The small teacher does not appear when many are watching.
They appear when there is no audience.
When you see someone lifting weight the wrong way
and you simply say:
“bend your knees a little.”
You didn’t teach a lesson.
You protected a body.
When someone asks you for directions
and you stop to show them clearly —
not rushed, not distracted,
but present and precise.
In that moment, you become a reference point.
When during training you stand next to someone less experienced
and, without many words,
you show them how to breathe inside the movement.
Not to make them better.
So they don’t get lost.
When you play Capoeira and know you could dominate the exchange,
but choose to lower yourself,
change rhythm,
and leave space.
You teach without speaking.
The small teacher also appears outside of movement.
When someone is angry at you
and you don’t rise to the same tone.
You stay steady.
Present.
That is a lesson in self-control.
When you don’t know the answer
and you simply say:
“I don’t know.”
You teach honesty.
When you stop before you get injured.
You teach limits.
When you help someone stand up
without pulling them abruptly,
following their rhythm.
The same way you help a Camarada rise from the ground.
The small teacher doesn’t always correct.
Sometimes they simply stand correctly.
No title is needed.
No circle.
Only a body that listens and a human being who respects.
And every time we stand correctly in a small moment,
something is passed on.
Quietly.
The way Capoeira passes when it is real.