Heart & Soul

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It is often said that once you have been a teacher, you will always be a teacher. Two-and-a-half decades ago, I retired after teaching for 30 years. Upon retirement, I put teaching aside, keeping busy with the arrival of grandchildren, travelling, and enjoying a slower pace of life.

One day, my church made an appeal for volunteer teachers to help at an outreach centre, which provided training for young adults with learning disabilities, regardless of their background or faith. These individuals, aged 18 to 40, were being prepared for employment. With more than enough time on my hands, I decided to volunteer.

The centre’s aim was to equip these young adults with job skills so that they could eventually become financially independent and less of a burden on their parents. Over the past 20 years, I have spent two hours every week teaching at the centre. There is no set curriculum; the students' learning disabilities are varied – some are autistic, some have Down syndrome, and others are simply slow learners. However, the goal remains the same: To help them find employment in supermarkets, fast-food chains, and eateries.

I decided that etiquette would be the first thing I would teach. I gathered the students into groups of five and began instructing them on basic manners – how to greet people, welcome visitors, excuse themselves when coughing, sneezing, or yawning, and respond with "Fine, thank you" when asked how they are. Many of them, surprisingly, spoke English. Over time, they began to apply these manners, much to my delight. I was particularly amused one day when I burped aloud and was quickly told off by one of the students for not saying “Excuse me”.

I also taught them to politely ask when they needed to go to the toilet or get a drink of water. Initially, they would say, "Teacher, toilet" or "Teacher, water." But with gentle reminders, they eventually learned to ask more appropriately. These simple skills are crucial as they prepare to enter the workforce.

The centre has many success stories, with numerous trainees graduating and finding employment. Their employers are pleased with both their manners and work ethic. Beyond etiquette, I also teach practical skills like using cutlery, disposing of rubbish properly, and being kind – not only to caregivers but also to their peers. The camaraderie among the students is heartwarming; they truly look out for one another.

Sometimes, what I teach them one week, they forget the next. But with patience and persistence, they start to recall and apply the lessons. Another essential part of my teaching is encouraging conversation. Many of the students lead sheltered lives and interact mostly with family members, so they are not very sociable when they first arrive. Over time, however, they open up, eager to talk with volunteers or anyone who will listen. They chat about trips to the pasar malam, show off new shoes, or seek sympathy over a small injury. They even complain about trivial issues, grateful for advice in return.

Birthdays are always a special event. Parents bring a cake, and after lunch, everyone sings Happy Birthday. The birthday celebrant beams with pride as photos are taken, capturing their joyful smiles. Watching these once-shy individuals blossom into more confident, sociable adults is a true reward.

I also play memory games with them to sharpen their recall, and I make sure to praise them when they succeed, boosting their self-confidence. As their teacher, I listen to their concerns – whether it's about a power outage at home, a broken TV, or a minor argument with a friend.

One of the more challenging lessons I teach is recognising money. I introduce them to the different values of the Malaysian ringgit, associating each denomination with its colour – blue for RM1, green for RM5, and red for RM10. Since most of them don't handle money regularly, it’s a slow process, but I’m confident that, with time, they will master it.

Each lesson lasts about half an hour. Afterward, the students return to their assigned tasks, such as packing five straws into a bag and sealing it, for which they earn a small wage.

There are no report cards, exams, or certificates at the centre. It’s a free and easy environment, but I feel immense satisfaction when my students pass job interviews and become gainfully employed. When they enter the workforce, they apply the skills they’ve learned, and I often receive glowing feedback from their employers. In the rare instance that a student’s work performance declines, the center intervenes to resolve the issue, often with the help of the volunteer teachers.

In the end, the work of a teacher never truly ends. Volunteering as a teacher has been deeply rewarding. Watching these students embark on their journey toward independence, earning a livelihood, and growing in confidence brings immense joy. When I visit them at their workplaces, dressed in their uniforms and full of pride, I know that I’ve played a small part in helping them achieve their goals.

Yes, once a teacher, always a teacher.