Going beyond lessons

“The task of an excellent teacher is to stimulate apparently ordinary people to unusual effort,” said American scholar of educational research, Kathryn Patricia Cross.

The “stimulation” would come only if a teacher delves into the hearts of students before he plunges into books.

Just the way the Oscar favourite this year, Tom Hooper’s film The King’s Speech portrays an unusual teacher-student relationship, which begins on a jarring note, but once the ice is broken, helps build a mutual trust which in turn eventually helps the student give a flawless performance.

On the face of it, The King’s Speech is the story of King George VI of Britain, his impromptu ascension to the throne and an unconventional speech therapist, Lionel Logue who helps the monarch become worthy of it.

The film is set in the turbulent times of the 1940s that placed humanity in the lap of World War II. This was the age of the radio and King George VI, with his stammering problem, can’t deliver a speech to inspire the nation.

That, at a time when he is overshadowed on the global stage by powerful orators like Adolf Hitler and Benito Mussolini. Here, the king relies on the help of a little-known Australian speech therapist to find his voice and courageously lead his people into the most devastating war the human race has ever faced.

The inspiring story is poised on the relationship between the British royalty coming to terms with the wishes of a commoner who is his only hope to delivering a near-impeccable speech.

Woven into the story is the delineation of teacher-student rapport and its irrefutable influence in determining the successful performance of a student. Unorthodoxy forms the cornerstone of Logue’s approach to curing the king’s stutter.

For this, he first insists on building bridges with his student, sink all differences of class and step on an equal footing. The maverick insinuates himself into the king’s confidence, makes him believe in what he is doing and then imparts his lessons.

It’s this confidence that helps George VI triumph over his verbal stagger and is, indeed, what one wishes all teacher-student relationships were based on.