We actually had PTM with Z’s teacher at his speech and drama school. After all, she conducted weekly lessons for him for the past semester.
Her observation of him was pretty accurate. We were mindful of the areas he had to work on. Most importantly, he was a likeable student and had picked up fast in class.
She was the second teacher in the week to comment that he was a smart boy. Sometimes, it felt like I was a mean mummy for not giving him as stellar a rating.
I had always told Z that his results were for him and only him. It did not matter if he did well or not. I would love him nonetheless but whether I felt proud of him was another matter. Nay, I did not say the latter.
At least, I had gotten him to identify that when he became overly excited, he would forget everything. He would forget himself, his knowledge, his work, self control and all the rules.
After his final class of the semester, I challenged him to teach the Chinese poem to X. If he succeeded as a mini teacher and X mastered the poem, both would be rewarded.
Z was overzealous and kept pushing X to learn, even when X got tired. It was very funny because we had to tell him to be patient and not stress his “student”. That illustrated our overzealousness in pushing Z too! Guess he could finally identify with us.