Happy Teacher’s Day

As I received a few “Happy Teacher’s Day” messages recently, I found myself looking back a little.

At the people I’ve crossed paths with.
At the juniors and colleagues I now work with.
At those who have moved into their own fields and specialties.

And honestly, one person came to mind very quickly.

James Schomburgk

So… Happy Teacher’s Day.
And thank you.

The Thursdays I Feared

I still remember my first year after graduating as a physio.

Like many fresh graduates, I thought I knew my stuff.

Then every Thursday came.

And every Thursday, I dreaded walking into James’s room.

This big, burly German guy sitting there with a group of us going through clinical reasoning, body charts, case reviews, movement analysis, questioning every assumption we had.

And secretly, every week, I prayed I would not be the one picked to present the case.

Because once you were picked, there was nowhere to hide.

He would question everything.

"What are you missing?"
"Why does that pattern happen?"
"What structure fits?"
"What doesn’t make sense?"
"Why are you assuming that?"
"How would you explain this to a patient?"

At that time, honestly, it was terrifying.

What Those Thursdays Taught Me

But today, looking back, I realise those Thursdays shaped a huge part of who I became professionally.

James taught me something that I still carry today:

It is not enough to sound smart.

"You need to reason properly."
"You need to understand deeply."
"And you need to be able to explain it so simply that even a five-year-old could understand it."

That part humbled me.

Because I was never the naturally brilliant student in the room.

In fact, I often felt like one of the slowest.

I remember preparing hard and still feeling like I failed.

But somewhere along the way, I made peace with something.

Maybe I would never be the smartest physio in the room.

But I could become one of the hardest working.

And I think that mindset stayed with me throughout my career.

Not because of ego.
Not because of titles.

But because patients trusted me.

And that trust deserved effort.

That trust deserved preparation.

That trust deserved someone who was still trying to improve.

Standards, Reasoning, and Growth

Looking back now, I realise James never crushed my passion for physiotherapy.

He refined it.

He taught me that standards matter.
Reasoning matters.
Details matter.
Teaching matters.

And perhaps most importantly: people grow differently.

Seeing It From the Other Side

Today, I have a small team of my own.

And sometimes, when I’m teaching them, reviewing cases with them, challenging their thinking, or asking them uncomfortable questions, I catch glimpses of those Thursdays again.

I also understand now why I’ve never fully enjoyed “one-off workshops” that promise mastery quickly.

Because real teaching does not happen in one day.

Teaching is not information dumping.

Teaching is:

• nurturing
• observing
• challenging
• repeating
• guiding
• adapting to the individual
• helping someone through their own frustrations and blind spots

That takes time.

And honestly, I am still trying to live up to the standard my teachers showed me.

Thankful for the Difficult Lessons

So this Teacher’s Day, I guess I just feel thankful.

Thankful for the people who shaped me.
Thankful for the difficult lessons.
Thankful for the uncomfortable Thursdays.
Thankful that physiotherapy still excites me enough to keep learning.

And hopefully, over time, I can continue passing some of that forward too.

Not just techniques.

But standards.
Reasoning.
Curiosity.
And care.

So thank you, James.

And Happy Teacher’s Day.

Marcus, The Physio.