By Sylvia Kar

How appreciated do you, as a teacher, feel? Do your students appreciate you? Do their parents appreciate you? Does your boss appreciate you? Teaching must be one of the lowliest and underpaid professions of our times. Unlike our ancient forerunners, the teachers of ancient Greek times, we are not at all esteemed as scholars or regarded as vessels of knowledge. We do not rate elevated social standing or the respect which even the slave teacher of a bygone age was privy to.
So then, why do we become teachers? Is it a streak of masochism, is it as many people say a “great job for a woman” or is it because I didn't get into University or couldn't do what I really wanted to do and this was what was left?
As much as I hate to admit it, the last reason holds true in my case. I had always wanted to be a lawyer but when I met a Greek and discovered that I would be living in Greece my desire to practice law quickly flew out the window because my Greek linguistic abilities were nonexistent, so I switched over to English Literature and then on to ESL. In my case, it was the only thing I was qualified to do back in 1977 as a married, educated (but not in the Greek language) woman.
I was literally thrown into a classroom of adult learners, without any tips, warnings or advice. At this point it was sink or swim. There was no other way. My first day was a near disaster when one of my students asked me “why we use do” to make questions and for others we don't use “do”. In other words, why do we say “Who likes John?” vs. “Who does John like?” I really had no idea because as a native speaker I had picked up the language from my natural environment and hadn't learned basic grammar. It just sounded right. This of course was not an answer I could give to a student! Thank God that when the question was put to me, I was writing on the blackboard so that my class of 24, in those days, couldn't see my face and the panic written all over it. But I was fast to think of a way out. Still facing the board, I laughed and remembered the advice of a favorite professor. He had said that in any class there would always be a student who knew the answer. This was as good a time as any to put his advice to the test. It was do or die. So using as steady a voice, as I could muster, I said “That's too easy for me to answer. Who knows the answer to this one?” One brave soul raised a hand and said that we can't use “do” when we don't know the subject. I tossed around a few examples in my mind. It sounded good but I still wasn't 100% sure. So I said that it was good for the time being, but their homework was to look it up in their grammar books for the next lesson. In this way I was able to cover up my ignorance for the moment and that night, I went home to my husband, in tears. It was his job to help me learn grammar. Thanks to an old “Thompson and Martinet” grammar book my husband had, I learned all I needed to know. It wasn't easy that first year and I would like to apologize to all those students of so long ago, though as far as they could tell, I knew my stuff. But, we know better, don't we? What was it that helped to make me a teacher? Along the way I discovered that I loved teaching. Not just liked but loved. It was as if after that first, horrible year, I had found my calling. Granted it had been by accident but it was as if I had been born to do just that- teach. I also discovered that one did not become rich by teaching so that in addition to 30 hours of classes I also had 20 hours of private lessons and still I loved it. Now, if that wasn't masochism, what is? Looking back now, 28 years later, I don't think I would like to change the way things worked out.
Though we may not be very appreciated by others, we know how important the job we do is and we certainly know that when we do it right, there is nothing more rewarding than seeing our students succeed. I do still believe that the majority of the students we work with appreciate what we do though they may not always be quick to show it. So, what I really want to say, from one teacher to another, is that we all deserve a pat on the back once in a while, because teaching is no bed of roses, and there are thousands of us out there trying to work with whatever resources are available to us hoping to pass on a little knowledge to sometimes very unwilling candidates. Teaching is certainly no picnic but I really believe every single one of us does make a difference, so keep up the good work; and this little poem is written as a tribute to all of us.
An Elisabeth Barrot Browning
I do not claim to be,
But a teacher with something to say
That is certainly me.

Ode to the Teacher
How fast these 28 years have flown by
It seems like yesterday when I,
Armed with diplomas- three in a tow,
Faced my first class of students, all aglow.
The knot within my stomach says,
I've yet to finish marking tests.
The clock is quickly approaching four,
And still some papers are without score.

I wonder if our students feel,
That learning has the same appeal,
That we so seriously take
And of ten may not feel we rate.

It isn't easy to contend,
Though all their classes they attend,
The job their teacher has to do,
Just to get them to learn a word or two.

But then you know as well as I,
That not a single day goes by,
When we don't ask ourselves the question, why?

It isn't easy you must know
If we try and take things in tow
To say a teacher I would never more become
Because it is only to the whims of the moment
That I succumb