Once Upon A Sunday

You must have read at a lot of places now, now that social media is often found flooding with-how we need to cater to the emotional and psychological needs of children. And rightly so, I shall say!

When we were young, I can’t remember anyone talking about the emotional needs of us. No one spoke about it; if you were crying, there was a solvable reason, if not, you better stop crying! It was (not) okay to be sad, was (not) okay to be upset about things, (not) okay to feel anything but happy, or angry (mostly acceptable, if angry with your siblings, over food or a petty remote fight) other than that, there wasn’t much encouragement about feelings. This was quite bad if you ask me now. But here’s the thing, strangely so, if I look in retrospect, I was a happy child.

A happy child because most of my approval came from my parents, or family and sometimes a few close friends, but never from people on Facebook, or snap chat, or Instagram or any other platform that I'm most certainly outdated to know about.

I was content because my parents took out time for me. They both worked through the week, my father went on to his business, and my mom managed the household (I would always call that a full-time job). But Sundays were our days!

My father always made sure we planned our Sundays ahead; we always got excited about them. The day was planned on around a lot of things though; the weather, my father’s pocket, if we were expected at a relative’s place, if there was something new that came to town, if we were good throughout the week, and our health.

But the most that I remember, and miss, now as an adult, are picnics!

The months between October and March were bliss! We would find new gardens and different places where we could picnic, good food, and games, and even more fun! They were a treat! We would usually go with close friends or family, and make a day out of it!

My father, if I could say, is a grown-up version of Dora- the Explorer! He would save magazine articles and would ask around religiously about anywhere that was new! And we would visit that (if within our reach).

However, our travel adventures are for another time.

I am here for you to know "how your child is missing their childhood", and sadly you’re at fault! Let me elaborate. So when was the last time, you sat with your child and coloured a page of a book, if it weren’t for their homework? When was the last Sunday you visited a new place that wasn’t a mall? When was the last time you packed a picnic basket and laid bedcovers on the grass of a play area? When was the last time you had a potluck, which wasn’t just for mere gloating of your new decor or crockery?

We have money for them, to get a laptop, I Pads, and mobiles, and allowances to be on social media because we don’t have time to be in their lives anymore. And then we go on complaining “Oh my daughter is stuck on her phone the entire day!" “Oh my son, won’t open his room, and I only wonder what he does?!” Any update I know of my wad is when they post online. And most parents can’t even do that, because their children won’t accept their requests on social media. Since you kept them out, you should not blame them, if they mean to keep you out now!

It is absolutely crucial to give them time, to make a plan that involves them, to take them to picnics, and luncheons, and have them have memories that they will cherish when they grow up. They will not miss you for having bought them the new toys! Or getting them a new nanny, or luring them with gadgets. They will think of you fondly when they will visit a place and remember that you all came for a picnic there. They will miss you; from the times you spent with them sans gadgets, not the things you could substitute your love with, with money!

So, I hope the next time you leave home with them, you will have tickets to a play, or a pottery class, a simply packed basket of food for your picnic, or anything you all enjoy as a family.

To conclude, I simply urge you, I urge you to spend time with the lovely creatures you created, I urge you to spend precious moments with them, I urge you to spare a while for them, I urge you to stop buying memories, for they can never be bought! I urge you to help your child, have a childhood!

Until then, 

Love, A 

To Turning Thirty

To the hype, the disappointments, to age and acceptance. Cheers!

I recently turned thirty, and I believe I was under some self-put obligation to feel terrible about it. Caught feelings from F.R.I.E.N.D.S.? Perhaps.
 

However, to my acceptance, nothing changed over the strike of the midnight clock. Nothing but my age. I looked the same, felt the same, got hurt the same, and was thankful-just the same! People around me, or should I correctly say, loving people around me managed to make my evening lovelier, without much rubbing of me turning thirty.

On another thought, considering that we are all on social media platforms and know a little too much about each other's lives; their holidays, their future, their jobs, their partners, and plans, and talents and children, and their children's plans and talents and schools and accomplishments, and I could quite comfortably add more words to the list, but 'we know almost everything, that anyone wishes for us to know' that seems more rightly put, I suppose.

Well, the same social media platforms told me that many of my friends and family and colleagues turned 'mighty thirty' along and around my birthday. Some seem to take it better than others, more celebrations, lavish celebrations, grander gifts, and trips around the world-a birthday that anyone would be jealous of, at any given age. I think I have no right to be jealous myself, I was out with people I love, for almost a whole week celebrating my birthday in the hills!

Yes, so moving on with the 'thought', I saw people share their feelings about turning thirty. What should we do, and shouldn't, views on how we need to live our life on our own terms, and care more about ourselves and on, and on, and on... but I seem to have failed at getting any bit wiser (with age).

I know nothing! I have no plans, I am quite sincerely and similarly lost and drained. I am in search though, in search of a will to do things, that I know will make me happier once accomplished. A want to do better on the work front, and academics. An eagerness, to do something for my health, and a need to make sure that I have my nest warm and filled with happiness.

Nonetheless, before it turns all vague, I suppose it is best to come to an end with the 'thought'. I think it's okay! It's okay that you don't have a degree as good as your friend, or a job as good as your classmate from college, or a happy and healthy baby-like a friend from school. It's okay to not have a body like that model friend on your list, it's okay! Because one of these days you are going to hold a crown with your own achievements, and that day, it will not matter if you are thirty or any other number.

As far as I am concerned, I am learning to be thirty, with each day. I hope the number treats me well. Until the next birthday, and a rant as long as this, I shall make myself a promise, to not let go of myself, of the person that made me who I am today, all those years that came before thirty, and all that they taught; I shall respect them, and keep on learning to be a better person, a better thirty years old person.

P.S. Thank you if you took the time to wish me on my birthday. You need to know, it meant a lot! Hugs. 

Hush Hush Baby

I would have liked to say ‘I remember faintly’, but I do in fact remember the event pretty well- somewhere around the summer of my eighth standard, I had some silly (did not seem silly then) issues with a couple of friends. We had recently been introduced to a counselor in the school and were encouraged to ‘seek guidance’ if need be.

I thought of the situation as a ‘need is’ and went up to the lady-our school counselor. Comforting and everything that conversation was, also, she made me realize that my concerns were petty and that I should rather pay attention to my books than, well, everything else!

I wish I could say, “So that’s about it” but it wasn’t. My class teacher, who also was my mathematics teacher called me to her desk a couple of days later, after the class had left for some other subject.
She asked me why I went to the counselor and made me feel really terrible and stupid to have gone to her, to share how I felt, and what disturbed me.

More than a sob story, this event brought an urge in me, a need to have counselors that can be trusted. Children already feel the peer pressure; they already feel humiliated with the idea of visiting a counselor. A child today, (feels) s(he) is smart enough to not seek advice, from anyone, in the family or elders, let alone a counselor. So in that case, the only advice these boys and girls are getting from is their friends – who are equally lost if not more. How does a sinking ship, save another? Leaves us to wonder.

 A generation so affected by social media, likes, and followers, “Yes, I am useless”, ‘I’m a loser” and a generation that doesn’t look up to anyone, not even the wall, I tell you; needs guidance. They need to know they are better off than the snap stories, and Instagram followers. Facebook they say is old school now.

These young adults have no one to share their feelings with(or that’s how they feel), no one to tell them a difference between right and wrong, they aren’t usually talking to their parents and God forbid if you try to sneak some sense into them, you instantly become the relative they hate!
Now how do you expect a child who is filled with varied emotions to pay attention to mathematics, or science? With each passing day, we come to the realization that these children are getting depressed, and the only way that seems like a solution is counseling, for both children, and their parents. It’s not the plain old generation gap now; it’s been decorated with the social media pressure.
Before we seem to leave tracks of the topic, I will urge every parent to talk, every child to talk, and every counselor, to respect the secrecy of every person- young or old, who gathers the courage to come up to you and vent.

So will you be willing to have a talk now?


Until the next time,
Mrs.A

A Friend First

                                  

“That’s my favorite teacher” haven’t we all said that at least once? Well, I have!

For various reasons, some teachers leave a lifelong impression upon their students. A few have superb teaching skills, some explain brilliantly, and certainly earn a reputation for their approachability. I have always had a fondness for teachers who could make their students comfortable, it felt good to attend their lectures, even with difficult subjects like Mathematics (please don’t judge me). 

I have always awed some of my teachers for making us feel more than mere students attending a lecture. It is very important for learners to feel that they are important in a class, not only does that boost their confidence, but it also makes them more attentive, and they participate better. 

I grew up having a few splendid teachers, whose teaching skills imprinted my teaching skills. Being a lecturer myself, teaching adults, I came to a realization that it was all the more important to be a friend first. 

Your class can be bliss for both you and your students if your students feel they can be themselves during the lectures, and around you. Once you give them a confidante, they too give you commendable performance. Believe you me, I have seen a few putting in much more effort in my class than any other, and it is such an encouragement as an educator. 

Sometimes, it is crucial to know the youngsters in your class. As a teacher, you do get to know if a student is an upset-they show, through ways-if only you are willing to notice. If a student knows his/her sentiments are important to you, s(he) will also make an effort to reciprocate by being present-attentive! That is a bonus in itself! Having a class full of students who are willing to listen, learn and absorb-it is truly essential! 

So let’s try and motivate better, let’s try and be teachers who leave a watermark for being much more than mere instructors, let’s try to be friends first!

Until next time,

Mrs. A