Reflection considering teacher-student relation.

Based on a true story
There one was a person who started a new school, like everyone else did, it was the first day of the school year for all the first grade students at the upper secondary school. Got all gathered in the building in the middle of the area, got told our classes, who to follow and then the start of three years had come. The pupil in this matter had no idea what to do, he only knew he was familiar with the place, wanted to make a new impression of himself and somehow remove the old label from past years. Not because anything bad had been committed, just everything based on conclusions made by others and a time of decreased personal health mentally and eventually physically (which just a few had a clue about or knew).

The first year was nice, but the problem is that the ones that actually became friends, ether changed class, quitted or moved away, at the same time a less positive relation between one of the teachers started to grew. After the summer and in the beginning of the second year, the mentor was switched to, surprise surprise, the teacher with the less a positive personal chemistry connection. As time passed, things got worse, not only because of the relation between the teacher and the student, also by other subjects, teachers and a crashing self image. At this point, no one was there really to rely on in person and the days at school seemed to turn out to be living a nightmare, not because of bullying, but of thoughts, indirect degrading from some of the teachers. Not to mention the new mentor who was the worst of them all who practised a way of indirect harassments and prejudice. Halfway through the third term, the student at hand, was on the very line to a mental breakdown. Falling asleep crying became a habit, variations of skin surface related self harm appeared (this to prevent questions about markings/scars) and at some point, the most appropriate way to eventually end it. But that only stayed at speculations at the very rock bottoms a few times. The only thing that actually was the source of life of this person’s life was the music and photography classes.

The harassments and the degrading questions kept raining more or less during the time at the very place where the days were supposed to be spent and eventually, didn’t get treated with more respect than a “slow” kid who was unfortunately in the class of the teacher, a.k.a. the mentor. After months of crying, self repression and a destroyed self esteem it became too much and by Christmas, the student signed a new plan for the other half of the years at the school with confidence in mind. And when they returned after the new years, only one of the classes that had been on the timetables still stood there with an F in the record. A private meeting was held with the mentor who said: “You could always try to redo the F course, and then it’s the final exam in my class. I kind of hope you’ll pass but truth to be told, I don’t think so” along with the facts that the student didn’t deserve the grades that was the key to getting to the school in the first place. This infected the relation between the student and the teacher even more. With a slight boost of confidence, and a motivation to show the worst teacher of the all that he had been wrong all the time he took up the F course and tested it again.

By the end of that semester, four exams were taken, one every week in four weeks. In between those, the final exam in the class where the mentor educated took place, a course that has taken three terms to go through, was about to come down to one final exam. With all this rushing through the head of the student remained focused, not with intention to pass them, but to prove the teacher wrong. Knowing that on that meeting, a guest had been there and took notes and quotes from the conversation who knew people of higher ranks in the system and that they have got rumours of the situation, the student took all five exams. A total amount of five exams, and a time of two whole days, all the exams were passed. Not a single comment from the mentor, the other teacher was really happy. And by the end of the summer, new friends were made, a straight record has been set and the summer holidays started with no class active.

The third year offered a fresh start, not a single class with the mentor, and before the classes really started, he got the grades thrown onto his desk to close that case. After that, with results of the grades and complaints and comments of the behaviour, the mentor started to change. They barely saw each other, he showed much more support, respect and the student really grew in his eyes as a person and the teacher became more humane. Since the start of the third year, it has been a year of making friends, having fun in school and making own decisions. Eventually their roads crossed again, as in sharing hotel room for a week, and having him as the teacher for the examination project. A few of you might have already figured out what this is all about.
Yes, this is me and my story at school.

But what do I want to say with this? You can make a difference if you take stance and look at the possibilities there are at hand. About the hotel room stay you can read about in the Iceland blog series and other stuff from the past can so far be read on the Dove of Stone – Iceland blog Series
We had our last private meeting a few weeks ago, he didn’t complain about anything, he also looked forward to read my project, said that I had grown a lot as a person and that I’ve got good experience in working alone seeing as we have barely talked to each other for the past year. But I’ll bring the knowledge that I can do difference, I will take my friends with me, I will take my experience with me and no matter how much I hated going to school, and how much I hated the decision I made by studying this, I am glad I’ve managed. I would like to thank the people I’ve thanked in the Confessions related to April 18th and my family…Who now have seen me become who I am today, making my own way in life, after two meltdowns, several minor fall backs and constant hate in-head-thoughts. I am who I am, I am proud of it, no matter what I say. Everything made me realize what I want to do in life, and I’ll fight to make that vision come true.

Thank you for being so eager to actually read this, hope I didn’t bore you to tears, please let me know what you think, rate, follow me or tell me if I should read your blog or someone’s you know. I would also like to remind you of the upcoming blog that’s in the WordPress Draft state at the moment but can so far be read at Our Voice Project (Blogspot)
Over and out
Zaracaz

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