and we all believed him. Years later I looked at our class photo and counted the kids and there were actually only 32 of us.

He told us amazing unpolitically correct stories that he made up out of his head. They could be about children who threatened mean teachers with violence, and monsters living in the trees behind the school who came out at night.

We painted a lot, we often did our handwriting practice with crayons, we did puzzles and listened to music and danced.

If we were getting restless, he’d say “Run to the end of the field and back!” Then the whole class would take off out of the classroom, and we’d run all the way to the end of the field and back, and come back inside puffing and happy and ready to do whatever amazing thing that Mr K had for us to do next.

He’d take us for walks, either around the school or into town. He once took us all to his house and his wife was there and she gave each of us a cupcake on a plate.

He told us that Prince Charles and Lady Diana were coming to visit us. He taught the boys to bow and the girls to crusty for the royal visitors. We were visited by a boy and girl from one of the big kids’ classes and they did a great job of pretending to be Prince Charles  and Lady Diana.

That whole year I was never criticised once by Mr K. He never said I could do better. He never said I did not try hard enough.

He noticed the things I was good at, and never mentioned the things I was not doing so well at.

One day Mr K told me that I had finished reading all the books with blue covers, it was time for me to start reading the (slightly harder) books with yellow covers. I told Mr K that didn’t want to. I think I was nervous. He took me very seriously. The first thing he did was have another look in the bookroom and find one last book with a blue cover for me to read. The next day he said to me: “Well, now you really have finished the blue books, so you are really ready for the yellow ones.” I totally believed him, and took my first yellow book home to read that day.

One of my big fears was going swimming. I was afaid of the water and of the pool. He never pressured me to go swimming  if I didn’t want to, and I hardly entered the school pool that year.

He noticed too, that when my Mum had to go to hospital for a couple of days, that I became very withdrawn. I am still astonished by this. How could he notice that out of 32 kids, the quietest one had gone even more quiet? But he did notice, and made sure my parents were informed, and told the class that everyone had to be extra nice to me.

There was gossip about Mr K: gossip that he was lazy, that he was a bad teacher, that students in his class didn’t achieve as well as they could. I once overheard the comment: “They’ve got him teaching  those little kids so the older kids can have the good teachers.”

 I don’t know if the amount of reading, spelling and maths I did learn that year in Mr K’s class was as much as I was supposed to learn. 

I don’t care if it was or not.

All I know is that I loved every day in Mr K’s class. I know that each night before I went to sleep I would imagine that I was back at school because I loved school so much.

Why did I love school so much that year?

Because I learnt the most important lesson I have ever learnt on my first day of school:

“YOU MATTER”

Thanks Mr K. You’re my hero.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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