KNOW A MAN WHO BECAME A TEACHER - A tribute to myself

A brief story of a humble teacher that tells about his journey, dreams, successes and failures, of fortune and finding a future he lives. This is a story of your teacher, a man who have touched your lives in painful, joyful, entertaining and mysterious ways. 

1976- I was born in Khaling valley, East of Trashigang Dzong, some 55 kilometers away and across one mountain pass, Yongphula. My forebears are farming parents who loves cattle and cats, hen and dogs. They are devout Throma Chod practitioners, almost a lay monk and a hermit. 

My father was a Dzongkha then, who had travelled from Trongsa, his birthplace, to Samdrupjongkhar in the far South East as a teacher and then to Khaling. That was in the mid sixties when His Majesty the Third Druk Gyalpo’s vision of modernizing education was at the peak. After few good years of teaching he resigned to live a farmer’s life, and by then he was father of eight already and had bigger responsibility at home. He had carved his new home at Thruepang, a lone majestic house, almost a cottage under the hill away from other villages. This is where I began crawling and walking and becoming a educated boy.

My father was a public elected representative, a Chimi, to Gyelyong Tshogde of the time. As one of the earliest man well versed in Dzongkha, a comparable aristocrat in the Khaling society, he became voice, light and hope of the people. I remember visitors coming to meet father for drafting letters, resolving issues, for borrowing money and seeking work. Those memories tells me he was one of the well known respectable and educated man of the

My father was a epitome of a disciplinarian devout. He still is. His father, my grandfather, who I saw only in a black and white photograph, was said to be Gorap to the second and third King. We know him as meme Gorap and even Kheng Mito Bom. Grandfather was one of the powerful servant to the King, who looked after treasury and armaments of the Trongsa Dzong, and later Drungpa at Wamrong, Trashigang. This must have been in the forties and early sixties, when Bhutan was beginning to find foothold in modern education. He was from Trongsa Poengyena and my grandmother from Trongsa Laushong. Their bloodline is proudly credited to the marriage of Choeje and Dungjue ancestors of the time.

My mother is a daughter of a lay monk. She is the kindest soul and a humblest women, who has mothered eleven children in over thirteen years. She is the gentlest woman, who smiles through her sweat and sorrow. Her father, my  grandfather, meme Dorji Penjor, was known to be Hercules of his generation, while also being a quiet man of prayers. His few words are hard and deep, and his face wears smile and lips giggles to every thing he hears. While our grandmother left us a decade ago, she too was a caricature of my mother, straight like a reed and gentle like an egg. She wasn’t a weak woman, she was strong within, the strength that defied cruelty and selfishness. They are both of a Khochhe lineage of ancestors, that my meme would proudly declare his superiority of blooding and bone.

1986-With slippers and a ‘Jola’ bag slung behind I was said to have been dragged to school by my grand father. I was reluctant and had to be smacked on the back to walk to school. It must have been on the cold morning of February of the year, walking down the narrow trail through the forest and grass. They tell me, I wailed all the way. I have no memory of early school days, but have faint memory from class four, wearing a blue gho and sitting in a hollow classroom with a ceiling as high as ten times my height then. May be I was a scrawny dwarf.

1987-1993-Khaling primary school groomed me into a child who began to find leisure in comics and story books. I was known to be a good student from early on, always in love with reading before the teacher taught the textbooks. I recall taking leadership roles as captain from class five, and then on for most part of school days. I dreamt of becoming Teacher when I was in class four. This inspiration came from my English teacher, miss Sheeba, a Keralite teacher. Miss Sheeba was my inspiration to becoming ardent writer. I began writing poems and short stories after she read a poem to us about a girl who died from cancer. Tragedy struck open my love for writing.

1994-97- My primary education was a tough journey. I walked nearly an hour through the leech infested, often snake crossing and dog scary path to school. I remember reaching home just before dark, sometimes drenched in rain. From class seven, I studied at Jigmi Sherubling Central school. This school is closer to my home and this gave me more time to become a thinker, reader and writer. The isolation into reading deprived me from sports and romance but spiritual instincts married me to prayers and poetry. My dream to become English teacher was coming closer with every book I read.

1998-99-When ICSE board examination results came after 1997 final exam in class X, I secured rare opportunity to pursue into Sherubtse College, the only premier college offering science at the time.  Only some sixty creams from around the country’s few high schools got opportunity to dream of becoming either doctor or engineer. Sherubtse College was everybody’s dream, so was my parent’s and relatives’s. I worked hard to have the door to college but it closed the door to becoming English teacher. Only a fool would not go to Sherubtse, so I couldn’t be one.Apart from grueling to excel in science among the brightest friends, I learnt to dance and sing. My tryst as a orator, particularly in English began from Sherubtse stage on the first day of introduction ceremony. 

2000-2002, I could not deny my dream to become teacher. After class XII, I decided to become teacher, even if it meant science teacher as against my childhood dream to become English teacher. Samtse NIE provided me stage to hone my public speaking skills and deeper flair for writing. As years passed by I became more actively involved in public speaking, literary adventures, writing poems and stories. My college romance was through the pages I read. 

2002-2009 The rustic child becomes TEACHER. Gedu High school become my first formal school to serve as teacher. The school chisels me into becoming one of the versatile teachers, a disciplinarian and adventurer in learning. Over the years, science teaching becomes my master art, and my strength in English was the icing on the cake. Best things in life takes a little more time to arrive, and while some ‘little time’ takes longer, it always brings the best in its own time. 

My first attempt to become vice principal fails, leaving me despondent and doubtful of my own capability. The years of envying my mates at a leadership position hurt me. In the quiet recess of my heart, I knew I can be better. The inspiration from meme Gorap and my father proved that I can lead as much as they did, even without a sword.

I become father of two. I lose a marriage before I had the taste and charm of a married home life. This tragedy propels me into solitary days and years into becoming Chod practitioner like my parents. I began spending time to prayers and recitations, and on holidays and vacations, I travelled to Kalimpong, Durpin Goenpa, to receive teachings and take retreats. My late Guru, Lama Togdhen Chimi Dorji, one of the first disciples of Dudjom Rinpoche, gave me healing, strength and reconnections to a karmic affinity I had since childhood to become a monk. Gedu therefore is a place I began to find path forward and inward.

2010-2013 Following my newfound wife’s transfer to Phuentsholing, I got transferred to Phuentsholing MSS. It is here I began my role as Vice principal. The leadership opportunity was a playground to experience nuances of a educational leader. The Vice Principalship empowers me into creativity; unleashing wisdom, life and spiritual learning into teaching, directing and leading. I earn my Masters in Educational Management from Thailand, Mahidol University while still remaining as teachers at the school. This is the second leap into the stardom of leadership.

2014-2017 After returning from Thailand, I get to take greater role at a bigger school, Phuentsholing High School. This is my power house from where I honed leadership skills, from oratory marksmanship to literary mastery, from human management to philosophical art and discipline. By this time I had served under two women principals and two principals, and few assistant and vice principals, who became my mirror to reflect as a leader. These varying experiences had far reaching impact into making me realize what nuances of leadership I must imbibe and what must be eradicated from my heart and character. 

It was during these times, I get to become trainer for national level trainings. From then on it was an unstoppable opportunity to teach and learn at a more challenging platform, improving my oratory skills in Dzongkha and English. I credit these opportunities to my school and college friends, Tashi Namgay and Phub Dorji.  I believe, my lifetime of reading has gifted me with ease the stage to perform at a greater scale, to touch lives in more fulfilling ways.

May 2017- An interview for principal gives me new home at Dechentsemo Central School. Thinleygang was never an expected dream place, but this is also a best thing that comes for a reason. It was beginning of a leadership experiment I had watched others perform for decades. Many on my way up had said, I have greater capability than to remain a teacher and a vice principal, but I denied I could be. Luck seemed to take time on me, until it did happen.

At Dechentsemo, I publish my first book, Dragon Delights- A Rosary of Poems, and get internationally acclaimed as a Muse from Hyderabad. Writing become a wild fire to pour my wisdom, if a scratch I make can be a wisdom. 

In the few years at Dechentsemo, I have learnt to overcome challenges with grit and grace. Learning is an unending process and leadership is a learning that is beyond the pages of a textbook. The waves are strong but the sails have to be manned, more by compassionate wisdom than autocracy. It is in how we live within our hearts we make a home where ever we serve. It has been 19 years since I have touched lives. It is not in how many years I was a teacher or how many students I taught, it is in how many students and people I gave meaning, home and work. And I am sure I have many. This I owe to my parents and teachers.

TRASHI DELEG  to all MY TEACHERS, and to all teachers across the globe.