Teaching, without teaching!
I was in 7th grade in Maths class. We were learning quadratic equations in Algebra.
As was the convention, our maths teacher came in and we turned the pages of our maths book to the chapter on quadratic equations. We had started this topic a couple of classes ago, so we were now firmly headed towards the exercises or problems at the back of the chapter. There were probably 10 or 12 exercises to be completed and each of them had about 30 problems or equations to solve.
The initial exercises were straightforward equations but later it got into word problems where we had to apply the theory. Our teacher explained a few fundamentals on quadratic equations and answered some questions by solving alternative problems on the blackboard. The squeaking sound of the white chalk on the black board created a rhythm as our teacher wrote on the board. That sound stopped when he turned around and asked in a polite voice, “Understood? We go through this step and simplify the variables and here is how we complete the problem.”
We were now ready to get on with the exercises, and our teacher said, “There is no hurry, first focus on the small steps. Once you are comfortable with that, you will be able to get these all done easily.”
We started with Exercise 10.5 as that is where we had stopped last time. Along with a friend of mine, I raced through 10.5 and was waiting, only to notice my friend started with Exercise 10.6. With a mixed sense of shock, disbelief and obedience, I gave him a look that clearly communicated – “Are you mad? Why are you racing ahead of the class?”. My friend just shrugged and continued on.
Being the diligent good student that I was, I waited till our maths teacher passed by my desk, as was his customary style, to ensure he could be around if a student needed helped. I looked up to him with a quizzical look, and whispered as he bent to listen to me, “Sir, can I go ahead and solve 10.6, I have finished 10.5 a while back.”
He just winked and gave me an encouraging half nod. Having gotten the “official sanction”, I dived right into 10.6, and soon found myself heading into 10.7 as well. In no time, I was two exercises ahead of the class! As I was reaching the end of 10.7, our maths teacher came by my desk again, this time out of curious interest as to where I had reached. Seeing I was on 10.7, he smiled.
I was stuck on an equation which was proving to be a bit tricky, and he whispered a clue in my ear and went away. I was unstuck again, and beamed back at him happily. He gave me a “thumbs up” sign and asked me to keep going, as he got back to the front of the class to assess where the rest of the students were.
That is my memory of my maths teacher – Rocque D’Silva! He taught, without teaching!
TAILPIECE:
Having now been exposed to the world of coaching and facilitation, I can now understand the simple things that Rocque sir did which made attending his maths class such a fun and enriching experience:
✅ Back in those days, in a convent school, he created a psychologically safe environment, way back then when this terminology wasn’t prevalent!
✅ There was no mistake or failure in his language. He would just say, “Ah, so you already reached there, from here, you do this……………” I never heard him say “tell me where you are stuck”!
✅ His demeanour was that of a friend who is encouraging you to go on this fantastic journey in maths with him!
✅ He was 6 feet tall, but you could see his smile from a long distance away!
✅ Instead of raising his voice, he spoke softly, in a tone that was lower than the students. What a lovely way to make us pay attention to him!
My sense is – if he had been asked to teach any other subject or had to offer advice to someone facing some other troubles in life or their relationships, he might have most likely been as deft at helping us out with that, as he did with algebra!