Showing appreciation is a powerful and basic act of human decency. When it comes from the heart instead of the head, both the person showing appreciation and the recipient are renewed, validated, and enriched.

There is an important time of appreciation that is celebrated in the first week of May: Teacher Appreciation Week. Although not celebrated as widely, every day should be Teacher Appreciation Day around the world.

When the All-Star staff at Great Oaks Elementary School takes turns being in the Central Texas rain, sun and cold directing traffic to keep all of our children safe and then going inside to educate them, you know we are all blessed beyond words. Mr. Scott Morgan, you are wonderful! Cedar Valley Middle and McNeil High School staff, thank you for helping to educate our children with such passion and dedication.

“The appreciation of teachers is a very important way for us to recognize their efforts. We must always remember that without them there will be no professionals, no architects, lawyers, doctors, engineers, priests, nuns and all other professions,” according to a blogger. called Scopion magnet.

Teaching is a labor of love. Very few enter for money. Teachers in general are dedicated to education out of love for students and out of a sense of hope for the next generation. Only in the teaching profession do we have dedicated workers whose work means so much and yet is so poorly rewarded by society.

Teachers are heroes, if you ask me. Not all teachers are extraordinary, but most of them are worth more than their weight in gold. If teachers in the Western world work for a dollar today, their counterparts who taught many of us in Africa in the 1960s, 1970s, and perhaps 1980s, worked for pennies.

The more I think about the working conditions of our teachers in Nigeria in the days when I was a child, the more I appreciate what those teachers did for me and my peers. Even the teachers we thought were mean to us (because they disciplined us when we deserved it), we have now come to understand that they were good teachers who meant well and wanted us to be successful adults.

They were underpaid, and even their small paychecks were sometimes held up for months. They had no credit cards or the means to obtain loans. They had no safety net to get by until the end of the month. They did not have a modern bathroom near their dilapidated staff room. They did not have a kitchenette or microwave or refrigerator. They had no parking because most of them couldn’t afford a car. They had no health insurance to speak of because the government didn’t care.

And even after these excellent educators have retired, they must jump through Sisyphus hoops to receive their retirement checks. It’s dehumanizing. Frankly, they worked tirelessly for an ungrateful government and society that benefited from their productive years, only to be hunted down by wolves in their old age. They worked hard to advance humanity.

So let me now thank Okom Mazi, Okom Bernard Elendu, Messrs. Abaegbu, Ota, Onuoha, Ibe, Mbagwu, Abosi, “Aghara Aghara”, Enwere, Principal Ogbonnaya, Mrs. Igbokwe (Dan Fodio Primary School Road, Aba, 1973/1974) and others. Wherever you are today, know that I appreciate everything you did for me. And I mean that from the bottom of my heart. The older I get, the more I appreciate you. And in the unfortunate event that you have passed away, I want your surviving spouse and children to know that you made a world of difference in my life and the lives of my fellow students.

They taught us all so well and equipped us with knowledge (albeit in substandard classrooms and schools with no electricity or running water and fancy laboratories and libraries) that we can still compete with others of various backgrounds on the world stage. We are doing it not because we are better than anyone, but because you taught us to believe that we are as good as our peers anywhere in the world. We are doing it for our families and in honor of those teachers who were so kind to give us everything. Regardless of our current situation, we are better because of our former teachers.

To the teachers of the bygone era who read this article, rejoice knowing that you are appreciated, honored and held in their grateful hearts by your students. For those entering and continuing in the teaching profession, dare to make a lasting impression in the lives of your students so that they, too, will remember you the way you remember your own teachers; completely, with gratitude and with respect.

Teachers shape our destiny. How nice it would be if each of us made an effort to find some of our former teachers and thank them for the difference they have made in our lives. It would be wonderful to carry tokens of gratitude with us. It may surprise us that the teacher values ​​recognition more than any material gift. You, too, might come out of this gracious embrace feeling refreshed and fulfilled, having had the chance to show appreciation to the teacher who gave you so much without expecting anything in return. Go ahead and try it. These old masters are rarely visited by their former students who have left or are overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle of life to turn around and say a few words of thanks to these heroes.

Whether you are a stay-at-home mom or dad, the president or a nurse or a doctor or an engineer, a taxi driver or a college professor, a merchant or a business tycoon, take the time to tell your former teachers who are grateful for their service to you and to society.

This is a “small” work in progress for me. The last two times I was in Nigeria, I surprised one of my high school teachers with a visit. On the first visit, he did not recognize me after more than 20 years of separation. I went to his town and asked around until they directed me to his house. He welcomed me and the people who accompanied me with that unmistakably African luxurious hospitality, pun intended. You see, he taught history in those days; he taught us about Mansa Kan Kan Musa. He taught about winning “people with splendid hospitality and generous generosity.” Most history students from that time will remember that quote.

He offered us powder (nzu), kola nuts and drinks. She still didn’t know who we were. We greeted his wife without saying who we were. His wife knew a lot of us in the bedroom because she was a surrogate mother to all of us in those days. My teacher, once energetic and strong, is now a bit older and his eyes were beginning to darken, but he still retained his arrogance and intellectual disposition. He looked good. I wish to be so lucky.

When the suspense reached its climax and I found the courage to speak in the presence of a giant, a true hero to me and many, I asked him if he knew who I was. He said no, since his wife was nearby watching and listening. Before telling him my name and the names of the people who accompanied me to his town, I thanked him for being my teacher and mentor. I told him how he helped me grow at Methodist College, Uzuakoli. I thanked him for helping save my life by driving me to Uzuakoli General Hospital when I fell ill during the WAEC exam in 1979. I told him that I loved and appreciated everything he did for me, including when he gave me a memorable spanking. time my behavior deserved such a correction. Of course, by this time I had already lost control: tears were running down my cheeks, my eyes were red and my lips were trembling. I said thank you thank you thank you sir! Trying in vain to regain my composure, I joked that he wasn’t there with my gang to get revenge for the whipping. And they all laughed.

I asked him again if he already remembered who I am, and he said no again. This time, the tears turned into laughter. He was starting to feel embarrassed. I had come to see my teacher, who I had been bragging about to my friends, and he didn’t recognize me. And those same friends were watching it all unfold. So I understood. You see, he helped so many students during his career, and he did it without taking notes and then beating his chest. He was just being a teacher, a heroic one at that.

His wife knew who I was when I told her the story of how her husband, my teacher, took me to the hospital. Finally, I told him my name and introduced him to my friends.

My teacher asked me what I was doing. He asked me about my family and where he lived. I told him that he was married with children and where we lived. I told him that we were in a hurry to get home before dark and that I would come back to see him every chance I got. And I kept my word the next time I was in Nigeria.

He said that before I go I must break the bread. When I insisted that we have to leave, he took us to his neighbors and introduced me as his “student who came all the way from America” ​​to see him, with an emphasis on “my student.” He was so proud that one of his students remembered him. He didn’t give a token, he was just happy that I was there to see him. I wish you could have seen his face and his demeanor when we left his village. The visit meant a lot to him, but it means even more to me to this day.

I came away from this experience humbled and full of gratitude. As happy as I was, his student came to see him, I got the most out of the whole exchange; so much so that I plan to make this a regular pilgrimage whenever I’m in Nigeria.

My experience made me think about the happiness that we can all generate through this simple but mutually beneficial act. It should be done regularly instead of rarity. You do not have to bring much or anything with you to the visit. Your former teacher will be delighted to know that you are okay and that you remembered. Just find one or two of his now-retired former teachers and surprise them with a thank-you visit. Like any joyful act, you will benefit more than your former teacher.

Perhaps today’s students will observe it during their visit or find out about it and emulate it and remember their teachers after they graduate. Yes, teachers get paid to teach, but they go above and beyond the call of duty to raise successful, productive people like you and me. They do it because they want something better for future generations.

Finally, our teachers should be honored, treasured, and appreciated for as long as they (and we) are alive. Appreciation is best expressed in life, not in praise.