The power of teaching

“Do you remember me, Ma’am?” I’ve been in the teaching field for nearly 15 years now.

“Do you remember me, Ma’am?”
I’ve been in the teaching field for nearly 15 years now. Every year, I meet hundreds of new faces, learn countless names, and understand the unique stories behind each child. We know not just their marks, but their fears, quirks, and dreams. Some we watch bloom slowly. Some leave a deep mark. Some become unforgettable—for a time.
But as the years go by and more students walk through our lives, some memories fade.
Recently, while I was in Kodaikanal with friends, a young woman came running towards us. She greeted me with such warmth, her face glowing with familiarity and affection.
She said, “Ma’am, do you remember me?”
And I froze.
Her name, her batch, even her face—all blank at that moment. I smiled, responded politely, but inside I was scrambling to remember. She left, a little disappointed. It was only after my friends reminded me of anecdotes and classroom memories that I realised: she was once one of my pet students—charming, bright, unforgettable… or so I thought.
That moment stayed with me.

It made me reflect—not with guilt, but with grace. Because the truth is, while names and faces may fade, what doesn’t fade is the connection we built when it mattered. That student remembered me because, at some point, I saw her, encouraged her, stood by her. And maybe that was enough.
To all my fellow teachers—have you experienced this too? That sting of not remembering a student who remembered you so dearly?
To all students who greet their old teachers with love—thank you. Even if we don’t recall every detail, know that you were (and are) cherished.
Here’s to the quiet power of teaching.
To fleeting memories.
And lifelong impact.
– Ms. Indu C