HOW MY FATHER TAUGHT ME TO BE AN EDUCATOR

 

HOW MY FATHER TAUGHT ME TO BE AN EDUCATOR

Looking at my life right now, I cannot help but be reminded of my dad. Nnana was what we called him. He was a very quiet man, keeps to himself, didn’t have friends, at least none that we knew of. Right now I remember him telling us stories of how his journey started, at that point my siblings and I were not really interested in those stories seeing how we roll our eyes when he starts giving us one of the stories, we always got one of those anytime we did something wrong-that was one of his punishment strategies.

I really don’t know if it’s me who is missing him or there’s just  a lot of things to learn from the life of my dad as it connects to my job as an educator.

My father was never really predictable, except of course with his stories. We were not sure what he would do next and was never a fan of always using the cane. My mom was the typical Nigerian mom, everything was a weapon to massively destroy your bad behavior-the cane was always available for use to her and that wouldn’t stop her from throwing her purse, her slippers or kitchen utensils at you right there at the scene of your crime.

As a result, we loved both our parents because they were really trying their best to ensure we turn out right, but we revered our dad-not in a bad way. It was a mix of heightened respect and love. We knew we could talk to him, laugh, play and all that when he was around but we knew better than to take advantage of it.

With the memories I have of my dad, I totally understand the principle of how kids learn more from one's actions than words. Apart from my dad’s stories, he didn’t talk a lot, but I cannot start to imagine the things I picked up from him just watching him go to work, take all the night shifts available coming back the next day and making this a routine for thirty-five years without any meaningful breaks. My dad was never absent from work except on days when he could not carry himself due to an ailment, how can I be wondering where I got my workaholic work ethic from? Yet his words were few.

I understand now that if I need a child to be or do something, the first thing is to ask if I am doing the same. I don’t understand how the psychology works but kids fancy copying you than taking instructions from you.

There’s so much to unwrap about this hero of mine, I am grateful I learnt, I am grateful I watched, observed and listened-even to those things he never said.