I spent 14 years of my life at Sunbeams. During this time, Sunbeams was the most important, even the defining, aspect of my life. In my mind, it was the most amazing place in the world and it constituted my entire world. So much so, it was really painful for me to graduate. In short, I lived in a tiny bubble that I viewed as a utopia through my rose-colored glasses. And Mrs. Manzur was a godlike figure of this little utopia. I didn’t have frequent contact with her, but I always knew that she was there, she cared about each one of us and was watching over each one of us; we all worked hard to make her proud; and any praise from her was the highest praise we could have ever imagined.
As happens in life, I had to grow up. I started getting reality checks about the world. I didn’t have as perfect a life and as perfect a family as I had grown up believing. Sunbeams wasn’t the most perfect place that I had imagined it to be. And Mrs. Manzur – and all my other beloved teachers – were only human. I got reality checks about myself too, honestly. I wasn’t as brilliant as I thought I was when I was in Sunbeams. Forget Science and Engineering, I discovered that I wasn’t nearly as good at Math and English as I had thought. Even my writing skills weren’t as stellar as I had believed. I felt betrayed by these discoveries…to such a degree, that for a while I started distancing myself from my Beamer identity, which I thought was the source of my delusions.
It was childish of me. It was childish of me to have idealized Sunbeams to such an extreme extent and it was childish of me to feel betrayed when I discovered it was less than perfect. It has been 14 years since I graduated from Sunbeams. I spent a greater part of those 14 years being childish in this way. Only recently did I start to view my experience in Sunbeams through a more objective lens. And it was with the passing of Mrs. Manzur that it truly hit me how much and what Sunbeams has actually done for me. Oh how I wish I had had this realization before, so I could have told her myself. Now the most I can do is make this admission in tribute.
True, the education in Sunbeams wasn’t at the level that my university peers had received. But what school in Bangladesh was? I received the best education I could have dreamed to get given my circumstances. That I even got admitted to a top university was something that should have humbled me. (I did in fact receive a huge dosage of much-needed humility throughout the course of my life, I am happy to report.) True, Sunbeams wasn’t acutely attuned to the emotional development of some of the children. When I reflected back, I realized that I had been treated somewhat differently from those who performed poorly or those who were bullied, yet they had been the ones who needed the most care. But then again, Bangladesh, and in fact the world, is only really starting to understand the importance of emotional development and emotional education. Taking the full context into account, Sunbeams was miles ahead of its peers. And it was because Mrs. Manzur worked so hard to exert her positive influence over all disciplinarians.
What Sunbeams truly did for me was to give me some of my core values. I have now come to realize that Sunbeams, Mrs. Manzur, and my many teachers have all played just as important a role in shaping me to be who I am as has my family. And that is far more valuable than how good I was at Math and English compared to the world’s top students. As I think about the values that define me, I realize that I have been subconsciously emulating Mrs. Manzur my whole life. I operate with an awareness of my environment and my surroundings and everyone in it. I try to be cognizant of what they need and how my actions might affect them. I try to consciously have a positive impact on them to the extent possible. I try to offer support where I can and when I help, I hope that it is paid forward. And no matter what I do or what I achieve, I never feel that I do enough. These are the qualities Mrs. Manzur tried to promote by setting an example for everyone – students, teachers, parents, guardians. And these are qualities that I see in Beamers. Truth be told, living in the “real world,” I encounter so many people who do not embody any of these characteristics. I am generalizing broadly here…but Beamers do, by and large, embody these values.
As is evident from the countless tributes pouring forth for her, it is abundantly clear that Mrs. Manzur was a force of positive influence on everyone around her. She inspired everyone to try harder, to think harder, and to be better. She did this by truly caring about everyone in her sphere (and it was quite a large sphere), by trying to understand what they needed, trying to support them in the way she could, and by setting an example. If I can be a fraction of any of that, I would consider it a huge accomplishment as a human being.
My childhood fantasies of Sunbeams being a magical place wasn’t completely off the mark. I just had some misplaced ideas about the kind of education I had received. In reality, I received a holistic education that taught me decent academic and extra-curricular skills, but most importantly, it taught me how to be a good member of a community. For that, I am forever grateful. I so wish I had the opportunity to tell Mrs. Manzur this. But let me take a step back and remember all of my other teachers who also played a crucial role in my development at Sunbeams. Mrs. Manzur’s magic was that her positive force created an entire community that in turn passed on their positive forces. And I have most definitely benefitted from the support, encouragement, inspiration, and moral lessons from so many of my Beamer teachers. It’s too late to tell Mrs. Manzur how grateful I am. But it’s not too late to reach out to my other teachers, express my gratitude, and keep in touch. And this is what I will try to do. Mrs. Manzur would have wanted that.
Tushmit's Stream of Consciousness 