A year ago I wrote my first post. It was called “Small Gestures” and centered around the idea that what most people reflect on from their pasts are not the big events but instead are the small gestures that make us human.
Here’s another story about small gestures. I teach a free English class for six students in the small Mexican town where I live. Depending on the season, the class is held in either a student’s patio on my street or a classroom several blocks away. Each Monday and Wednesday afternoon I have an easy stroll to class.
Jeffry, a retired teacher who lives about half an hour away, asked if he could teach a third class. We both thought the more exposure to English the better, so I offered it to my class for a vote. They were keen for another class and, in April, Jeffry started teaching a third class on Tuesday afternoons.
I don’t see Jeffry often; so it was good to catch up with him during a party he had. At some point, we started talking about our class. He and I don’t confer about what each other is teaching because we have different styles, which we both agree is actually better for keeping the students’ interest level up.
Our little discussion soon turned to student attendance. It’s pretty good, especially for Mexico where such things are looser. We also talked about the diverse backgrounds of our students, teens to middle-aged, housekeeper to dentist, and which students always come to class.
Then Jeffry told me, “You know what really makes teaching this class rewarding for me? After every class Mati comes to me and says she knows I drive over from the neighboring town just to teach the class and she really appreciates my effort. That’s what makes it worthwhile to me.”
It’s usually the small human gestures that make memories.