"Prejudice in the human heart stands as a towering mountain, impervious to the most arduous efforts to move it.”
In the realm of public elementary education, I encountered a homeroom teacher who harbored a touch of partiality. While it's true that everyone is drawn to exemplary students, her attentiveness and leniency extended even further toward those who excelled in their academic pursuits. Throughout my childhood, I grappled with chronic rhinitis, diligently carrying a packet of pocket tissues to school each day, but never once did I haphazardly discard a crumpled paper. It was during a routine session of eye exercises when her resounding desk tap startled me awake, as she commanded me to retrieve a crumpled mass of paper from the aisle between two rows of desks in our classroom.
In a flurry, I instinctively exclaimed, "This isn't mine."
However, her response came forth in a stern and authoritative tone, as she uttered, "It's always you who uses the napkins in our class. If not you, then who else could it be?"
Another incident that left a lasting impact on me occurred during my time in sixth grade. It was a day when the students in the classroom next door had learned the word "vain" during their English lesson. To reinforce their understanding, their teacher organized an activity that involved drawing and association. Unfortunately, due to the similarity between "vain" and my English name, a few boys decided to incorporate me into their sentences.
Upon learning about this incident, my homeroom teacher approached me, her tone sharp as she asked, "Is it because you're vain that they associated it with you?" I found her conclusion to be far-fetched. Despite denying any vanity, I couldn't escape the fear of my homeroom teacher's anger. Nevertheless, somehow the label of "vain" managed to reach my mother's ears.
Reflecting on these experiences, I now recognize that they were tainted by prejudice. Each memory etched in my mind was marred by a predetermined bias. For instance, the assumption that the child carrying tissues must have been responsible for the littering or that students engaging in conversation and using foul language were irredeemably immoral. These educators had relied on stereotypes as swords to pass judgment on me, and I found it difficult to forgive them for this.
Over time, their prejudices accumulated like a towering mountain, and I was never taught how to resist becoming a victim of such biases. I often wondered how I could summon the courage to challenge these unfair judgments. In the end, quietly accepting the labels thrust upon me seemed to be my only viable choice.
As I look back, it becomes clear that if these teachers had shown me a bit more patience and trust, minor incidents such as picking up tissues or engaging in conversation during class wouldn't have escalated into catastrophic events. If only we had the opportunity to communicate on equal terms, rather than me standing while they sat, I wouldn't have been burdened with baseless accusations.
If these teachers taken the time to listen to the inner voices of their students and understand their thoughts and concerns, even it meant investing more time and effort, they could have discerned right from wrong instead of transforming us into scapegoats. This principle should not only apply to educators but should serve as a fundamental standard for every person who seeks righteousness.
Story from Vivianne
Wow. I can really relate.