Heather Robinson

I am a child of a teacher. My late father was an excellent teacher, who made many personal sacrifices that benefited thousands of children. Today, on the eve of the opening of the new school year I write a letter to him.

Dear 'Teacher',

How are you? I hope everything is fine especially since you have been joined by your wife and first child. You might be wondering why I have chosen to write to you at this time, since I have never done so before. Well, here are the reasons.

Firstly, I want to thank you publicly for the legacy that you left for all your children. You were a headmaster when you died at the age of 49, and each day I wonder how you accomplished so much in your short years. You had no additional income to complement your very small income as a headmaster, and therefore did not have much to leave for us when you died. But what you did leave for all of us is the goodwill that your years of teaching created.

There is hardly a week that passes when we do not meet someone whom you taught. This always brings back good memories of how much you cared about the children whom you taught.

Passed common entrance

I remember how when in 1965 I passed the Common Entrance from your school, Little London Primary, how you told my mother that you would not ask for a transfer.

You suggested to your wife that I should do the 'overage' technical school examination, since you had sent so many children to technical schools and had no real knowledge of the type of education they were getting. My mother who was not in support of this novel idea of yours was happy when after a visit to Kingston you informed us that you had been successful in getting me a transfer.

Secondly, I never heard you complain about the salary you received. I only heard you complain when children were not living up to your expectations. I remember how you would visit the home of children and speak to their parents, and how you patrolled the streets of Little London looking for recalcitrant children.

Yours was a life dedicated to the education of the children of West-moreland, and many others who came from other parishes. You were harder on us who were your own children. And even when you took a break from teaching and was elected a Member of the House of Represen-tatives in 1959, you still took the time to teach us at home.

Corrected home work

I remember how you spent hours correcting home work, and preparing work exercises for your Common Entrance and Third Jamaica Local students. You would carefully write the 100 problems on the blackboard and give it to us as part of your daily preparation for the exams.

I can still see you now, walking down the hill from the teachers' cottage, as you wet your strap in the morning dew on the grass.

'Teacher', we are days away from the start of the school year and - at the time of writing - our teachers and government have not concluded the salary negotiations. I wish you were here to talk to both groups of negotiators. But, since you are not, can you please speak to God and ask Him to provide divine intervention. We both know that no good teacher can ever be paid what they are really worth, and we hope that both groups will put our children first, as you did.

In closing, my hope is that yours and the example of other good teachers will be the guiding light of our teachers as they work to produce a more literate Jamaica.

Your daughter, Heather.

Heather Robinson is a life underwriter and former Member of Parliament.