Writing for a Special Day

Reflections on Over a Decade of Teaching: A Journey Through Memories

Today, as I stand at the threshold of reflecting on my more than ten years as an educator, a flood of beautiful memories rushes in. Each chapter of this journey is intertwined with cherished moments (the less pleasant ones, thankfully, fade away). If someone were to ask me what my most treasured memory from years of teaching is, I would recount the time I truly poured my heart and soul into my craft…

The day I received the news about the city-wide outstanding teacher competition, my supervisor asked, “Do you have enough time to prepare in just a few days?” I simply replied, “I’ll do my best.” Competitions had never piqued my interest. I had no desire for the superficial accolades that often surround such events; instead, I labored diligently because I had made a promise. In doing so, I sacrificed a trip to Cô Tô with my colleagues to stay home and prepare.

On the exam day in June’s sweltering heat, I observed other schools where luxurious cars picked up contestants at their doors, accompanied by enthusiastic cheer squads. I felt a pang of envy as I bore the burden of responsibility—heavy enough to make me feel frail—yet I motivated myself, reminding myself that effort was all that mattered.

When the results were announced, I could scarcely believe my ears. I instantly recalled my brother’s words: “All your efforts will be rewarded.” Just like that, I prepared to head to Da Nang for the national competition.

Despite what seemed like an endless month of preparation involving dedicated teams looking after every detail, I was still knee-deep in finalizing graduation exams just a week before departure. While my school was on summer break, I continued visiting the faculty daily. Those weeks are unforgettable—rising early and returning home late, drowning in curricula, lesson plans, PowerPoints, checklists, models, and teaching aids. I nearly forgot about eating and sleeping, often napping briefly on a thin mat on the floor in the cool air of summer. I had moments of bittersweet generosity when my students brought me snacks, or late nights when the security guard gently reminded me to head home before the late hours could be dangerous.

One evening, my students, feeling affectionate, bought me my favorite durian tea—a moment that struck a chord deep enough for me to weep alone later at home, looking at the tattered remains of my evening meal. While others hired professional filmmakers and actors to create dazzling videos for their presentations, my students and I braved a violent storm to collaborate as a team. I directed, wrote the script, filmed, and we switched roles as actors—yet the joy and success exceeded our expectations. Our outfits were self-designed and tailored; I created lesson plans and checklists, wandered from street to street searching for teaching tools, and the night before the competition, my friends gathered to help prepare the models and pack my suitcase for the education department.

I brought along two of my students to Da Nang, promising their families I would take good care of them. I am sincerely grateful for those stressful nights spent wandering along the Han River with my students. We often found ourselves out at midnight, marveling at the dragon bridge and wishing we had partners to capture those iconic moments. Our hearts raced as we experienced the flaming dragon, walked on the love bridge, released lanterns in Hội An, and savored authentic Đà Nẵng grilled pork rice paper. Oh, how vivid those moments were—beautiful escapes from countless sleepless nights, tense exams, and theoretical assessments!

As I stepped onto the stage for my lesson, I bore the encouragement of my colleagues and promised myself to give my all. Strangely, on the teaching day, I couldn’t even stomach breakfast, yet as I stood behind the lectern, I felt completely at ease, delivering my presentation with an unexpected confidence. At the end of my lecture, I saw my mother and my mentor beaming with pride, everyone applauding, flowers being thrown, and my principal gently grasping my hand, exclaiming, “You’re a small girl but oh, so strong!” while another joked, “You must have chosen the wrong career; you should be an artist!”

Though I often shied away from compliments, on that day, a comforting pride swelled within me.

For me, that moment was enough to encompass all my efforts, all those tears and sweat. All that existed beyond the competition—though I knew—was met with silence and the warmth of a smile.

As time passes, the pile of certificates, awards, and commendations collected through years of study and hard work only gathers dust atop my cabinet. Ultimately, all I have are the memories—never once have I felt compelled to brag about my achievements or recognition. Truly, what stands the test of time isn’t the fleeting praise, but rather the beautiful memories, kindness, and humanity we experience along the way.

On my last day as a teacher, I penned down a few thoughts and was met with heartfelt wishes and encouragement from colleagues and students alike. It felt as if everyone smiled kindly, opening their arms to embrace me, bringing comfort. So many tears had been shed, and gratitude words could hardly express! I leave behind a few lines of love to remember…

The Dragon Bridge – Da Nang

This story is a celebration not just of personal achievement but of experiences shared, lessons learned, and relationships built over a decade of teaching. For more inspiring stories and educational insights, please explore our dedicated Education Blog.

For resources on effective teaching strategies, consider visiting the American Association of Colleges for Teacher Education.