Measuring impact
The last two weeks provided a degree of validation that is difficult to quantify. Despite the looming deadline this weekend for the payment of annual bar fees (to maintain an inactive status of which the why remains beyond comprehension), there has been a barrage of reminders that the once sabbatical-turned-unexpected-vocation may have been the greatest gift so far.
But how does one measure “greatest”?
Recent conversations with A Level students have reiterated the need to establish criteria before a judgment can be reached. Yet, having criteria does no good without at least one key factor. How to choose one from hundreds? Well, what if we chose the first set of youngest — the ones who were in Year 7 in 2019?
Evaluating criteria against this one factor yields a definitional conclusion of “greatest.”
Criteria 1: the number of affected?
To hear from students in their final days has been eye opening. Which memories have transcended time? How could that one lesson or action that one time years ago have made such an impression? What you remember is astonishing and somewhat perplexing. How to document in words here what was expressed in stories and tears? Role model, favorite, best, safe place, you told me.
How can this be real life?
Criteria 2: the one who supposedly affected?
What bears mentioning here is that in the midst of such memories, there is a stark truth that perhaps should not be admitted: you were the youngest group of students I had ever taught up to that point in my first full time job at a secondary school. Needless to say, I had no idea what I was doing. This should have been obvious to you but perhaps you were too nice to notice. Being told that four of you had to be seated on opposite corners of the classroom to avoid physical confrontation was not only unexpected but also unbelievably life-changing. Learn to manage behavior or perish, you showed me.
How had this become my life?
Criteria 3: better off?
Without a doubt, you shaped my life and career. With your never-ending kindness, good-hearted humor (even when it crossed boundaries of acceptable in our society dominated by the thought police), and insatiable appetite to do right by others, there is no doubt that your presence went beyond the classroom walls. You keep rising to the occasion embodying not only the spirit but also the resilience of the underdog. You keep showing up. You keep trying. You keep honing those skills while never compromising on what is truly important. We should all be so lucky to have priorities like yours. Naysayers be damned, you taught me.
How could life be any better?
To the first set of the youngest I’ve ever taught, thank you for the memories and lessons. Instead of measuring who taught who more, let’s perhaps agree that we taught each other. If I inspired you, you motivated me. If I taught you skills, you taught me how to manage a classroom. If I praised you and gave you confidence, you remembered my lessons.
Measuring criteria may work for essays. But let’s agree that when it comes to leaving a mark, Batch of 2026, the impact is mutual.
