'Not a Thankless Job Exactly': What My Parents' Job as Teachers Taught Me

On Teachers' Day, a daughter pays tribute to her father who has been teaching at a government school for 44 years.

While my mother teaches Bengali in a private school in the small Himalayan town of Kurseong in Darjeeling district, my father is a high-school chemistry teacher in a government-run school in the same town.

(Photo: The Quint)

Last week, when I saw the video of a teacher purportedly instructing a classroom full of students to slap their Muslim classmate in a school in Uttar Pradesh, I, like many others, was horrified. But the backlash to the entire incident felt more personal, since I come from a family of teachers and educators.

A few days after the incident, my cousin casually remarked about how teachers these days are losing their moral compass. "I don't really blame them, it is a thankless profession, and when they act out, it tends to get ugly," she remarked.

But I don’t really agree with her, since I grew up with a very different image of what a teacher is supposed to be. It is of someone who has an impact even beyond the classroom. Both my parents, I think, have largely been able to achieve that and are well-respected for their sincerity and professionalism.

While my mother teaches Bengali in a private school in the small Himalayan town of Kurseong in Darjeeling district, my father is a high-school chemistry teacher in a government-run school in the same town.

My father has been teaching there since 1979. Having dedicated over 44 years of his life to the vocation, he says he has found it fulfilling. The same goes for my mother. She got into the profession in 1982 straight out of college.

Teaching was seen as a respectable profession for women then. Initially, she was apprehensive about whether she would like it or not. She, however, ended up loving it and has dedicated more than 40 years to it now.

'Have the Greatest Job To Shape Curious Minds'

In fact, one of the schools she was working at, when my brother and I were younger, agreed to her request to teach just one class in a day as she wanted to dedicate more time to us. She was still paid the full salary. "It is because the job offered me so much flexibility, that's why I loved it," she says.

Meanwhile, my father sometimes jokes about how "he has the greatest power, and that is to shape curious minds."

"It is a job even governments across the world would be jealous of," he would say.

Of course, like any other profession, he has had his ups and downs. "But the ups outweigh the lows," he always tells me.

My father (sporting a white shirt in the bottommost row) with his colleagues in 2010.

(Photo: Madhusree Goswami/The Quint)

My father often tells us of a specific instance that changed his attitude and perception towards his vocation – something that left a lasting impact on him. He had joined his school originally on a temporary position. Even though the medium of instruction was and primarily is English and Nepali, due to children from underprivileged backgrounds attending the school, the Nepali language was and is more widely used.

My father being felicitated by his students on Teacher's Day.

(Photo: Madhusree Goswami/ The Quint)

Even though my father was fluent in Nepali in terms of speaking and understanding it, he had never learned to read it. This was creating an impediment, as most of the textbooks were in Nepali. A student's father understood my father's plight and volunteered to teach my father to read Nepali.

My father mastered the language within six months and gained a permanent position in the school, thanks to that student's father. My father says that what really touched him was how selflessly he volunteered to teach him the language.

'Education Is the Greatest Equaliser'

That government schools get paltry funding is no secret. But my father has seen what this really translates into. "It means not having a replacement for broken test tubes as soon as one breaks or not having access to the latest access to technology in the computer lab, small things like that," he often exclaims.

But my father, like many other good teachers and educators, is a firm believer in the perseverance of the human spirit, that education is a great equaliser, that everyone should have access to it, and that it should at no cost be monetised. He does not believe in mere lip service.

There are two specific instances I can recall where he stood up for these ideals.

Once, a parent of a child in his school complained about how another teacher in his school had stopped imparting private lessons to the child because other parents complained that they were not willing to send their children to a space where a person from a lower-caste background was being taught by the said teacher.

This angered my father who then reprimanded his colleague for his bias.

What really angered him was the fact that his colleague thought that since the child was from a lower caste, he had no right to quality education. "Everyone has the right to quality education," he says of the incident.

How He Gave up on the Greatest 'Role' of His Career

The second instance is of him voluntarily giving up on a position of power because he did not want political leaders dictating the way educational institutes are run.

In 2008, my father was all set to become the principal (or officially the teacher-in-charge) of his school. He was a favourite among his colleagues for the position. However, he turned it down because he feared political interference would ruin the environment in his school.

To give a bit of a background, 2008 was a period of great turbulence in the hills of Darjeeling and Kalimpong with the separate statehood movement of Gorkhaland gaining ground. Schools and colleges run by the government were often used as protest and meeting sites.

Being the principal meant that he would have the awkward task of giving permission to these rallies, protests being conducted on the school's premises. While he was not against the whole movement, what worried him was that he would have to frequently allow his school to host these meetings. He was worried that it would eat into an already short academic term.

The hills of Darjeeling have a shorter academic term (March-November) and he was scared that frequent disruptions due to the meetings would hamper it further.

An Impact Beyond the Classroom

My father's former students have often told me about how he has had an impact on their lives even beyond the classroom. One of his students once told me that apart from being a 'chemistry wizard', my father has the ability to bring out the best in people.

He spoke about how my father would 'reward' his students by taking them out on treks, picnics, etc. It is, perhaps, because of this that he is well-respected in the community.

My father (sporting a blue jacket) with his colleagues during a picnic in 2009.

(Photo: Madhusree Goswami/The Quint)

It also explains the fact that despite officially retiring in 2012, the school's board earnestly requested him to continue teaching till they could find a 'replacement' for him.

It is year 11 – and they are yet to find that replacement. He also has help set up a science department at another all-girls government-run school and teaches there as well. At 69, he is more active than me.

My father's vocation has earned him as well as our family immense respect. It has helped me and my brother earn small privileges like skipping long queues at the bank or post office or being offered a free ride on taxis and public transport due to being "Goswami Sir's daughter/son."

Teaching is definitely not a thankless profession. And as my father says, "this profession has given me the best gift of life and that is meeting your mother. Had I not been a teacher in this school, I would have never met your mother, fallen in love with her, married her, and have had you and your brother."