ALWAYS THANK YOUR TEACHERS

THANK YOU MEMHR TIBLETZ
Email: testifanos@gmail.com

Memhr* Tibletz was my first grade teacher in Adi Teclezan, Eritrea. Although she may not have known this, she is one of the few people who made a profoundly positive difference in my life. When I returned to Eritrea in the mid-90s, I tried to find her and thank her in person, unfortunately, without success.

My father was a struggling trader when I was in first grade; He was mostly gone trying to find ways to support the family and that is where memhr Tibletz steps in. She noticed that I was often coming to school at the end of the day when her students were just about ready to go home. I am not sure how useful I was with field work at seven but my chores included helping my uncle in the fields. And for him, school time was whenever field work was finished and that is when I would start trekking to class.

My uncle, I know, loved me and did not do this with any bad intent. He was protective of me and I remember him punching the daylights out of a man who rubbed poison ivy on my legs one day. I failed to keep our oxen away from the man's crops and my uncle, I am sure, would not have disagreed that I needed to somehow learn a lesson for my inattention. But the use of poison ivy infuriated him so much he decided to physically deal with the man. I must say, it felt good to see the dude pinned down to the ground making himself useful as a helpless punching bag. But I digress.

Concerned about my lack of regular attendance, memhr Tibletz made a point of finding my father when he was in town (okay, village). My father had a serious talk with his youngest brother and it was decided that I would still help with field work but not at the expense of my schooling. Reflecting back on this now, I believe it was one of the key turning points in my life.

After I became a ‘regular’ student, I remember memhr Tibletz’s gentle words trying to build up my confidence. She used to encourage me by telling me how nicely my handwriting was improving although I needed to stop flipping my letters. I don’t recall consciously internalizing what she meant by this but I somehow must have gotten it because she stopped saying it after a while. Decades later, I was suddenly reminded about the “flipped letters” in my Tigrigna lettering exercises when I saw my U.S.-born children writing their Es like 3s. Hopefully, that is the only genetic defect that was passed on.

I was very lucky to have memhr Tibletz as my first grade teacher. For me, she epitomizes the true meaning of what it is to be a teacher. She cared enough to step out of the classroom to reach out to my father and changed the life of one goofy seven year old who couldn't tell time. I have had great teachers since then. But memhr Tibletz holds that special place and she has always been my favorite teacher.

If there is anyone out there with a similar story, don’t wait like I did to say "thank you". For those still in school and who might not even know what to thank their teachers for, do it anyway. It is highly likely that happy blessings you encounter later on in life can be tied back to the influence of a great teacher who cared.

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* memhr is a revered Tigrigna word which shallowly translates to teacher. When I was a kid, students respectfully addressed their teachers as "memhr" in person. When the teacher was not around, it was "memhr" followed by the teacher's first name – thus memhr Tibletz (I don't remember her second name which is the father's name. Eritrea and Ethiopia don't use family names). When we saw our teachers walking by, even outside school grounds, we students would stop whatever we were doing and stood still until they were out of sight. Sometimes, the teachers wouldn’t even see or know we were standing by to honor their presence.

That reverence for teachers seems to have faded away nowadays as I witnessed it during our family’s six-year stay in Eritrea. I got to be familiar with the conditions of my old high school (Qehas then, Red Sea Secondary now). My children were going to Red Sea and I joined the PTA where we held candid discussions with students and teachers. The teachers would tell us that in spite of the highly appreciated status teachers enjoyed in our days, teaching is not the same anymore. So much so, the teachers would tell us, if a young lady is past “marrying age”, people would express their surprise by saying, “What is the problem, she can’t even find a teacher?” Although there is a joke component to the line, it was told with a sense of loss that strongly suggested reality was not far behind.