When I was young, I always wanted to be a teacher.
Whenever I played “school” with my siblings,
I would insist on being the teacher— standing proudly before my little “class”,
never knowing that one day,
this childhood game would become my life’s path.
Yet strangely enough,
teaching came to me almost by accident.
After completing my studies,
I applied for many different jobs.
One thing, however, was certain in my heart:
I wanted to work with children,
especially those who were at risk,
those who perhaps needed someone
to believe in them a little more.
Throughout my studies,
I volunteered in programmes working with these children.
I wanted to guide them, nurture them,
and help them discover the strength within—
to change their lives for the better,
even if it was one small step at a time.
So I applied for many jobs involving children,
and teaching happened to be one of them.
After my interview with MOE,
someone told me that I would definitely not get the job.
“The interview was too short,” I was told.
And strangely, I was all right with that.
But a week later,
a letter from MOE arrived.
I was accepted.
Perhaps some paths choose us
before we realise they are ours.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
Twenty years have passed
since I first stepped into this journey—
twenty years of lessons, laughter and tears,
twenty years of hopes, challenges and fears.
There have been ups and downs along the way,
difficult moments and exhausting days.
Teaching, after all, is not always a bed of roses;
behind every smile are struggles nobody notices.
There are books to mark and lessons to prepare,
countless little worries that follow us everywhere.
Our work does not always end with the final school bell;
sometimes we carry our students’ stories home as well.
Yet amid the deadlines, the worries and strain,
there are moments that make me choose this journey again.
When a struggling child finally understands,
when confidence replaces trembling hands,
when the quiet child discovers a voice,
when someone learns to make a better choice—
these are the moments that remind me why.
Because teaching is more than helping children
to pass an examination or achieve a grade.
It is about planting seeds
whose flowers we may never get to see.
Some students will remember the lessons we taught.
Others may forget every worksheet,
every correction,
every word written on the board.
But I hope they remember
that someone once believed in them,
guided them when they stumbled,
and saw something in them
that perhaps they could not yet see in themselves.
For teachers do not simply teach minds;
we touch hearts and shape lives.
We give a little light when their world feels grey,
and gently help them find their way.
And perhaps that is the greatest reward of all—
to watch the children we once guided stand tall.
Twenty years later,
I am still learning as much as I teach.
Every child leaves a little lesson with me,
and every class becomes part of my story.
So when I think of that little girl
playing “teacher” with her siblings years ago,
I smile.
She thought she was only playing a game.
Little did she know
that she had already found her calling.
From childhood play to a journey of twenty years,
Through laughter and struggles, triumphs and tears.
I came here hoping young lives I could inspire,
Yet they, in return, kept alive my fire.
For every child who has passed through my door
Has taught me what teaching is truly for.
I may have helped them find their wings to fly,
But they are the reason I still reach for the sky.
