Sydney Morning Herald by Julia Baird
The moment you realise, as a kid, that your teacher is also a human being is a startling one. Like the time my high school teacher sobbed through an entire lesson, holding a handkerchief to her nose as we bent over our books stealing glances, hushed and wondering. Like the science teacher who endearingly sliced off the top of her finger trying to scoop condensed milk out of a tin. And the English teacher who read a poem of mine in Year 8 in which I described a classroom tutor writing on a chalkboard with a hand "weary, like her spirit." Next to those lines were two thick ticks, and an "EXCELLENT!" in capitals.
At which point I realised my teacher probably was a bit tired....