My mother is my teacher: how to establish communication with a child


“My mother is a teacher” essay

My mother's name is Svetlana Nikolaevna Tupitsyna.
She has been working at school No. 1 as a primary school teacher for 17 years. I believe that my mother is a teacher by vocation. As my grandmother said, my mother always dreamed of becoming a teacher. There were no other professions for her! She began to “teach” as a child, playing only “School”. She sat down her toys: dolls, bears, bunnies and began her lessons. She wrote for them in notebooks and gave them only A’s.

After finishing school, my mother decided to study to become a primary school teacher.

After graduating from the Irbit Pedagogical School with honors, my mother came to work as a primary school teacher at school No. 1, where she herself studied, and now I study too!

The work of a teacher is not an easy profession, but my mother never regretted the chosen path, although there were different things: bewilderment and disappointment,

Teaching is a difficult job, especially, as I've noticed, lately. All day at school, and even at home, mom deals with school problems: notes, projects, preparation of class hours, conversations, competitions, holidays, work programs - you can’t list everything. I see how much work and patience my mother puts into her work, so that little, naughty kids grow into thoughtful young people striving for their goals. Mom prepares for lessons for a long time: she makes presentations, prepares templates, instruction cards, crosswords, puzzles, then looks for educational material on the topic of the lesson, thinks about what she will develop and educate her students in the lesson, and at the same time conducts an educational conversation with me. My mom currently teaches first graders and I see her printing flashcards for different groups of students every day. To interest the kids, mom came up with pictures for writing - silhouettes with letters and their elements. I often hear my mother say: “What will I surprise my kids with tomorrow?”

Mom tries very hard to pass on all her knowledge and energy to the children, trying to give a piece of her warmth to each child. Mom builds relationships with her students on mutual respect. She is distinguished by her extraordinary love for children, hard work, creativity, responsibility for each child and his destiny. She is not indifferent to the results of her work and the success of her students. The students also respond to their mother with love and gratitude. And, probably, it is no coincidence that graduates often visit her at school and even come to visit us at home. Over a cup of tea they talk about their problems and successes. I see how my mother is happy for them, always interested in their fate after they graduate from school.

Despite the fact that the mother teaches the children, she herself is constantly studying and improving her professional level: she graduated from the Nizhny Tagil Pedagogical Institute, attends courses, various seminars, reads a lot of pedagogical literature, tries to keep abreast of all the new developments in teaching and education.

My mother has many certificates and letters of gratitude for her work.

I am proud of my mother, and my mother is proud that she is a Teacher!

Essays on topics:

Source

Close eyes. Listen. You will hear your mother's voice. He lives within you, so familiar and dear. It cannot be confused with any other voice. Even when you become an adult, you will always remember your mother’s voice, mother’s eyes, mother’s hands. I love my mother very much and cannot imagine my life without her. I am grateful to her for giving me life, feeding me with her breasts, and raising me. My mother is a teacher. I think she has a wonderful profession! The most noble of all. She gave 20 years to the school, to the children, and also to their parents. All these years, day after day, she sowed not only the reasonable, in the form of tasks, rules, she was their mother, adviser. I realized a long time ago that when your mother is a teacher, it’s cool. And I began to understand this from the age of five, right from the time when all children go to kindergarten and play with toys in full. But besides this, in your insignificant years, you pronounce the entire alphabet with your toothless mouth, and you know how to count. And that’s why you’re bursting with pride when you come to first grade and already know how to do everything that others are taught there. Also, one of the wonderful signs of a teacher’s mother is that on the first of September you go to school with one bouquet of flowers, and when returning from there you are not even visible because of them. And I really liked it, all my friends asked me to help me. In such a school life, there are, of course, small disadvantages that I am not particularly pleased with. Like the fact that your parents were never called to school. The director just had to go down one floor below. And each of us in childhood approached our parents asking for help with homework. And most parents just quickly solved it for you. For me, with such a request, it was a little different! Textbooks, notebooks, notes, problems were taken out - the explanation began. And since these are not 45-minute lessons, and you had nowhere to run, you had to understand. And there is no option to copy homework. Therefore, I am always and everywhere filled with pride when I say that my mother is a teacher! I love and respect my mother very much. But not only me! She is loved and respected by 25 people a little younger than me! This is all because my mother works at school as a primary school teacher. It’s so great to teach children new and interesting things, to help them explore our wonderful world...

Author: Yulia Shumskaya, 8th grade student of the Municipal State Educational Institution “Secondary School No. 6” of the Izobilnensky Municipal District of the Stavropol Territory

Essay on Russian language “My mother is a teacher”

There are many different professions in the world,

But there is one who

Perhaps everyone is needed more

Profession: teaching children.

Who is a teacher? A Teacher is a Person, a Mentor, a Helper, a Friend.

A teacher at school is a person who leads in the ocean of knowledge, a person with unbending willpower, smart, responsible, restrained, sensitive, strict and fair.

Development content

There are many different professions in the world,

But there is one who

Perhaps everyone is needed more

Profession: teaching children.

Who is a teacher? A Teacher is a Person, a Mentor, a Helper, a Friend.

A teacher at school is a person who leads in the ocean of knowledge, a person with unbending willpower, smart, responsible, restrained, sensitive, strict and fair.

When the teacher comes home, and his profession does not leave him there: look at additional materials, check written work, come up with something new and interesting for tomorrow’s lesson, read additional literature, get acquainted with new products. But what about it? After all, it’s not enough to tell what’s in the textbook? Modern children know very, very much; it can be difficult to surprise them, and even more difficult to interest them.

There is only one teacher in my family – my mother, Valentina Nikolaevna Slepneva. Mom is a teacher of mathematics, physics and chemistry.

Since ancient times, people have been guided by the stars. I remember how in childhood, when I was very little, I loved to ask questions: What is this? What for? And why? And my mother always answered all these questions, and I wondered how she knew everything about everything.

The first lesson, latecomers are still running along the corridor, some are rummaging through their bags, taking out textbooks, we are still chatting. And the teacher stands at the blackboard and waits patiently until everyone is ready. Finally we got ready. I know that she will now smile a little and say, “Good morning.” The lesson has begun, everyone is listening, because it’s interesting to learn: “Why is the kettle making noise? Why is the lamp on?"

The teacher involuntarily rubs her hand - she hurt herself at home yesterday. You ask, how do I know this? Very simply, the person at the board is my mother. I understand her profession like no one else. And you won’t believe how happy I am when she meets her former students. It’s so nice when a person you taught many years ago doesn’t just pass by when you meet, but says hello and asks how Valentina Nikolaevna is doing. And then you realize that you didn’t waste your time and energy in vain to teach him something. At these moments I am just happy for her. Because I understand how nice it is!

My mother tries to keep up with the times, so she is constantly looking for new information when preparing for lessons, so as not to feel uncomfortable among the “advanced” youth. Sometimes resentment speaks in me. And not even because my mother devotes little time to me, but simply because I myself have no time to go to her class during breaks, talk, discuss anything. Sometimes there is a free minute, and I enter her class, and my mother is talking with the students. Guys come to her not about a lesson, but simply to consult and talk. I don't want to interrupt, so I just have to leave. At these moments, I think that we can talk at home, but very often it happens that there is no time left at home. Judge for yourself: I come home from school, have lunch, do my homework, try to do more housework, and the rest of the day I just wait for my mother to come home from work. I look at the time - the arrows show the beginning of seven. And still no mother. Suddenly the phone rings, I greedily grab the phone. And I hear a calm, familiar voice: “Sorry, there’s a lot to do, I’ll have to stay late.” At this moment I understand that it is not of her own free will that she stays late. Finally, mom, having finished all her chores, comes home. It's almost eight o'clock. We quickly cook food together and have dinner.

Even during her school years, my mother dreamed of becoming a teacher. She studied well and actively participated in the life of the school. And on September 1, 1997, after graduating from Kuibyshev Pedagogical College, she came to the village of Belovo, which had become her home, to school, to teach children. Mom works at school for 20 years. All these years she tried to find an approach to every student. I have never heard a mother ever raise her voice to her students.

My mother's whole life is regulated in accordance with the school schedule. She works at our school and we go to school together every morning. The bell rings and the lesson begins for both her and me. Those whose parents are not teachers will probably never understand what it means to be a teacher's son.

Yes, this is constant observation, control of every step and action on the part of the mother-teacher. For this, we, teachers' children, are often pitied by our classmates. But it is also help in difficult times, support in some endeavors, protection. For this, we, teachers' children, are sometimes disliked, considering it unfair that we are given privileges. Some classmates say: “I wouldn’t want my mother to work in the same school as me.” I can answer that this suits me quite well. You can always come and resolve any issue without delaying until the evening. This has its advantages. I try to study well. And not because I don’t want to be punished, but only because I don’t want to let my mother down in front of her colleagues and students.

Since the first grade, my mother has been helping me conscientiously and creatively do my homework, and we rejoice together when we get good grades.

She is our kindest! Mom is always ready to help us and everyone who turns to her for help in everything, despite the fact that she has absolutely no free time.

Source

The essay was written for a city competition and became the winner.

Essay “My mother is a teacher”

Give us better mothers

and we will be the best

More than once a miracle occurs on Earth: a Baby is born. He is a small, defenseless, tiny lump. And next to him is Mom, strong, cheerful, the kindest, most affectionate, the first who meets him on Earth, to whom he owes his life. Now, after birth, they will always go through life together, they will have common sorrows and joys, they will begin to share their most intimate things, and warm each other with their successes in life. They will always be there, always together! Pride in each other will illuminate their entire lives.

"When Mom is a Teacher"…

You can say so - It’s sore, for almost 30 years

My Mom (and my Brother who is the same age) is a Physics Teacher.

I'll make a note right away.

We are talking about Teachers with real many years of experience. Teachers of “Soviet schooling”.

I admit that there are Teachers - Mothers - Others. Not the ones I'm talking about.

May depend on the Subject they teach. Maybe from a successful personal life. Maybe from the Time in which we live. Maybe from the country. Maybe from something else...

But the majority....(and in my case - 99.99% of those I encountered) are “the same”.

************************

How many times in my life have I heard something: “So your Mom is a Teacher? Well, I see, I probably only got straight A’s?” or more specific, sarcastic: “Did you study well? ahh - well, clearly, it’s because Mom is a Teacher.”

Or when they found out that my Mom taught me Physics, he immediately added sarcastically, “I probably only got A’s in Physics!”

All with hints - that Mom gave me good grades, and other Teachers, out of solidarity, did the same

Almost everyone thought and think so. (Except perhaps for my classmates. Who saw that everything was completely different).

WHERE does this erroneous opinion come from for many (and almost all children) - that Mom-Teacher will give you a “5”... or her “friends-colleague teachers” will also make concessions - I really DON’T UNDERSTAND.

Do any of you have real examples, maybe - when the Teacher’s child was in your class - and he was Undeservedly given good grades only for “Mom”???? I'm really interested to know - are there such cases???

Because I have never heard of such things!

I know a lot of “children of Teachers”….and we all have the “same fate” - “the same Mom at home”…..

Which?

Nervous, strict, screaming, prohibitive….

They teach you in everything and always.

They don't know how to switch off. Divide Work-Home. It's in their blood.

Not only that - they believe that their children should be “the best” and an “EXAMPLE” - BUT - they do not consider this as MOMS - out of Love for their child... - but as Teachers....for whom Their Children should be an Indicator - their “WORK”.

And that’s why upbringing is always tough.

No favors. No relief.

School.

The morning began with endless “instructions” - “how to behave”, “Don’t SHAME Mom”, “ALWAYS think that we are the Face of Mom”. So that “God forbid, they don’t say anything about us like “they study poorly, they flounder in class” and so on, etc....

All this was repeated during breaks….in the evening at home, on weekends and so on…

And not in Mom’s soft, pleading voice. And in a harsh voice... with a glaring gaze... and LOUD.

ABOUT! Volume is something!

Only in recent years have I been trying to control how I speak. For all my life my surroundings have stopped me “speak more quietly.”

How can I say “quieter”... when I hear everything loud ALL my life!

Just imagine - in what a loud tone Mom speaks to the entire large audience - Mom speaks in exactly the same way, standing next to us (me and my brother) - above the ear!!!!!

At school…

Everything had to be “crammed” inside and out.

The same Physics, Drawing, Astronomy - which Mom taught me.

If, for example, you were asked today, then you are almost sure that you will not be asked tomorrow... because there are 30 students in the class. They all need to be interviewed and graded. And therefore, there was no need to cram absolutely everything by heart.

In my case, it's the other way around.

Mom made me learn EVERY paragraph....the entire textbook by heart.

Moreover, she calmly gave me “Fs”... and if on some test or for an answer, she curtsied to someone - inflating the grades, or forgiving some mistakes. In my case, this was not the case.

And not because “Mom wants her daughter to grow up to be a smart girl” - but because “no one would think that she is making concessions to her child.”

The same thing happened on other items.

All the teachers constantly repeated “YOU are the Teacher’s Daughter!” You shouldn’t disgrace your Mother” - which means - ...well, it means everything is the same.... if someone can be given a “4”, then they gave me a “3”. Someone was forgiven for something, or they didn’t ask again - then strict demands were made of me.

At home I was constantly given examples of others. “that teacher’s daughter (son) is an excellent student,” “that teacher’s daughter (that one) graduated with a gold medal,” “that teacher’s daughter (that one) got into college”…. We have always been (according to Mom) worse than someone else, because others always had better children!

Despite all that, I studied well. Not an excellent student, but “on the verge.”

She was always “at the center of school life” - a participant in everything - productions, Olympiads, holidays, tourist rallies and other things. I entered the institute myself - in one of the Two budget places.... at a time - when everything was paid.

Mom herself admits - (now) - that I have never had any problems with my studies. There was no need to force me... I did all my homework in silence, well... I had books, sometimes - she took them away at 6 in the morning - because I was reading... I was subscribed to all the libraries in the city... and literally devoured them - stacks of books....

Those. There was no reason as such to be angry with me or upset.

But all the same - everyone’s “children” were always better!

And I always had to live with such a “burden of responsibility.”

When high school started... "characters"... everything became even more complicated...

For example - there was a situation - something happened with the schedule... one extra lesson was added... someone changed something... someone was told something... the result - the whole class decided to ESCAPE - making excuses that “they didn’t know what the lesson was will".

AND I COULD NOT LEAVE!

And it turned out that I was almost a “traitor” - I was standing under the office... when the whole class left. (Thankfully, a couple of conscientious students remained with me... and in general, the class understood me - and everything went smoothly).

I NEVER skipped a single lesson the entire school.

I never slept a single morning.

Because I couldn’t tell Mom “I have to go to the second lesson” or “the teacher is sick”, as some people did at least sometimes.

Mom knew all the school schedules. I knew everything about teachers. And so on.

When “the Soviet era was passing away”, everyone defiantly began to take off their pioneer ties... I was the ALONE wearing one. Because Mom didn’t allow me to take it off!

As soon as I, for example, got a “C” in mathematics - already at recess - Mom was reported about this. She met me in the corridor “and harshly scolded me” - “how I’m disgracing her” - and threatening with all sorts of punishments “learn everything, tell her, no “walking”, and so on, etc.

When high school students were already carrying bags and packages (it was fashionable for some time), I walked around with the yellow satchel I hated...(from 1st grade)...because it’s NOT OKAY.

In general, I can continue ad infinitum...

Maybe now, from the height of “age” - all this may seem like trifles....but it was LIFE...daily...every minute...many years...under heavy oppression..."with a load on the shoulders" that "you are the daughter of a Teacher",...strict boundaries, inflated demands...

****************

At home.

I didn’t have a gentle, kind, understanding Mom.

Only a strict, demanding Teacher.

But at school she is always “the best of the best.” She has more than 30 years of experience. And she was always loved and loved by children and their parents.

In “Soviet times,” there were crowds of students at home who idolized her.

She always took them somewhere...on some kind of hikes, trips...

(By the way, I still don’t believe in “extortion at school”, when Teachers take money... for grades, or force them to bring money, take bribes for exams, etc. I don’t believe it!!! Where do you find such schools and such Teachers? "I've been stuck in this all my life. For them, this is impossible! My mother even refuses many gifts - when graduates are already giving! And so - the whole environment!)

She is always the same for her students - kind, understanding...often even a “friend”...they come to her after lessons even with personal problems, to “share”...

Graduates of different generations still constantly call, write, and express words of love to her.

How many times have I heard from them: “how lucky you are to have such a Mom!”

And I thought as a child: “come to our house, crawl under the table and listen - What is my Mother like?”

As a Teacher, she is one of the “ideals”.

But because of this, “Mom” was sacrificed.

All the nerves that get shaken at work (it’s no joke - you communicate with hundreds of children a day...who have different characters...behavior) - you need to take it all out somewhere.

Where? At home. For children.

Plus our Dad died early.

Plus the meager salaries of teachers... when you had to survive, save and deprive yourself of a lot.

Nerves. Extremely tired in the evening. Lifelong sex worker. Always a headache.

All this may have left an imprint...

I still envy those who talk about their warm relationship with Mom. About Trust. About the fact that Mom is the closest, most understanding person. Mom is a friend. Mom will support. Mom will understand. Sometimes it seems to me that this is all fiction... and it doesn’t happen...

I didn’t have a “tender Mom.” Heart to heart conversations. Warm family evenings. A cozy spiritual atmosphere and relationships.”

Only study. Strictness. Obligations. Tired Mom - who either lies with a sore head... and we walk on tiptoe - maintaining silence. Or she’s always accusing us of something.”

Until now, it’s like I’m guilty of something. I’m always doing something (in her opinion) wrong, wrong, not the way she sees fit. I dress incorrectly (“You are a grown woman, you are a Mom - what is that short skirt!”), I behave incorrectly with my Husband, I raise my children incorrectly, I communicate incorrectly with them…..and so on, etc.

She doesn't give advice. She Reproaches. She teaches. Arrogantly. I don’t “obey” - that means Screams...or “offenses”....with a doomed look of dissatisfaction - he turns around and leaves....leaving me with an eternal feeling of some kind of imaginary guilt.

She's always right. But not me.

**************************************************************************************

Because of all this, I recently suddenly realized that “school” was practically “cut out” from my memory. In pieces...

For me, all of “childhood and adolescence” is connected only with the summer - every three months with my grandmother in the village. Without mom.

All emotions, feelings, memories... - it’s all just summer and the countryside.

The brain simply closes from me everything that was so “sinking”, that was oppression….

I don't have a close relationship with Mom. No matter how I try to “grow” something...

Her conversations with me boil down to a raised tone, screams, lectures...

They - Teachers - cannot do otherwise.

And we, children, really “suffer” from this.

I saw a lot of "teachers' children". Some of them were “downtrodden” children. Some people still remain like this. Many have “problems in their personal lives” - because their mothers did not allow them to go out, focusing only on their studies. Who, by virtue of his character, is “normal” - but also does not have a close relationship with Mom.

With all understanding of the situation. With all due respect to Mom.

But what is missing is warmth... understanding... so that you can talk, complain, share, hear words of support.

For these will always be only accusations, lectures, and what is said is “finish off” - instead of “support”.

And they cannot change.

And nothing can be returned.

I understand her. I feel sorry for her. I'm helping her. But you can’t change anything... you can’t bring back childhood... you can’t grow feelings... you can’t create relationships...

***********************

IMHO - despite the fact that I understand how important and necessary Teachers are.... but if you, a graduate, have a choice - then never go to a pedagogical institute. (and don't force your kids to go there!)

Money is tight. Nerves. Unsuccessful personal life. (not everyone is lucky). And unhappy children.

There are always exceptions... but why risk it...

*****************************************

P.S. who has objections on some points - like “but I’m not like that. but it’s not like that for me” - see the note at the beginning of the post.

Essay "Our second mother."

Our second mother

(essay by primary school teacher Gulnara Balgazinovna Shaysultanova)

The look of children warms my soul, their energy gives me strength.

Children's laughter infects me with joy, children's friendship does not betray me.

How can I repay this precious gift of my destiny?

Only because I gave the children a drop of my soul forever.

Of course, I don’t know the author of these lines. But this poem surprisingly accurately expresses what I feel, what every person feels who has been entrusted with a great and important task - to teach and raise children, and for whom work at school has become their life’s work...

Teacher…. There are so many notes of pride, respect and understanding in this word. There is nothing more beautiful and sweeter in the world than the teaching profession. From the very first time he enters the school door, the teacher takes the place of someone close and dear to him - his mother. He becomes everything for the child: a parent, mentor, role model.

Rating
( 2 ratings, average 5 out of 5 )
Did you like the article? Share with friends:
For any suggestions regarding the site: [email protected]
Для любых предложений по сайту: [email protected]