“If you are a teacher, you should continue to teach. When you stop teaching, you die. That’s true of anybody. Whatever you are good at, you should continue to do it. Because when the skill is neglected, it becomes lost. You become miserable, and that is death.”
Generations of Campion Anglo-Indian Higher Secondary School students would be able to recognise the words of their former English teacher Michael Blaise Vernum, who has got 41 years of experience to back up his statement.
Speaking to us at his residence in Kottapattu neighbourhood of Ponmalai, Mr. Vernum shares his views on the teaching profession and education in general.
“Initially when I joined Campion [in 1973], I thought it was something temporary, but He willed that I should be there,” says the deeply spiritual Mr. Vernum. Joining as a Physical Science teacher, he was asked to also handle English for Classes 6-11 (then known as High School), and eventually such was his skill in the latter subject that “nobody knows now that I was a Physics graduate,” he chuckles.
Language lover
The veteran resident of the city who describes himself as “very much a Tamilian though I belong to the Anglo-Indian community,” says teachers should put in the effort to make an impact on their students. “If the teacher is not proficient, cannot do something, then you cannot expect the student to do the same thing. When I’d write on the board, I’d always tell them to write like me – my handwriting on the board was always good, not so much on paper ( laughs ).
“I used to tell them that ‘you should write like me, speak like me, and if you can’t, you must do better than me,’” he says.
With English emerging as a lingua franca within India, does he find it paradoxical that the quality of teaching it has declined over the years? “We have lost the study of literature, even language,” he agrees. “There’s a guide, and everyone studies from a guide. If you don’t, you don’t get 100%.”
While his stint at Campion is over, his journey as a teacher of English, shaped by his years as a co-ordinator for common exams for Anglo-Indian syllabus schools in the state for 25 years and a member of the panel of inspection for Montfort schools, is still continuing. He is currently a trainer for students taking the IELTS examination through the British Council. Next year, he is planning to conduct workshops for English teachers in the city.
Besides this, he has lent his voice, often dubbed ‘B.B.C’ (British Broadcasting Corporation) for its clear and clipped tone, to numerous documentaries and also officiated as master of ceremonies for school functions for over three decades.
Of late, Mr. Vernum has begun writing religion-themed poetry for Christmas cards, the artwork for which is done by his brother-in-law (and former English professor) Eugene d’Vaz.
He also runs the voluntary lay apostolate organisation MIFARE (Mission for Faith Renewal) with his wife Maria.
‘That’s the way it should be’
Asked if he remembers any of his students, he replies in the negative. “I’m guided by one principle, not to know the status of my children,” he says. “When you ride on a two-wheeler, someone asks you for a lift, he sits behind you, you don’t see his face, you don’t know his cellphone number or his address. You don’t know who you have helped. And when he gets off, he goes his way and you go yours. And that’s the way it should be.”
The love of anonymity has seeped into his writing as well – he has been ghost-writing (on request, he assures us) many of the speeches delivered by school officials and also editing journals anonymously. “Even Swami Vivekananda has said ‘work without expectation of reward,’” he smiles.
Commenting on how life has changed in the city over the years, Mr. Vernum says, “In former times, there was a lot of togetherness. We always closed during December, there were a lot of occasions to get together. Today the work style has changed, both parents are working, the children are alone, and they always find reasons not to socialise.”
And perhaps to dispel the idea that Mr. Vernum was an extremely virtuous schoolboy, he reminisces about a friend with whom he used to roam the Railway Colony during their long lunch breaks, “doing all the Huckleberry stuff.”
“We stole mangoes, gave them to the girls, collected lizards and put them in their desks …” he laughs out loud, “but towards the 10-11th Standard, I became rather sober.”
Mr. Vernum’s father served in the British Army for seven and a half years in southeast Asia. His parents decided to give up British citizenship on the insistence of his paternal grandmother, and returned to build a life in Tiruchi instead.
“My father was an avid reader,” recalls Mr. Vernum. “When he came back to India, he worked in the Railway workshops. He made sure that all six of us were educated. I couldn’t go on to post-graduation because I had to help my younger brothers and sisters with their studies. But I don’t miss that at all, because He has shown me another way.”
Quite content with his lot, and a proud father of four children (who tease him about his teacher-ly ways, he admits), Mr. Vernum is now devoted to theological studies, gardening and home aquaria. There’s pleasure to be found in the simplest thing we do, he says.
“Because there’s no hierarchy in Heaven, is there? Saint or sinner, we all have to go back to Him,” he concludes.
