A Tribute to an Educator

Master, you have my full permission to educate him in any way you see fit.”

When you consider that these words were spoken by the father of one of my classmates when admitting him to Mr Francis Sta Maria’s class, it sounded like a vote of no-confidence and a death sentence rolled into one!

I remember the feeling of dread when it was confirmed that Mr Sta Maria was going to be my class teacher. His reputation preceded him because he imposed the highest of standards on his students and, looking back now, probably took the failure of any student to realise his potential, as a personal slight. The man was born to teach but he became an educator in the larger sense of the word.

As strict as he was, he made us laugh as well. ‘My father is a champion swimmer. I am proud of him!’ I remember this line from one of our English text books. He deliberately made my friend, Karthi read it out in class. He did and the inevitable followed: “I seeee…..so, Palanisamy is a champion swimmer and you’re proud of him.” Uncle Palani, was, of course, Karthi’s dad and Mr Sta Maria had a great deal of affection for him.

You know how some people just have that knack of boosting your self belief? Mr Sta Maria was a tough man but I remember the occasion when he organised the inter-class games. I was playing 3rd singles in table tennis and I was up against John Malcolm Gordon – school athlete, prefect, footballer, generally good looking hunk, etc…basically, everything that I wasn’t. Mr Sta Maria was the umpire of that match and he was COMPLETELY partisan. Every point I won, every decent shot I made was accompanied by “Good shot, Peter” , “That’s the way you do it Peter” – that lifted me so much that I won in straight sets against a very rattled JMG (he was probably weighing the consequences of beating me and decided against it maybe?) By the way, for reasons best known to him, Mr Sta Maria refused to accept that I was plain old Pete, born without an 'r'

He despised any form of bullying and was especially hard on any such act. There’s a funny story I remember: We had a classmate called Soosay Christopher. My good friend, Peter Teh Kim Chye(TKC) used to tease him with ‘Soosay Poorkinai’ (Soosay, stray dog). Finally it all got too much for Soosay and he complained to Mr Sta Maria. I think Soosay was a bit upset that Mr Sta Maria only hauled TKC up and gave him a warning to stop. TKC, probably taking this as a victory of sorts, left the staff room after his dressing down. During recess that day, TKC encountered Soosay and promptly went ‘Soosay Poorkinai’ – not realising that Mr Sta Maria was right behind him! TKC got a caning that he never forgot. After the caning, he was made to say sorry to Soosay AND thank him for the 'education' of the cane!

Mr Sta Maria took an active interest in what his students did out of school as well. One day in class, he picked on R. Krishnan (who he called Ah Fat because he loved his food). “You know what this feller does? Every night after dinner, he sits outside his house and waits for the pau man and he always has one huge tai pau. Can you understand why you are so fat?”

“Good morning, sir, how are you sir?” He looked up at me obviously trying hard to remember.” I was in your class, 6A3, in 1976, sir.” “You look very different now, what are you doing young man?” “I’m a drug pusher, sir" - and I waited for the shock to register on his face - "...but a legal one, sir, don't worry! I’m now a sales manager with Glaxo. I still write, sir - advertising copy, and I played chess at national level, sir.” For some reason, whenever I meet an old school teacher, I feel the need to burnish my credentials a little bit more – probably more out of wanting them to feel that they did something right.

“Ah Peter, the famous writer and chess player!” his memory and recall still as sharp as ever. This was near enough to 30 years later when I met him at University Motors. While waiting for our vehicles to be serviced, we talked at length. It was really nice being able to relate to him as a peer. And I told him of how terrified I was of coming to school as well as sharing some of the oddest and obscure memories I had of 1976. We probably talked for well over 3 hours and there was no mistaking his sense of pride that another one of his students had turned out well. "Our spirit, Peter, I tell you...we La Sallians are UNbreakable" (the emphasis was his) - his last words to me.

My classmates, amongst many others, I’m sure, did not get to give Mr Sta Maria the send-off that a towering giant of his stature deserved due to the lockdown. What we will be doing though, is getting together and having an evening of drinks to reminisce about that great man and the part he played in shaping us.