Writing Contest Dear Teacher: The Teacher's Words Are Deeply Imprinted

Mr. Do Thanh Tuan was our secondary school literature teacher for the 2002-2006 term at Nguyen Thai Binh Secondary School (Xuan Bac Commune, Xuan Loc District, Dong Nai Province). In 2002, when I was in 6th grade, he had just come to work at the school.

Inspire learning

Born in 1981, at that time, Mr. Tuan had just graduated from school, still very young, full of enthusiasm for his profession, for us - the first batch of students. My first impression was that he had a big figure, a kind and gentle face. I especially liked his deep, warm Northern accent, a voice that made my soul soar with the words and poems.

I have a "disease" of... fearing teachers - a common condition of students with poor academic results. On the other hand, because I was unfamiliar with the new school, new friends and new teachers, I was afraid of him as well as other teachers even though I had never been scolded by him.

I still remember the day the teacher returned the test. I was stunned when he called my name as the one who got the maximum score. That day, the teacher read my essay in front of the class for everyone to see. Not believing my ears, I tried to listen to the teacher read until the last sentence before daring to confirm that it was my essay. My nostrils flared at each compliment he gave. All the admiring and jealous eyes in the class focused on me. After that essay, my classmates started to pay attention to me.

Before I could recover from my joy, the teacher reminded me about my handwriting. He frowned at me and smiled, saying: "You have lost half of your good writing. Go home and practice your writing! Today I will deduct half a point for your bad handwriting." Said and done, the teacher took out a red pen and deducted half a point from my writing.

However, that half point was not enough to motivate me to correct my shortcomings. Every time I returned the test, the teacher's comment box always contained the reminder "need to practice writing". I imagined the scene under the light, the teacher's head tilted, his face grimacing with his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to read each word of the little student while grading the test late at night.

Teacher Do Thanh Tuan (far left) on a charity trip with colleagues (Photo provided by the character)

The teacher's love was a great motivation that made me love going to class more and more. I always eagerly looked forward to the literature class to listen to the teacher lecture, explain sentences and have him call my name when returning the test. I can never forget those feelings when thinking about my student life.

In the following two years, although I did not study with Mr. Tuan anymore, thanks to the solid foundation I had gained during the year of studying with him, I was still able to maintain my achievements and was always on the list of excellent students of the literature teachers. That was also the foundation for my current passion for writing.

Handwriting, personality

On the first day of the final year, my whole class burst into tears when Mr. Tuan stepped onto the podium and solemnly introduced himself as our homeroom teacher this year. The students who used to look at him fearfully now clapped loudly and shouted with joy. And, in the comment box of the literature tests that year, I received the teacher's familiar reminder "need to practice writing".

One day, while I was concentrating on writing a lesson, the teacher's whisper beside me startled me, making me stop writing and look up. The teacher gently said: "Your writing is good, but have you thought about pitying my eyes? Practice your writing."

After that day, my teacher's words kept ringing in my head. I started to write more slowly, carefully, and even imitated the beautiful handwriting of my classmates. After a month, I was praised by my teacher in front of the class. My heart was filled with joy. So, I had learned to write "good writing, good handwriting" as my teacher had instructed me years ago.

Although he was in charge of a group of "rebellious" students in the final year, he never complained, scolded or asked us to change during class activities like many other teachers. During that entire school year, I remember the only time he got angry. That was when Chau and Thuong fought.

I saw the teacher walking quickly across the large yard in front of the classroom. His face was red, the anger in his eyes made the whole class sit quietly and obediently. The teacher called the two students up to clarify the situation in front of the whole class. The teacher said that Thuong was the one who started the fight first, so she had to apologize to each student in the class, especially Chau, until the whole class forgave her.

That day, the teacher spent two entire literature periods teaching us a lesson about unity. For ninety minutes, the only sound in the classroom was the teacher's voice, sometimes high, sometimes low, sometimes loud, sometimes soft, patiently explaining to the naughty children what the two words "unity" meant.

Since then, our class has been a group that protects, loves, and helps each other with all our heart. I truly admire my teacher and the way he teaches us. He uses gentleness to guide us from the smallest things.

At the end of that school year, my class’s academic performance was at the top of the school. One of my classmates achieved the title of excellent in the whole grade with many district and provincial awards in various subjects. Standing on the stage looking down, I saw the teacher’s eyes sparkling with pride as he witnessed his 9/2 class students lining up under the flag to receive awards…

Hope you have a steady hand

I will visit Mr. Tuan to see how much black his hair is now, to see how many wrinkles his mischievous students have drawn on his broad forehead - the teacher who, despite having gone through many generations of students, still remembers each one's face and name. I love him and hope he will always be happy and healthy to firmly row each generation of students across the river. I hope his career of educating people will be less difficult and tiring; I hope that the children today will know how to love him, love him as we loved him in the past...

Source: https://nld.com.vn/cuoc-thi-viet-nguoi-thay-kinh-yeu-loi-thay-in-sau-196240915205757051.htm