It was my first day of teaching in a primary school and the students (not more than twelve, two of them are absent in this picture) welcomed me kindly with a celebration and gifts in the small classroom. The room was about 3 metres long and 2 and a half metres wide, without windows, benches or desks. My students were in fifth grade.
I remember that one day I fell asleep while sitting on my chair and was about to fall to the ground headfirst. Another funny memory I have, was when I was trying to tell the story of Esmail being sacrificed by his father Ibrahim. In a state of drowsiness from painkillers that I was taking, I got confused and said that Ibrahim took his son to the doctor! I noticed my mistake after hearing the students’ laughter! Besides this, I was assigned to teach maths in a girls’ middle school.
In the same year, the school arranged a celebration for the occasion of Teacher’s day and I was selected as the best teacher among 45 teachers and assistants. I was very pleased to receive many socks from my students on that day! This success led to protests by my colleagues, and in a meeting one of them admitted that their lessons weren’t interesting for their students. In response to their protests I suggested they could change their way of teaching if they wanted to interest their students.
My students are now dispersed across many parts of the world, but I am happy to see they are busy with their arts and skills, and that they have good memories of my classes.
Some of my students who I remember are:
Hasan Gholamy, Mokhtar Hasanzadeh, Matin Rashad, Gholam Alizadeh who I called Shah Gholam, Hamid Alizadeh, Ahmad Alizadeh, Aref Hasany, Mostafa Mohseny, Saeed Ahmadfaizee, Hosain Khalily (I have forgotten his first name) and the student on the right whose name I have forgotten.