27/05/2025
THE DAY I LOST MY COOL WHILE TEACHING
Now, I know I’ve been preaching about controlling emotions in the classroom.
Emotional intelligence, calm communication, patience with your learners, I know, I know. I’ve said it all.
But let me confess something. I, too, have had my own “moment.”
Let me tell you a story.
It happened in 2018. A sunny, peaceful morning. I left my house without eating. Why?
I can't remember. Maybe I overslept. Maybe I was broke. Maybe I just believed in the lie that “I’ll eat during break.”
One thing I know for sure though, my stomach was already setting up a protest while I was in class.
Now, this particular day, the corper who was supposed to take the other half of the class had gone for her clearance. And guess what?
I had to combine the two classes. Over 50 children.
Fif...ffty little voices, with fifty different energies. And just one me.
I felt like crying.
Before I could mark homework, classwork, try to manage noise levels that kept rising like fuel prices, and all my body was silently waving a white flag.
But I pressed on. Teachers are built for battle, right?
At this point, you should shout E for energy for me.
Then it was time for reading. Usually, I’d call them out one by one, they’d point at the board and read aloud while I stood beside them, guiding.
That day, I was standing but my knees were arguing with me. I could feel the groaning in my belly like a faulty generator.
I kept sipping water like it was glucose, whispering to my stomach, “Please just hold on till break time. Just thirty more minutes. You can do this.”
Then came the moment. One boy, I’ll never forget stood in front of the class with his Innocent face.
I pointed at the word on the board. He looked at it while I looked at him with hopes in my eyes.
He opened his mouth slightly, one finger on his cheek, giving that “I'm thinking” pose.
"C...."
I nodded to encourage him. You know that teacher nod? That “Yes, yes, you can do it!” nod?
I nodded like an overworked lizard. My neck was dancing zanku.
Still nothing.
In my mind I was praying that this boy should get it because my emotions were building.
So, I kept nodding. He kept staring.
Then finally, boom! He opened his mouth and said something so off, so unrelated to the word on the board, I nearly lost balance.
It was like asking a child to read “cat” and he confidently says “elephant.”
Like how? What concerns "C" and "E".
I froze.
I told myself that I have entered.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout at him. I wanted to ask him, “Where did that even come from???”
What is this? Imagine your energy, time, efforts, hope yet nothing. I have put my best shot that I know with the last strain of energy.
I wanted to cry and flog him.
But instead, I smiled. That kind of forced smile that even your ancestors know is fake.
I told him calmly, “Try again.” self-control.
He did.
Same result.
By this time, my hunger had taken the wheel.
My emotions started knocking. Anger was knocking. Frustration was knocking.
Even tears were hiding somewhere behind the door. I could feel it, if I said one more word, I would explode.
So you know what I did?
I quietly went to sit down. Took another sip of water. Closed my eyes. And had a quick, silent meeting with myself.
“Monica, if you react now, you might say or do something you’ll regret. This is not about the child. This is your body begging for food.”
And in that quiet moment, I also realized one mistake I was doing, I was correcting him too quickly.
Each time he made a sound mistake, I jumped in to fix it. I didn’t give him space to think. To struggle. To try. Maybe because of hunger, I wanted him to be fast.
So I changed my approach.
I called him back. This time, we tried a different way. I slowed down. Gave him time. Used a fun, low-pressure tone.
And just like that, he got it.
His whole face lit up like Christmas morning. That proud smile, that sparkled in his eyes, it made my empty stomach forget its hunger for a second.
Lesson of the day:
That day taught me two things:
1. Never teach on an empty stomach. Hunger is not your friend.
2. Sometimes, the best teaching happens when you slow down and let the child own the process.
3.And most importantly, don’t correct too quickly.
Sometimes, the best thing you can do is pause, breathe, and let the child find their way, with your guidance, not your frustration.
That’s the day I lost my cool but found a better way.
📸Internet