CELEBRATING THE TEACHER WHO MADE ME

I have never had a favourite teacher until I encountered Mrs Owusu. Maybe that is because, to me, all teachers who crossed paths with me were the same. The concept of a favourite teacher was alien to me. I felt in the sea of teachers it is next to impossible to decide on a favourite. How does one even decide who a favourite teacher is? I answered this question for myself when I found my favourite teacher.

I remember my first encounter with my favourite teacher like it was yesterday. It was the first day of school and the first lesson on the time- table was history. In walked a tinny woman with a shaved head like a schoolgirl, I initially thought she was a new student transferred from another school. She was so small in stature that she could pass for a student. She stood by the door and said nothing for about twenty minutes.  We all carried on with our conversations and did not pay any mind to her.

She walked to the front of the class, cleared her throat and introduced herself as our history teacher.  We were shocked to the bone after she introduced herself as the history teacher who would be teaching us for the new term. She walked to the board and started to scribble on the board lesson for the day.

I noticed that unlike the other teachers she wasn’t talking down at us, she would occasionally ask us our opinion on a historical fact during the lesson. She made the lesson conversational that I forgot I was in a classroom. She encouraged us to read a chapter before coming to class each week. Almost every member of my class prepared for that particular class without being forced. This because not sourcing for additional reading materials on the internet meant that you could not contribute to the class discussions.

There are few teachers like her, who possess such passion for teaching. Her teaching methods were exciting and stimulating, throughout my academic years, I have never encountered anyone like her. I loved the fact that her knowledge of history went beyond bare facts and her analyses were so deep. She was so concerned for our well-being that she would call my parents to ask about me when I miss her class.