Monday, October 30, 2006
Loss
Grade 11 students were given their first major essay assignment which was to tell a story from their lives, and then reflect on what they learned in order to give the essay a thesis. The resulting assignments were varied in subject matter and what they learned from the experience. Some of them were very touching; some very funny! Some were both. Here is one example to which I think we can all relate, from Simranjit Kaur:
Loss
It has been two years since the Siri Singh Sahib died and today is the anniversary of his death. We were sitting in the yoga room, watching an old lecture of his and despite my continued efforts to pay attention I found my mind drifting. I think it was his accent that lost me. Then I heard a small noise behind me and I turned around to see my friends eyes welling up with tears. I was shocked. It had never occurred to me that anyone would cry that day. Eventually I managed to put it from my mind but later that night I thought about it some more and I began to think that I was heartless. How could I not cry? Did that mean that I didn’t miss him or that I didn’t care that he was gone? I didn’t feel a sense of loss at all and against my will the events of that day began replaying in my mind.
It was a perfectly normal school day until tea break. Then the staff members called a formation, which was definitely not normal. Still I didn’t suspect a thing when it came to the Siri Singh Sahib. I was thinking that someone had played a prank or something and we were all going to have to stand at attention until who ever did it confessed. Of course we had been warned that the Siri Singh Sahib was very sick, more so then usual and that he could die at any moment but people had been telling me that for years.
When I walked into the academic block I knew that it had to be something other then a simple prank. Everyone around me seemed to have a look of dread on their faces and my confusion became even worse when I saw Ananda crying, Guru Mittar standing next to her, comforting her while trying to hold back her own tears. Of course there were a few people standing around looking just as confused as I felt. Just as I was about to go ask someone who would know what was going on, Amrit Singh called "fall in." It took about 10 minutes for everyone to get there because many of the students were at the art building and didn’t know that there was a formation. By the time the squad leaders finally told him everyone was here I began to get an idea of what was going on. I began dreading the words that I knew were going to come out of his mouth. He stood there in front of us for a moment with a desolate look on his face and then he said "I have something very important to say and it will effect all of you so if you would please not talk I would appreciate your silence." If anyone was talking they were all silent immediately which once again demonstrated to me that something very important was going on.
I felt like the entire world was holding it's breath with the school, not making a sound, hanging on his every word. Then he said it. "The Siri Singh Sahib passed away this morning." For a minute no one reacted, we just stood there and stared at him in shocked silence. It was so heavy that I could almost grab onto it. Then someone dropped their water bottle in shock and the room erupted with noise. Everyone turned to the person next to them and started talking or crying anything to get out the emotion. Even the most manly of the guys were letting their tears fall. I sank to the floor with my back against the wall, tears streaming from my eyes, yet I felt detached from everything that was going on around me. I was sad that he was gone, but somehow it seemed to me that I didn't care as much as everyone else.
Now thinking back on that day I am realising that it was not that I didn’t care but that I wasn’t worried about him. I feel like I had lost a connection with him when he died and that was what scared, me but now I see that I did care about him and we were close, so close that even though he is no longer here physically it doesn't matter, because the bond between a teacher and his student cannot be broken by something so simple as death.
Grade 11 students were given their first major essay assignment which was to tell a story from their lives, and then reflect on what they learned in order to give the essay a thesis. The resulting assignments were varied in subject matter and what they learned from the experience. Some of them were very touching; some very funny! Some were both. Here is one example to which I think we can all relate, from Simranjit Kaur:
Loss
It has been two years since the Siri Singh Sahib died and today is the anniversary of his death. We were sitting in the yoga room, watching an old lecture of his and despite my continued efforts to pay attention I found my mind drifting. I think it was his accent that lost me. Then I heard a small noise behind me and I turned around to see my friends eyes welling up with tears. I was shocked. It had never occurred to me that anyone would cry that day. Eventually I managed to put it from my mind but later that night I thought about it some more and I began to think that I was heartless. How could I not cry? Did that mean that I didn’t miss him or that I didn’t care that he was gone? I didn’t feel a sense of loss at all and against my will the events of that day began replaying in my mind.
It was a perfectly normal school day until tea break. Then the staff members called a formation, which was definitely not normal. Still I didn’t suspect a thing when it came to the Siri Singh Sahib. I was thinking that someone had played a prank or something and we were all going to have to stand at attention until who ever did it confessed. Of course we had been warned that the Siri Singh Sahib was very sick, more so then usual and that he could die at any moment but people had been telling me that for years.
When I walked into the academic block I knew that it had to be something other then a simple prank. Everyone around me seemed to have a look of dread on their faces and my confusion became even worse when I saw Ananda crying, Guru Mittar standing next to her, comforting her while trying to hold back her own tears. Of course there were a few people standing around looking just as confused as I felt. Just as I was about to go ask someone who would know what was going on, Amrit Singh called "fall in." It took about 10 minutes for everyone to get there because many of the students were at the art building and didn’t know that there was a formation. By the time the squad leaders finally told him everyone was here I began to get an idea of what was going on. I began dreading the words that I knew were going to come out of his mouth. He stood there in front of us for a moment with a desolate look on his face and then he said "I have something very important to say and it will effect all of you so if you would please not talk I would appreciate your silence." If anyone was talking they were all silent immediately which once again demonstrated to me that something very important was going on.
I felt like the entire world was holding it's breath with the school, not making a sound, hanging on his every word. Then he said it. "The Siri Singh Sahib passed away this morning." For a minute no one reacted, we just stood there and stared at him in shocked silence. It was so heavy that I could almost grab onto it. Then someone dropped their water bottle in shock and the room erupted with noise. Everyone turned to the person next to them and started talking or crying anything to get out the emotion. Even the most manly of the guys were letting their tears fall. I sank to the floor with my back against the wall, tears streaming from my eyes, yet I felt detached from everything that was going on around me. I was sad that he was gone, but somehow it seemed to me that I didn't care as much as everyone else.
Now thinking back on that day I am realising that it was not that I didn’t care but that I wasn’t worried about him. I feel like I had lost a connection with him when he died and that was what scared, me but now I see that I did care about him and we were close, so close that even though he is no longer here physically it doesn't matter, because the bond between a teacher and his student cannot be broken by something so simple as death.
# posted by MPA Student Work @ 2:23 AM 
