If I wasn’t called into medicine, I would have been a full-time teacher. I love teachers, because of how they change the world one life at a time. They changed mine.
All the people who left significant imprints on my life and guided me onto paths which changed my life forever were teachers. The people who believed in me and gave me the encouragement to dream big dreams were teachers. The people who saw potential within me which I could not envision and who gave me hope to dare to have faith in myself were teachers. They were the source of what I am beginning to realise may be one of the greatest needs in my life, that is, encouragement.
I won’t ever forget Mr. Raymond James Ho. Kitesong was dedicated to him, my General Paper and Literature teacher in junior college. More than teaching me, he inspired me. He taught us not just texts, but knowledge; he taught us not just how to score, but how to live; he taught us not just how to build a good CV, but to dream, and to dream big. I came from a mandarin-speaking background and Chinese school; I have never read the great classics of english literature because my serious self always preferred and still prefers non-fiction; in junior college, I was under a great deal of stress.
But Mr. Ho’s life and personality inspired me so much that my appetite for reading grew overnight exponentially; his comments on my essays were so encouraging I remember I would write additional essays and leave them in his pigeon-hole over the weekend simply because I couldn’t stop writing; in the afternoons we would talk at the umbrella-tables outside the staff room about life and history and the world and God, and he always left me in tears. So when I topped the standard in my general paper, I looked at him in disbelief and knew it was because of him.
He saw me not merely as another student, but saw each and every student in his class as an individual being capable of great things. He saw us each as a special person, as God’s child. He truly loved us.
I believe, to a large extent, that Kitesong happened because of him, too. Just thinking about him makes me cry because I’ve never met a person so knowledgeable and humble, so incredibly loving and firm at the same time.
Perhaps the hardest thing for me about studying in medicine might be not having that precious teacher-student relationship anymore. Unlike before, there is no longer anyone to mentor, understand, nurture and encourage you. Every professor we meet has a thousand other things to do and patients to meet, and we almost never see them much again after the end of each module. We move on to a different specialty department and hospital within weeks. The teacher-student tie is tenuous, at best.
I miss you, Mr Ho. You have made one of the biggest impacts on my life, and on the lives of many, many others too.
I am beginning to realise how much encouragement means to me, how God has changed me from being overly independent to one who realises how much she needs to humble herself because she needs others, too. I am learning, how Words of Affirmation are my love language, and how Amos, Fungus and Michael were all spot-on when they said I had too little confidence in myself.
The first time Amos took me to train in the sea, he could tell I was stressed out by the strong currents. He pointed to a shore far away and asked if I could make it there. I had barely mastered free-style, didn’t have a swimmer’s stamina and with the high tide coming in, didn’t think I could do it. Then he said, “It’s okay if you don’t want to, don’t want you to drown ya. But I think you can. Of course I think you can.” He gave me a thumbs up, his encouragement did wonders inside me, and then we did it four times.
During my flute exam, I remember I didn’t have enough confidence in playing my scales. My teacher had a cold and couldn’t show up to show me support as he originally intended. I faltered, and thought I wouldn’t pass that section. I entered the exam hall hoping just to pass. I never expected, that had I had just a little more faith in my abilites, I would have scored a distinction. I just didn’t expect to do well at all.
Last Sunday, the Methodist Missions Society invited me to give a sharing about Kitesong during their annual fundraising banquet. My mind was in a blank because I felt really out of place, and had it not been for the missionaries’ encouragement, I don’t think I would have known what to say.
I remember 4 years ago, it was Mr. Ho whom I first told about my silly idea about writing a book sometime and not once did he ever flinch. He listened to my ludicrous ideas and rainbow-coloured dreams coated with honey and sunshine with all seriousness. He always affirmed his students. Teachers teach, they encourage and mould and shape us. Mr. Ho did that for me, and more.
Being in medicine is so different. Consultants often put you down, to make you feel bad enough to study harder; people sometimes say disparaging things. It is part and parcel of medical training- we have come to accept it as a fact of life. I understand, that needing encouragement may be my greatest strength as well as weakness. As a writer, words are of great importance to me- and I am often broken or built through them. I cannot deny the immense power encouragement brings me, and how grateful I am for it. It is a weakness which makes me deeply cherish my few friends and ex-teachers who loved and love me by affirming me.
Just a month back, I met Mr. Ho while dining at a cafe. I stopped to chat, and as usual, he listened to me, asked me about my life and Inspired me all over again. He told me things which made me want to cry. He believed and believes in me in ways I cannot imagine anyone would. He truly understands my make-up and genuinely believes I will make a good doctor with a strong moral compass, truly believes I was made for this. He truly believes that I am a strong person. And it makes me want to cry because it reminded me of all the damaging words of disparagement I have been allowing to seep inside of me, all the hurtful things which people have said to me, either in insensitive jest or blatant frankness, and how it does no justice to the faith he, or God has in me.
It reminded me, that everyone needs encouragement to finish the race, and that I too, have a part to play in sowing good seeds into the lives of my children in Sunday school. The hurt which I have experienced reminds me too that we need to be careful with what we say, because God knows the hurt we can inflict on others with words. (Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing – Proverbs 12:18). This reminds me, that in some ways, we are all somebody else’s teacher, too.
I am learning, that encouragement not only initialises me, it moves me till the very end. But I am learning too, that our greatest source of encouragement must come from our greatest Teacher, God Himself. We cannot let what our friends or what people say about us discourage us. And just as how teachers often see potential in their students, God Himself also sees us with His special lens. And if we only have faith enough to believe that He has good things to say about us, kind words to affirm us, and special things in store for us, perhaps we may find that we may achieve far more than we ever imagined possible too.
Happy Teachers’ Day, Mr. Ho.