COMMITMENT TO A CRAFT

The event was only just weeks away and I was very excited. I’d paid my registration fee and I decided I’d take day off from family, friends, and other social commitments. The day of the event was on a Saturday so I didn’t have to worry about school. I was eager to polish my English Grammar. As an elementary school teacher in the Philippines, I was not as concerned about my spoken English as about my written English. I needed to get a good handle on that angle because I wanted to be a better teacher in the future for my kids.

Early that Saturday, I arrived at the venue of the seminar. Nearly two hundred teachers, principals, and administrators of different schools were already there. We all registered, had our snacks, and excitedly settled down in the large, covered, but non-air conditioned hall. There was a humongous buzz and chatter in the room. Nevertheless, from where I was, close to the stage, I didn’t mind the noise.

A few minutes later, an elderly lady who appeared to be the organizer, came on stage and made an announcement. “I’m sorry to tell you but there has been a slight change in the program. We were supposed to have a seminar on English Grammar Skills but the speaker called in sick last night and in her stead, we’ve brought in another speaker, who will talk to us about Communicative Leadership. I hope that’ll be okay?” she said.

A mumbled grumble and a few raised voices went across the room, but courtesy and kindness being our culture, most smiled and settled down to what may come. The speaker, who was introduced and then stepped on stage, was a young-looking man with salt-pepper hair. He smiled and apologized, saying he was sorry that he couldn’t do English Grammar Skills but that he’d share some really good and useful things about Communication and Leadership Skills.

I was initially disappointed, but the guy was funny and open, so I settled into my chair and took my paper and pen out. A few minutes into the seminar, I had begun – like many others – to lean forward, laugh, nod, smile and respond to the speaker and his interactive exercises and stories about leadership. This is good, I said to myself. As I looked around, I felt others were happy and participative in their seats too.

But one of the last tables, there were a bunch of elderly people from our profession who were out of sync with the whole class. They were talking more loudly than normal. A couple of them picked up and chatted loudly on their mobile phones, even as most of the teachers around naturally were behaving, I thought. I looked back at the speaker and I realized that he too was conscious of this little group. He made several attempts to involve them in the general discussions and activities. He even walked up close to them tried to make them smile, but it seemed like this little group had made up their mind to disrupt the proceedings. I realized that the whole group in that open-air hall had sensed the deliberate disruption. It was, I must tell you, a little embarrassing, us being teachers and all.

Speaker: Hi! Good morning people! Is everything okay here?

Group Spokesperson: Yes. All okay.

Speaker: I did notice that many of you have been busy on your own here.

Group Spokesperson: Yep, that’s true.

Speaker: Are the proceedings of the day okay for you? Is there anything I can do to help?

Group Spokesperson: Well, now that you bring it up, we are not happy.

Speaker: Not happy with me? My subject?

Group Spokesperson: Not really. We are upset at the organizer who promised us one thing but is delivering us another.

Speaker: Oh, that one! Correct me if I am wrong but wasn’t that cleared already this morning?

Group Spokesperson: Yes, but we are still upset and unhappy for being shortchanged.

Speaker: I am sorry and I do understand but this is out of my hands. May I just call back the organizer to take up this with you?

Saying this, he hailed the organizer to their table and gently moved back a few steps. He then leaned against a wall and stood there. Meanwhile, the conversations at the last table got a bit rough and a lot of bickering began to take place back and forth. I stayed and listened for a while and so did to others. The bickering continued and scores of people from the rest of the crowd began to step out for lunch, for a drink or a cigarette.

Still a bit concerned, I stepped out, had a quick lunch, and headed right back into the room. A day that I’d looked forward to for so many days was turning out to be ugly. I was mad and ashamed of being a teacher all the same time. When I got back to the room the scene at the disruptive table hadn’t changed. I looked at the wall where the speaker had slid away and was aghast to see that he hadn’t moved an inch from his position. He was standing exactly the way he was standing before I’d stepped out for lunch. His hands were pressed behind him against the wall and he was leaning on his palms, with the sole of his left foot on the wall. He didn’t look upset, hungry or tired. It just seemed as if he was hoping the battle at the table would go away.

I sat down and began to chat with people at my table. Every now and then, we glanced in the direction of the disruptive group and the speaker. Nothing changed. There was nothing we could do. We were all young and we were pretty junior in this profession and industry. Another hour and a half went by. The scene across at the OK Corral was still the same. Some participants began to leave. Others walked up to the doors and windows and lit up cigarettes. I felt sad. We are a kind and courteous people and this scenario just didn’t fit into our culture and values.

After nearly 3 hours of standing against the wall, I saw the speaker move and walk up to the table. At first he just went and stood there quietly and erect. There seemed to be an expression of mercy and disappointment in his eyes at the same. The smokers at the doors and windows moved to within earshot of the table. Others outside also stole back into the room. Those sitting at the nearby tables sat alert but pretended not to be paying attention. And then he spoke to members of the disruptive table.

Speaker: Is it okay if I ask you all a few questions?

Group Spokesperson: Okay.

Speaker: Is it correct that you planned to spend this day here in this hall today?

Group Spokesperson: Aha, yep!

Speaker: Is it correct that you set aside all your other commitments to be here all day?

Group Spokesperson: Yes.

Speaker: Is it also true that you registered and made some financial investments for this event some weeks ago?

Group Spokesperson: Yes, of course!

Speaker: Would you say that all morning before the break, all the others and maybe you too picked up a few good pointers about Communication and Leadership?

Group Spokesperson: Yes, but that’s not what we came here for.

Speaker: That is correct and I respect that. Would I be right in saying that if all of you chose not to stay and to leave this hall this morning, you would not get your time, money and, more than all that, your hopes and expectations refunded. Correct?

Group Spokesperson: Hmm, we see your point.

Speaker: Then, it that case, may I request you please to let me put my microphone back on and create some value in learning for all of us in the hours that still remain useful in the day? If what I say and do doesn’t create value then I, not the organizer, will refund your money. Is that okay?

This conversation was heard by most of those present in that room. The organizer had slowly slipped away somewhere and those at that table grunted their acceptance. The speaker returned to the front of the room and continued working through the remaining hours. The room slowly came back to life but the dark clouds of incident earlier hang in the hall like death.

The speaker continued to work professionally and quietly. He did put across a lot of value, not so much by the words he was putting together but by his behavior, and most of all, by how he’d handled the situation.

As the day came to an end, I slowly and steadily became proud of the fact that I’d chosen teaching as my profession. My family and friends used to tell me how thankless a profession it can be but that day, I felt in my bones. I thought to myself,”This is my life. This profession is my life’s purpose.”

At around 5 PM, I heard the speaker say these words, “To a leader it matters less how others treat and regard him. More important than that is how he responds to and regards others.” With that, he smiled, thanked everyone, and brought the seminar to an end.

People began to get up and slowly move towards the exit. Some applauded gently, while others stole a glance at the speaker and whispered their thank you. The people at that last table sat firm and glared at the rest of the crowd as they walked out. My heart was pounding hard and felt like popping out of my chest. I had to do something!

I gathered my stuff from the table, straightened my shoulders, and walked tall and straight towards the speaker. I stood in front of him in plain view of everyone. When he looked up with moist eyes at me, I said to him in a voice loud enough for all to hear. “I have been touched and inspired by everything you have said and done here today. I have never witnessed so much patience, dedication, and commitment to a craft. Because of what I have learned, I too will remain committed to my craft and always remain a teacher.” He looked at me with tender, smiling eyes with maybe just a silver of doubt. I gently added, “In this Story of today, I have picked up a little Truth about life and living. Maraming salamat po!”

By: Raju Mandhyan