*shrugs*After six days of being a teacher in a foreign place, away from the luxury of home, I finall

*shrugs*

After six days of being a teacher in a foreign place, away from the luxury of home, I finally broke down and cried in fear “Can I actually do this teaching thing?”

In a classroom. After I dismissed the students.

I knew that the moment would happen. I had been waiting for this moment. I had wondered since Pre-Service Program what would have triggered it. Homesick? Illiteracy? Pessimism?

It never crossed my mind the middle finger would be my meltdown.

I stood stupefied seeing my 13-year old student waving that finger to someone walking in the corridor.

Then I stormed my way to him yelling “Class dismissed. Go to PJ class, everyone.” About three minutes early. The least important concern at the time.

Very calmly I asked him if I truly did see what I saw. And he confirmed it. My heart wretched. I asked why. He shrugged.

He shrugged.

I asked if he knew what it means.

He shrugged.

He SHRUGGED.

I didn’t know how to explain to him that it is a bad gesture. When I applied for TFM, I promised myself to always explain situations to my students. Don’t simply say, “Don’t do it again, it’s wrong.”

I grew up with people who patiently explain concepts to me. From my parents to my sisters to my younger brother. The whys are hardly replied with “because that’s just how things are.”

Now that it is my turn to emulate them, to show the students how life works, I realized how unprepared I am. The right intentions and strong determination are not enough if I myself have limited knowledge.

After blatant racism, possible case of dyslexia and this, I finally realized how much I need to grow. As a teacher and as a person.

Because the boy doesn’t know the extend of the gesture. He knew it’s a rude thing. But not his origin and how the world perceives it.