The Teacher Who Told Me I Wasn't Good Enough: A G-cleft Story


Have You Ever Been Told You Aren't Good Enough?

Oh yes, one teacher back in grade school told me I might draw a crooked G-cleft when I volunteered to draw one on the board for her teaching demonstration. 

"I never forgot the expression of annoyance on her face when she dismissed my offer."

How did it feel? -being rejected and humiliated in class? Hmmm sigh, it is something I do not want any kid to feel in a learning environment. 

I admit I really did not belong to the best of the best in class. I was a mediocre student who was always seated in row 4 beside the trash can. Maybe that is why my teacher disliked me, add the fact that I really can't sing a tune well and to this day I bet a wittner metronome at musicians friend would prove I'm not meant for music! LOL My teacher made the right decision of rejecting me because it made me STRONG. I want to thank her for inspiring me to do my best.

Yet having been an ugly duckling and someone teased endlessly for my skin color and laughed at for my ignorance made me what I am today.

Someone who believes that happiness requires forgiving everyone and that success is not measured by how much money we earn but by how many people treasure us for the simple things we do for them.

Fast Facts:
A Metronome is an instrument that produces regular metrical ticks. It helps musicians keep a steady tempo as they play.

 

2 comments

  1. one of those heavy duty things that i can now laugh about...A third grade teacher told both my parents that i would never amount to anything in the sciences, since my math was so poor. By 6th grade a was making only "As" in math and if you follow me, had a long career as an investigative analytical chemist with papers published, research which forced people to think differently and other such wonderful stuff. it was not so good for my parents for a good long while though after that conference....

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  2. I could relate, an elementary art teacher before dismissed my work in class, she asked us to turn in our work, I asked a few more minutes since I was finishing up, she came to my side, gave out a bitter and mean laugh, and blurted out loud, " is this what you call art? Hah!"

    I did not cry in front of her, I was a fighter, I looked at her straight in the eye and said, "YES!"

    When I left the classroom I cried of course, and told myself if I will become a teacher, I would not be like her.

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