WHEN a student fell from the second floor of the Institute of Technical Education (ITE) College Central on Bedok campus and bruised her back, Ms Gan Geok Hong paid the hospital bill.

When another came to class with a bleeding leg, she rushed him to a clinic.

And when two students fell out over a misunderstanding, it was Ms Gan who stepped in to help them patch up.

The 40-year-old building drafting lecturer considers it all in a day's work. Her caring ways earned her an ITE Teacher Award this year.

If it takes one to know one, it is no wonder Ms Gan bonds so well with her students. The former student at McNair Vocational Institute also graduated from the school of hard knocks.

She was born the youngest of seven children in a poor family. Her father was a trishaw rider and she was still a child when her mother died.

The family lived with three other families in an attap house with a leaky roof. She remembers not being able to do her homework until late at night when everyone was asleep.

Like many an ITE student past and present, she had to work to help support the family: she spent her hours after school helping out at a drinks stall in Marine Parade from age 10.

'I was most afraid of rainy days as the roof leaked and I could not do my homework,' she recounts.

And like many others from homes where English is not spoken, the former Kuo Chuan Secondary student could not clear her O-level English in 1985 and ended up in vocational training.

At McNair, however, she found her niche and topped her batch of about 120 in architectural drafting. She went on to obtain a diploma in architectural technology from Singapore Polytechnic before getting a degree from the University of New South Wales in 1998.

She worked as an architectural designer at ST Architects & Engineers for more than 10 years, before deciding to return to ITE in 2003. 'I wanted to go back and see what I could do,' she says.

Ms Gan, who is single, did not have a great start. In her early days as lecturer at ITE College Central (Bedok), she would sometimes lose her cool and shout at students who talked during her class. 'It was not right and it didn't help. I shouldn't have done that.'

She now believes in setting ground rules and being firm but has also learnt to be patient and encouraging.

She keeps close tabs on her students, bringing biscuits for those who go without breakfast and printing out motivation notes for them.

She also walks around the campus looking out for those who seem troubled.

Her greatest satisfaction, she says, is the affirmation from students she has helped.

She remembers a student who had to take on a full-time job when his father lost his job and his mother fell ill.

Suddenly, the weight of supporting his parents and two younger sisters fell on the boy's young shoulders.

He worked at a pub from 8pm to 4am or later, and was often too tired to go to school. When he did, he often fell asleep in class.

He wanted to drop out, but Ms Gan did her best to keep him in school, giving him make-up lessons and setting him some homework when he could not attend class.

A week before the final exams, she gave him intensive coaching to help him catch up.

In the end, he passed and is now a full-time national serviceman.

On the last day of school, the teen, who had never stepped inside the staff room because he was usually too scruffy, made the effort to seek her out there to thank her personally.

She tries to help students see the big picture and take responsibility for their own lives. 'I tell them, 'You must start from somewhere, you must want to learn, not for your mother, or Ms Gan, but for yourself'.'

If there's one thing that she wants to give to her students, it is hope even when things seem bleak.

She recalls how, in her first year at university in Australia, she wanted to quit because she ran out of money and found the work too tough.

But friends encouraged her to persevere and even lent her money for her fees.

'I always feel very grateful for my life, there are a lot of good people around me.'

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