of touch and letting go

there is a certain power that the human touch has. it pass on a certain affection, a certain comforting feeling, a certain safe feeling that no words can pin point. I rememberd Prof Paulin Straughen always holding our forearm when she's showing her appreciation. Somehow that makes it more personal.

I have always envied my female collegues who can give a assuring holding of the hand to the students who break down. Such human touch is much more powerful and comforting then all the words out there combined. Or when they share their joy or pain when they receive their results with a simple hug. It is the most basic and powerful way to say 'I'm here. Don't worry." I had the chance to witness how it almost instantly calms the student, or an invisble bond was formed almost immediately, or how the joy, being shared, multiplied to all those around them with just a hug.

Yet, that is something a male teacher can't do. Do that to a female student, you're at risk of being considered as a pervert or molester. Do that to a male student, you're at risk of being considered as a homosexual, or a paedophile. Somehow, male aren't suppose to give the human touch, usually males who do so are perverts/molester/*insert your choice of term*. After all, I don't blame anyone for thinking this way. Look at all the news about pervertic teachers in Singapore who gave the human touch at all the inappropriate places - they are all male teachers. Or those who have been accused of touching the wrong places, even though there wasn't a single physical contact - males too.

Hence, I've always distance myself physically from my students. Whenever G jokingly put his arm over my shoulder, he will be shurgged away immediately and given the cold stare, no matter how close he is to me. Even when I took a photo with my closest kids last year -all of them have their arms over each other shoulders, except me.

The other day, I was looking through the multiply pictures of an ex-collegue of mine. Almost all the photos he took with the students close to him invovle them having their arms over each other shoulder. It struck me.

Last Monday, one of my kids told me about the passage they read during CME, a story from "chicken soup for the soul", about how a father who has skin diseases overcame his inhibitations and gave his son a hug. A number of them commented how sad it was, to have difficulty giving the simplest and strongest form of affection - the human touch. It struck me once more.

What have these kids of mine done wrong, to not deserve any physical contact with me, to not receive a little gesture of my assurance?

I'm not talking about more intimate ones like hugs. I mean, a simple pat on the shouluder, or a simple pat on the head - it is powerful enough. Like how D smiled when I gave him a assuring pat on his head after our counselling session, much to his protest that I've messed up his hair. Like how Mr Choo will always pat my shoulder when I visit him - my kids deserve to have those too.

Yesterday, I bumped into a few of them at the school porch, while they are waiting for each other. I've decided to put away my inhibitations and gave them a pat on their shoulder as I greeted them. That smile, is something I've never seen before. That feeling, when they return a pat on my shoulder, is something I've never felt before. Somehow, we all felt more comfortable with each other. Comfortable enough for them to start poking my tummy, like how my friends always do.

But i'm not complaining. Somehow, I feel closer to them, and I feel that they are more comfortable with me now.

But that is precisely my problem now - letting go.

Time flies. At most, within 2 more months, I have to let go, something which I'm finding it increasingly difficult. Perhaps I'm worried what will happen to them, what will happen to the bonds we share.

But I'm mentally prepared that all the bonds will not last. Even the apple of my eye, who's closest to me, who share a unspoken friendship with me, who's close enough for me to call him "the younger brother I never had" between. I've been mentally prepared that all those will just be a fragment of their passing memory since day one.

But I just don't know how to say goodbye when the time comes.