Pacing around the classroom to check on my students' guided essays, my eyes caught J staring into space, with his pen placed on his opened book.
"Have you finished, J? That's really fast!"
He smiled nervously as I inspected his work, immediately finding scores of mistakes in his 2 paragraphs. "If you're talking about one building, it's 'a building', not 'a buildings'. Take out the 's' here, because we only use 's' for plural nouns, remember?"
After correcting a few other similar mistakes, I left him to change his errors, moving on to other students who were raising their hands for my attention. When I made a full round and came back to him, I saw him as I had left him before: staring into space, with his pen left on his opened book.
Disappointed, I asked him why he hadn't changed his mistakes, making it clear that I noticed his lack of effort. He stammered through his excuse, "Sir, I'm waiting to borrow M's liquid paper".
"Okay, borrow it quickly. I'll be back to check on you again in 2 minutes", I said, unconvinced.
*******
I didn't think much about this exchange of words until two days ago, when J walked up to me after class, with his journal in his hand. "Sir, can I give you my journal this week?", he said, barely audibly.
This was what it said:
Teachers hold so much influence, and this power could either be immeasurably destructive or immensely constructive. I can only pray that God breaks my heart for what breaks His.
*he has since been given a correction tape and told not to feel guilty for not having enough money
