I think I now have an idea of what is so wrong with me.
I guess my biological system is letting me know that I am not getting any younger and that I had not done anything about that.
Just last night, while I was imagining myself in a near death experience (just my absolutely bizarre imagination, I’m afraid), all I could think of was that I wish a vampire or a werewolf would jump in the way and save me.
Well, as rotten luck would have it, no supernatural creature showed itself. Instead, I got home safe and sound and utterly bored with my life.
Yep. I am just bored with my oh so safe, oh so predictable.
I am just longing to feel my heart quicken a bit. My heart has played dead for a long while now. It has not faltered at the sight of a male. My breath remained steady in the presence of the guys I have met.
Now I know why falling in love (or even in crush is such a fascinating experience). It makes us feel a little more alive each day.
I guess I am really more dead than alive right now. All I can think about are the things that I have to do for class, my graduate school requirements, my writing. My life lacks the things that I crave most: adventure, romance and passion.
Love is too weak a word for what I have in mind. Passion, the blazing glory and flame of passion is what I am truly after.
Excuse me, where can one find a werewolf that is physically like Jacob Black (as Meyer described, not as portrayed by Lautner).
Well, Vampire’s are cool. But everybody seems to want them. Urgh! I forgot, everybody wants werewolves now. Let us see. What else is out there?
Hey, everyone, if you find some unclaimed beast or monster out there, just tell me. I am craving for some stupid-lamb-and-sad-masochistic-lion drama here.
Friday, July 17, 2009
An All New Kind of Pain
I told myself I have recovered from the imaginary battering my heart has taken for over two years now.
I said I only needed an honest half-day rest.
Really? I guess, a day later, everything has sort of backfired. A rest is not enough. I wanted to leave, right now, this afternoon, today, this very month.
But, I know I cannot.
All this school-community thing sickens me. It only makes me realize that I do not really fit in.
I escaped the meeting. I never realized that I do not need meetings to remind me that I do not belong. I just have to follow that call.
That call, however, is so vague now. It has receded because I declined it. Because I have refused to think of anything else except to serve my beloved Alma Mater. Now, the thing I want most is the things that hurts me most.
So much for love and loving what you do.
A student asked me why I looked so preoccupied. I told her I was thinking. Then, she asked what I was thinking about. I cannot answer. Because I was not really thinking.
I was just so lost inside my own head, so out of touch from the reality I am in, so craving for things that are not mine and are not here.
Something’s eating me. It has been bugging me for a long while that I had started calling it my very own personal WORM.
I said I only needed an honest half-day rest.
Really? I guess, a day later, everything has sort of backfired. A rest is not enough. I wanted to leave, right now, this afternoon, today, this very month.
But, I know I cannot.
All this school-community thing sickens me. It only makes me realize that I do not really fit in.
I escaped the meeting. I never realized that I do not need meetings to remind me that I do not belong. I just have to follow that call.
That call, however, is so vague now. It has receded because I declined it. Because I have refused to think of anything else except to serve my beloved Alma Mater. Now, the thing I want most is the things that hurts me most.
So much for love and loving what you do.
A student asked me why I looked so preoccupied. I told her I was thinking. Then, she asked what I was thinking about. I cannot answer. Because I was not really thinking.
I was just so lost inside my own head, so out of touch from the reality I am in, so craving for things that are not mine and are not here.
Something’s eating me. It has been bugging me for a long while that I had started calling it my very own personal WORM.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
I Am A Vampire: On the Fringes of Existence
Now Playing: New Divide
Yes, I have gone through New Moon and Eclipse with frightening speed (and blasphemous skips). Now, I am savoring Breaking Down page by slow page.
I love Breaking Down. I adored some portions of New Moon and Eclipse (not all, no, I am not that patient)…
Anyway, this is not about the Twilight Saga actually or the fact that my brains seemed to have literally shut down after spending night after night poring over Stepheni Meyer’s sick fantasies (and making up my own, which happens to be sicker than Stephenie’s).
This is about me (as usual) and my vampiric career.
I used to keep mum about how I feel being the outcast of the system. It has been a taboo topic in my blog because I feel so conspicuous.
What makes this post an exception? Probably because here I am in the office while all the other teachers are up there in a meeting.
I never revealed this to anyone before. Well, not anyone who could easily rat me out to the higher ups that is. But, I could no longer bear the pain I feel.
I hate faculty meetings. Why?
Because it makes me feel that I am an outcast, that I am not on the rolls, that I am not a part of the organization I have chosen to place my allegiance on.
I was often told that I am, in reality, not a good team player. I tend to think only of myself and I often forget others. However, my school cannot really accuse me of that before.
Now, however, it is a different matter.
It took me a half-day rest to get over the depression that sort of gripped me for a few weeks now. I think the rest is not even enough. Right now, I feel cheerful, fine and accepting. Right now, I feel okay.
That is why I have chosen not to attend the meeting today. Because I do not want to feel bad. I don’t want to destabilize the tricky balance I have right now.
I consolingly told myself not to expect anything from the organization. That sort of erased all the frustrations that ate at me since day one. I told myself that two years from now, I am leaving this school. That I only have to bear the pain of making the wrong choice for two more years na lang guid.
However, attending meetings with all the teachers there is just too painful to contemplate, so I decided to skip this meeting. No meetings for baby vampire until she has learned to control her thirst.
I guess I will never belong to the world of ordinary human beings. I am for too conspicuous, far too different, far too unlike them to mixed with them that easily.
I, an unknown entity in this school, an unlisted teacher, have just realized my truth. I am glad I have made the choice and have accepted that in this place, I am a vampire, unknown, unseen, not really a part of the place I am in.
Yes, I have gone through New Moon and Eclipse with frightening speed (and blasphemous skips). Now, I am savoring Breaking Down page by slow page.
I love Breaking Down. I adored some portions of New Moon and Eclipse (not all, no, I am not that patient)…
Anyway, this is not about the Twilight Saga actually or the fact that my brains seemed to have literally shut down after spending night after night poring over Stepheni Meyer’s sick fantasies (and making up my own, which happens to be sicker than Stephenie’s).
This is about me (as usual) and my vampiric career.
I used to keep mum about how I feel being the outcast of the system. It has been a taboo topic in my blog because I feel so conspicuous.
What makes this post an exception? Probably because here I am in the office while all the other teachers are up there in a meeting.
I never revealed this to anyone before. Well, not anyone who could easily rat me out to the higher ups that is. But, I could no longer bear the pain I feel.
I hate faculty meetings. Why?
Because it makes me feel that I am an outcast, that I am not on the rolls, that I am not a part of the organization I have chosen to place my allegiance on.
I was often told that I am, in reality, not a good team player. I tend to think only of myself and I often forget others. However, my school cannot really accuse me of that before.
Now, however, it is a different matter.
It took me a half-day rest to get over the depression that sort of gripped me for a few weeks now. I think the rest is not even enough. Right now, I feel cheerful, fine and accepting. Right now, I feel okay.
That is why I have chosen not to attend the meeting today. Because I do not want to feel bad. I don’t want to destabilize the tricky balance I have right now.
I consolingly told myself not to expect anything from the organization. That sort of erased all the frustrations that ate at me since day one. I told myself that two years from now, I am leaving this school. That I only have to bear the pain of making the wrong choice for two more years na lang guid.
However, attending meetings with all the teachers there is just too painful to contemplate, so I decided to skip this meeting. No meetings for baby vampire until she has learned to control her thirst.
I guess I will never belong to the world of ordinary human beings. I am for too conspicuous, far too different, far too unlike them to mixed with them that easily.
I, an unknown entity in this school, an unlisted teacher, have just realized my truth. I am glad I have made the choice and have accepted that in this place, I am a vampire, unknown, unseen, not really a part of the place I am in.
An Odd Depression
I wonder why I am feeling so down this afternoon. It is a Saturday and I just had a nice day at Grad School. Aside from that, I was able to eat a hefty meal when I got home.
However, I am wondering why I feel so down and so sad and so unhappy. Is it because our helper for a month has just left? Even if I did not really like her, Cynthia has become a fixture whenever I get home from school.
Her chatter, her unusually chummy ways, her innocent enquiries that sometimes ticked me off were a part of her very nature.
I must admit I did not treat Cynthia well when she was here. I either ignored her or I just refused to acknowledge her presence. I was not openly hostile with her, I guess, I just took her presence for granted.
When I arrived earlier and I saw her at the front of the house getting ready to leave, I felt kinda sad. Like, I should have treated her well. I felt sorry for her too since I know what kind of life she has in the barangay where she came from.
But I still feel sad now and I do not like the feeling. I was not like this earlier. I was not chirpy or happy but I was just tired. Now, I was able to sleep off most of the tiredness on the bus ride home but I still feel sad.
What is this… I wonder
However, I am wondering why I feel so down and so sad and so unhappy. Is it because our helper for a month has just left? Even if I did not really like her, Cynthia has become a fixture whenever I get home from school.
Her chatter, her unusually chummy ways, her innocent enquiries that sometimes ticked me off were a part of her very nature.
I must admit I did not treat Cynthia well when she was here. I either ignored her or I just refused to acknowledge her presence. I was not openly hostile with her, I guess, I just took her presence for granted.
When I arrived earlier and I saw her at the front of the house getting ready to leave, I felt kinda sad. Like, I should have treated her well. I felt sorry for her too since I know what kind of life she has in the barangay where she came from.
But I still feel sad now and I do not like the feeling. I was not like this earlier. I was not chirpy or happy but I was just tired. Now, I was able to sleep off most of the tiredness on the bus ride home but I still feel sad.
What is this… I wonder
Misuderstood
July 13, 2009: 7:12 PM
Now Playing: Leave out All the Rest
Story of my life, I guess.
Nobody really understood why I do what I do. I myself cannot understand why I do what I do. All I know is I have accepted it and I want to do it, darn it.
My mother and I had an argument just awhile ago about my involvement in the Debate Society. She said what I do is useless, I don’t get recognized anyway so its all a pointless exercise.
I got angry with her. I told her that I am not like them and others who only see the here and now. I do see the here and now, but I am always looking forward to the future.
I also told her that unlike her and other people here in this damned place, I hear the beat of a different drum; I just can’t completely march to it without hurting their feelings.
A lot of people have never understood me. I make an effort to understand them, get to the bottom of the act and try to understand why they do what they do. That is why I am not as easily angered as I was before. I always make an effort to make allowances.
Others could not seem to understand why I give my salary to my mother and why I do not reserve things for myself. Because for me, it does not really matter. Because for me, my reason for working and for staying here, at this school, is to help my mother.
Because if that was not my motive in the first place, I would not have stayed here. Not after three years.
God, life is so damn painful sometimes. I’m sitting here hurting and my sister is over there listening to music like she has no problem at all. I wanted to share, but their reaction makes me feel like my problem is not worth listening at all, so I just keep quiet. Keep all these to myself. Because in the end, whatever I say, no matter what I do, no one would really understand.
I would just feel cheap if I share these things and no one gives it as much importance as I do.
People like me are rarely found in this place, that is why I find it difficult to easily share my thoughts to anyone.
My mother only wants me to worry with her about my siblings and where to get the allowance for the next day. I really cant share my thoughts with her, the things that I believe in, all the things that matter to me because they don’t mean anything to her.
It is so difficult. Not having anyone to just be there and sympathize with you. I have been feeling depressed lately. I’m becoming suicidal again, I guess.
Something is eating me up inside. And I don’t know what to do with it.
Now Playing: Leave out All the Rest
Story of my life, I guess.
Nobody really understood why I do what I do. I myself cannot understand why I do what I do. All I know is I have accepted it and I want to do it, darn it.
My mother and I had an argument just awhile ago about my involvement in the Debate Society. She said what I do is useless, I don’t get recognized anyway so its all a pointless exercise.
I got angry with her. I told her that I am not like them and others who only see the here and now. I do see the here and now, but I am always looking forward to the future.
I also told her that unlike her and other people here in this damned place, I hear the beat of a different drum; I just can’t completely march to it without hurting their feelings.
A lot of people have never understood me. I make an effort to understand them, get to the bottom of the act and try to understand why they do what they do. That is why I am not as easily angered as I was before. I always make an effort to make allowances.
Others could not seem to understand why I give my salary to my mother and why I do not reserve things for myself. Because for me, it does not really matter. Because for me, my reason for working and for staying here, at this school, is to help my mother.
Because if that was not my motive in the first place, I would not have stayed here. Not after three years.
God, life is so damn painful sometimes. I’m sitting here hurting and my sister is over there listening to music like she has no problem at all. I wanted to share, but their reaction makes me feel like my problem is not worth listening at all, so I just keep quiet. Keep all these to myself. Because in the end, whatever I say, no matter what I do, no one would really understand.
I would just feel cheap if I share these things and no one gives it as much importance as I do.
People like me are rarely found in this place, that is why I find it difficult to easily share my thoughts to anyone.
My mother only wants me to worry with her about my siblings and where to get the allowance for the next day. I really cant share my thoughts with her, the things that I believe in, all the things that matter to me because they don’t mean anything to her.
It is so difficult. Not having anyone to just be there and sympathize with you. I have been feeling depressed lately. I’m becoming suicidal again, I guess.
Something is eating me up inside. And I don’t know what to do with it.
Immediate Plans
Well yes, I did my duty to my Alma Mater. I have given it a portion of myself and my time and I did my best for it, while I could.
It is time that I did that best to myself, find my destiny somewhere else and get over this depression that comes from deeply imbedded feelings of rejection and inadequacy. The attacks are more frequent now, more deeply felt, more encompassing.
Just when I thought things are better, I would just burst into tears for no apparent reason. So, I have to make a move… I have to leave the old school.
The plan is set. After my stint at grad school, I am leaving my Alma Mater for good, not to seek greener pastures (I used to be happy to rot in my hometown eight years ago) but to find myself, my special place in the sun and pursue my destiny.
I originally thought I was destined to teach at my old highschool. I did not know that I was fighting what was willed for me in the first place when I forcibly instigated myself into the old school.
Now, three years under its shadow, I have come to know better.
It no longer matters where I teach, and whether I teach my fellow Passinhons or not. Teaching is a universal call for me and I have accepted that as long as I teach, I could always radiate what God has given me to those impressionable and hungry souls who have come to school to seek out parcels of their own truth.
I used to be so biased about teaching. Yes, I was honestly difficult when it comes to that. I voiced out my disapproval about teachers who go abroad and those who teach in places far from their hometowns. I used to think that teaching could only be meaningful if you teach people who mean so much to you. I used to think that teaching would only have sense if you teach you kasimanwas.
Now, I have come to realize that whoever and wherever you teach, you eventually care for the practice and you would feel the same way towards your students. Teaching is an investment of a teacher’s time, effort and self to help the students find themselves. You always give a part of yourself away whenever you teach and that would make you care for those people who would eventually receive the pieces you gave away…your students.
I am glad that my old school would no longer need me as much as I need to be needed. I am glad that the memory of turning my back from my Alma Mater would no longer haunt me as I used to think it would.
Because I have, finally, made my decision. I am leaving the old school after two more years. By then, I would have left a beautiful story, and I would have taught several Passinhons about life and the real world. Hopefully, by then, I would have left something that they would remember me with.
By that time, I would be ready to explore other worlds, other wonders. Some would think I would apply to my old college school.
I don’t think I would do that. I have learned that I actually would not feel comfortable rubbing elbows with people who know me well.
Life would be easy if I make a clean break of it and go to a new place where I would learn new things.
I am very grateful to my old school for not tying me down. It made me realize that I am being called somewhere else. That I am actually marching to the beat of a different drum, that I am actually hearing a different call than the one I have run after.
What I used to think as rejection was actually a blessing in disguise.
Truly, God works in mysterious ways.
It is time that I did that best to myself, find my destiny somewhere else and get over this depression that comes from deeply imbedded feelings of rejection and inadequacy. The attacks are more frequent now, more deeply felt, more encompassing.
Just when I thought things are better, I would just burst into tears for no apparent reason. So, I have to make a move… I have to leave the old school.
The plan is set. After my stint at grad school, I am leaving my Alma Mater for good, not to seek greener pastures (I used to be happy to rot in my hometown eight years ago) but to find myself, my special place in the sun and pursue my destiny.
I originally thought I was destined to teach at my old highschool. I did not know that I was fighting what was willed for me in the first place when I forcibly instigated myself into the old school.
Now, three years under its shadow, I have come to know better.
It no longer matters where I teach, and whether I teach my fellow Passinhons or not. Teaching is a universal call for me and I have accepted that as long as I teach, I could always radiate what God has given me to those impressionable and hungry souls who have come to school to seek out parcels of their own truth.
I used to be so biased about teaching. Yes, I was honestly difficult when it comes to that. I voiced out my disapproval about teachers who go abroad and those who teach in places far from their hometowns. I used to think that teaching could only be meaningful if you teach people who mean so much to you. I used to think that teaching would only have sense if you teach you kasimanwas.
Now, I have come to realize that whoever and wherever you teach, you eventually care for the practice and you would feel the same way towards your students. Teaching is an investment of a teacher’s time, effort and self to help the students find themselves. You always give a part of yourself away whenever you teach and that would make you care for those people who would eventually receive the pieces you gave away…your students.
I am glad that my old school would no longer need me as much as I need to be needed. I am glad that the memory of turning my back from my Alma Mater would no longer haunt me as I used to think it would.
Because I have, finally, made my decision. I am leaving the old school after two more years. By then, I would have left a beautiful story, and I would have taught several Passinhons about life and the real world. Hopefully, by then, I would have left something that they would remember me with.
By that time, I would be ready to explore other worlds, other wonders. Some would think I would apply to my old college school.
I don’t think I would do that. I have learned that I actually would not feel comfortable rubbing elbows with people who know me well.
Life would be easy if I make a clean break of it and go to a new place where I would learn new things.
I am very grateful to my old school for not tying me down. It made me realize that I am being called somewhere else. That I am actually marching to the beat of a different drum, that I am actually hearing a different call than the one I have run after.
What I used to think as rejection was actually a blessing in disguise.
Truly, God works in mysterious ways.
Bugged Down
I caught the bug last Friday so I was unable to attend my classes.
It felt so nice, staying at home, I mean. I think I really missed a lot of my old lazy days. Its just so beautiful to laze around and do nothing once in a while, right. I missed doing all that.
Staying at home, watching movies again and again, listening to music… I think I am going to buy an MP3 (daad MP5) player so I could just drown out the ugly buzz of daily life.
Anyway, I don’t exactly feel much better now since the rest I had was only a one day thing. I had my Saturday graduate school classes, so it meant I had to cut short my convalescence. Yeah, I had to wake up at 3 Am and I prepared for the Sat thing since we had an assignment in our Structure of English class.
Whew.
Anyway, by Sunday, I was in a mad dash to encode a backlog of paperworks I had not attended to when I skipped school and I also had to encode a bunch of lecture notes for my Friday literature classes.
On Sunday, I refined my lesson plans interspersed with the reading of two pulp novels and the re-scanning of Jane Asuten’s Northanger Abbey. I also had to reflect since I was not feeling as chirpy as I was supposed to.
I could not even summon the desire to attend the mass so I skipped it as well. I slept at around 9:49 Pm and I woke up at 4:14 AM. I had to rush on writing my visual aids since I was not able to finish it up the other night, thanks to Samson and his son and his troops in The Wild (really nice day, really nice day da dan da da).
Anyway, I was able to arrive in school this morning at about 6:43 and I immediately turned on my radio for a daily dose of DYBS’ Shepherd’s Voice (Good Times with Mo? Can’t, my Christian needs come first eh.)
Then, before I knew it, I had to attend the flag raising ceremony and make sure that my advisory Class’ assignment is taken cared off before the first period bell rang.
Then, the rest is everyday life for a teacher like me. An English 2 class from 7:30 to 8:30, another English 2 class from 8:30 to 9:30, break from 9:30 to 9:40, vacant period (for checking, recording and/or resting ) at 9:40 to 10:40, an English 3 class at 10:40 to 11:40, lunch break at 11:40 to 12:40, another vacant (which I usually spend sleeping and/or listening to DYBS’ Day by Day and World News and Classical Guitar Hour) at 12:40 to 1:40, an English 3 class at 1:40 to 2:40 and an English 2 class at 2:40 to 3:40.
After that, I can go home if I dared to, or I have to wait for five PM for my thrice monthly meetings with the Debate Society (of which I am one of the advisers). We usually have one Council Meeting, and 2 regular meetings.
Then, sometime after six, I would go back to the office, type in a page of my novel or two, and go home. Or, I would go to my favorite internet café and download some songs, or just browse the net for whatever information, or I would go to my favorite barbecue-han and buy two pieces of baboy (yum,yum). Or maybe, I’d just go home and wala lang.
It felt so nice, staying at home, I mean. I think I really missed a lot of my old lazy days. Its just so beautiful to laze around and do nothing once in a while, right. I missed doing all that.
Staying at home, watching movies again and again, listening to music… I think I am going to buy an MP3 (daad MP5) player so I could just drown out the ugly buzz of daily life.
Anyway, I don’t exactly feel much better now since the rest I had was only a one day thing. I had my Saturday graduate school classes, so it meant I had to cut short my convalescence. Yeah, I had to wake up at 3 Am and I prepared for the Sat thing since we had an assignment in our Structure of English class.
Whew.
Anyway, by Sunday, I was in a mad dash to encode a backlog of paperworks I had not attended to when I skipped school and I also had to encode a bunch of lecture notes for my Friday literature classes.
On Sunday, I refined my lesson plans interspersed with the reading of two pulp novels and the re-scanning of Jane Asuten’s Northanger Abbey. I also had to reflect since I was not feeling as chirpy as I was supposed to.
I could not even summon the desire to attend the mass so I skipped it as well. I slept at around 9:49 Pm and I woke up at 4:14 AM. I had to rush on writing my visual aids since I was not able to finish it up the other night, thanks to Samson and his son and his troops in The Wild (really nice day, really nice day da dan da da).
Anyway, I was able to arrive in school this morning at about 6:43 and I immediately turned on my radio for a daily dose of DYBS’ Shepherd’s Voice (Good Times with Mo? Can’t, my Christian needs come first eh.)
Then, before I knew it, I had to attend the flag raising ceremony and make sure that my advisory Class’ assignment is taken cared off before the first period bell rang.
Then, the rest is everyday life for a teacher like me. An English 2 class from 7:30 to 8:30, another English 2 class from 8:30 to 9:30, break from 9:30 to 9:40, vacant period (for checking, recording and/or resting ) at 9:40 to 10:40, an English 3 class at 10:40 to 11:40, lunch break at 11:40 to 12:40, another vacant (which I usually spend sleeping and/or listening to DYBS’ Day by Day and World News and Classical Guitar Hour) at 12:40 to 1:40, an English 3 class at 1:40 to 2:40 and an English 2 class at 2:40 to 3:40.
After that, I can go home if I dared to, or I have to wait for five PM for my thrice monthly meetings with the Debate Society (of which I am one of the advisers). We usually have one Council Meeting, and 2 regular meetings.
Then, sometime after six, I would go back to the office, type in a page of my novel or two, and go home. Or, I would go to my favorite internet café and download some songs, or just browse the net for whatever information, or I would go to my favorite barbecue-han and buy two pieces of baboy (yum,yum). Or maybe, I’d just go home and wala lang.
I and My God
I have been asking myself why I kept on teaching here in school or why I became a teacher in th first place.
I don’t know. I am one of those people who fell into teaching and just fell in love with it. But, teaching is an unglamorous job. You don’t exactly have a very uplifting lifestyle and your salary is just not enough.
Aside from that, you get harangued by so much trouble. At the end of the day, you tend to ask yourself, damn it, was it all worth it?
Everyday, I always battle the tiredness I always feel. You just have a lot to do and you just do not have enough time to do them.
I wanted to become a good teacher this year. So, I made a lot of effort to come in early, to never be absent (I did last Friday for one whole day and last month for a half-day), and to always come prepared.
I have an advisory class and I was told that I have the most amazing, and bizarre collection of students in the second year council. Aside from that, we were consigned to a non-room room. I mean, we are occupying the upper floor of the abandoned school grandstand, which is veranda style and is open on all sides. It is also on the second floor which really makes me nervous since my kids are so hyperactive. I had to tell them that whoever is caught sitting on the veranda (whatever they are called) will be fined 100 so as to avoid accidents.
I am also one of the two advisers of the school Debate Society and as of this moment, I am in a debate about my next course of action. The club is not funded by the school and exists by virtue of the tenacity of the members and their willingness to keep it running. They have come up with all sorts of fund raising campaigns from delivering love mails and hate notes as well as downloading songs, printing out lyrics, CD burning and picking up garbage for recycling.
This year though, I am teaching English 2 and 3. I tried to incorporate an in depth study of literature so as to make the students conscious of the worlds around them.
Despite everything that I have done, I have felt so damned tired and just lazy. When July came in, I felt tired, drained, burned out.
I tried to raise my mood by playing out dreams, going through all my books and buying softdrinks (I could no longer fit into my uniforms because of the food intake).
Then, just this, morning, when I was too weary, caught unprepared and seriously contemplating running home; I bent my head and prayed.
I offered God my day, my teaching and asked only for Him to make me an instrument of making the kids believe in Him, or at least, lead the kids to Him.
I still do not know what to do with myself and God and my profession but, I am taking it one thing at a time.
I am a weak person but I am asking God to make use of me and everything that I am to help the children see the light. To become his instrument in molding the youth.
I don’t know. I am one of those people who fell into teaching and just fell in love with it. But, teaching is an unglamorous job. You don’t exactly have a very uplifting lifestyle and your salary is just not enough.
Aside from that, you get harangued by so much trouble. At the end of the day, you tend to ask yourself, damn it, was it all worth it?
Everyday, I always battle the tiredness I always feel. You just have a lot to do and you just do not have enough time to do them.
I wanted to become a good teacher this year. So, I made a lot of effort to come in early, to never be absent (I did last Friday for one whole day and last month for a half-day), and to always come prepared.
I have an advisory class and I was told that I have the most amazing, and bizarre collection of students in the second year council. Aside from that, we were consigned to a non-room room. I mean, we are occupying the upper floor of the abandoned school grandstand, which is veranda style and is open on all sides. It is also on the second floor which really makes me nervous since my kids are so hyperactive. I had to tell them that whoever is caught sitting on the veranda (whatever they are called) will be fined 100 so as to avoid accidents.
I am also one of the two advisers of the school Debate Society and as of this moment, I am in a debate about my next course of action. The club is not funded by the school and exists by virtue of the tenacity of the members and their willingness to keep it running. They have come up with all sorts of fund raising campaigns from delivering love mails and hate notes as well as downloading songs, printing out lyrics, CD burning and picking up garbage for recycling.
This year though, I am teaching English 2 and 3. I tried to incorporate an in depth study of literature so as to make the students conscious of the worlds around them.
Despite everything that I have done, I have felt so damned tired and just lazy. When July came in, I felt tired, drained, burned out.
I tried to raise my mood by playing out dreams, going through all my books and buying softdrinks (I could no longer fit into my uniforms because of the food intake).
Then, just this, morning, when I was too weary, caught unprepared and seriously contemplating running home; I bent my head and prayed.
I offered God my day, my teaching and asked only for Him to make me an instrument of making the kids believe in Him, or at least, lead the kids to Him.
I still do not know what to do with myself and God and my profession but, I am taking it one thing at a time.
I am a weak person but I am asking God to make use of me and everything that I am to help the children see the light. To become his instrument in molding the youth.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Theme Songs
Yeah, I know. Sounds corny huh? I am still a true softee at heart. You see, I do have my list of songs that can symbolize ones existence (no matter how sorry that existence is).
Here are some of the songs I can relate with when it comes to certain aspects of my life.
1. Save You by Simple Plan – this song describes how I feel towards students of the public high school where I am currently employed. I also feel the same for the youth of this country in general. That is one of the reasons why I feel so passionate about being a teacher (I am aware of the story behind the song but it can also apply to the students who are not as lucky as others)
2. Leave out all the Rest by Linkin Park – this is my song for the school administration of my Alma Mater and for all the students I have taught in the past three years. (I know, the message is confusing but I do feel that way too)
3. Little Wonders by Rob Thomas – This is my theme song, the song I always sing to make me smile and feel happy
4. That Don’t Impress me Much by Shania Twain – that song explains how I feel about celebrity figures like Piolo Pascual, Dingdong Dantes, Richard Gutierez (is that how the last name is spelled?), Brad Pitt ( I love Hugh Grant though) and people like them
5. All the Love in the World by the Corrs – to the man I might marry (or not). I still don’t know him.
6. Love Song for No One by John Mayer – also for the man I might love. If he ever walks by my way of the planet… Still, I am thankful he is not yet here, I am too busy to pay any attention to anything as of this moment
7. Jaane Kyun (A Dostana soundtrack) – To my Indian friend, Daniel. He is a cool guy and he always keeps the chills away.
8. Cyclone (Baby Bash feat. T-Pain) – to a girl who haunted my dreams once and made me fear that I am not a female in the true sense of the word (I dreamt of kissing a girl when I was in high school and I kept remembering how my hands fitted on her sexily slim hips)
9. Torn by Natalie Imbruglia – to my unconventional mother and to all my unconventional beliefs. I still love you Nay, but that does not make me blind
10. Insomnia by Craig David – To my unfinished clearance
11. Somewhere I Belong by Linkin Park – my reaction about what is happening with my career so far
12. Don’t Stay by Linkin Park – one of my song symbols that I like to play from time to time (meaning, after my last period class every afternoon). This is for my school as well and a little bit for my idiocy
13. Tourniquet by Evanescence – my plea
14. The Greatest Love of All – my battle cry as a teacher
15. Time for me to Fly by Jonas Brothers – a song which I would play out loud five years from now
16. Underdog by Jonas Brothers – for the little girl I left behind in elementary
17. Alone by Celine Dion – for the man who is yet to come
18. Can’t Cry Hard Enough – for Spielberg, who died last April 20, 2009
19. Way Back into Love – I just love that song
20. I’m Still Here by Johnny Rzeznik – to the school administration … and sometimes, to God
Does that line up of songs tell something about the inner workings of my mind right now?
If it does, it goes to show that you can never truly know a person.
Here are some of the songs I can relate with when it comes to certain aspects of my life.
1. Save You by Simple Plan – this song describes how I feel towards students of the public high school where I am currently employed. I also feel the same for the youth of this country in general. That is one of the reasons why I feel so passionate about being a teacher (I am aware of the story behind the song but it can also apply to the students who are not as lucky as others)
2. Leave out all the Rest by Linkin Park – this is my song for the school administration of my Alma Mater and for all the students I have taught in the past three years. (I know, the message is confusing but I do feel that way too)
3. Little Wonders by Rob Thomas – This is my theme song, the song I always sing to make me smile and feel happy
4. That Don’t Impress me Much by Shania Twain – that song explains how I feel about celebrity figures like Piolo Pascual, Dingdong Dantes, Richard Gutierez (is that how the last name is spelled?), Brad Pitt ( I love Hugh Grant though) and people like them
5. All the Love in the World by the Corrs – to the man I might marry (or not). I still don’t know him.
6. Love Song for No One by John Mayer – also for the man I might love. If he ever walks by my way of the planet… Still, I am thankful he is not yet here, I am too busy to pay any attention to anything as of this moment
7. Jaane Kyun (A Dostana soundtrack) – To my Indian friend, Daniel. He is a cool guy and he always keeps the chills away.
8. Cyclone (Baby Bash feat. T-Pain) – to a girl who haunted my dreams once and made me fear that I am not a female in the true sense of the word (I dreamt of kissing a girl when I was in high school and I kept remembering how my hands fitted on her sexily slim hips)
9. Torn by Natalie Imbruglia – to my unconventional mother and to all my unconventional beliefs. I still love you Nay, but that does not make me blind
10. Insomnia by Craig David – To my unfinished clearance
11. Somewhere I Belong by Linkin Park – my reaction about what is happening with my career so far
12. Don’t Stay by Linkin Park – one of my song symbols that I like to play from time to time (meaning, after my last period class every afternoon). This is for my school as well and a little bit for my idiocy
13. Tourniquet by Evanescence – my plea
14. The Greatest Love of All – my battle cry as a teacher
15. Time for me to Fly by Jonas Brothers – a song which I would play out loud five years from now
16. Underdog by Jonas Brothers – for the little girl I left behind in elementary
17. Alone by Celine Dion – for the man who is yet to come
18. Can’t Cry Hard Enough – for Spielberg, who died last April 20, 2009
19. Way Back into Love – I just love that song
20. I’m Still Here by Johnny Rzeznik – to the school administration … and sometimes, to God
Does that line up of songs tell something about the inner workings of my mind right now?
If it does, it goes to show that you can never truly know a person.
DAM MA I
Now Playing: Somewhere I Belong by Linkin Park
I am mad. I feel absolutely out of place in this world I have so insistently tried to penetrate for three years now.
I feel like I am an alien body that is trying to co-exist with humans, or perhaps a vampire living on the fringe of human existence.
I want to scream out. I want to… I don’t know.
Nobody can hurt me without my consent. I wonder why I am allowing the monsters of this impenetrable kingdom to actually hurt me.
Maybe because I wanted to come out as a damsel in distress or the wronged party in this mad dash to nothingness.
You are absolutely right. An unexpected meeting has brought this reaction. Meetings with the principal always make me feel like this. As if all the rock songs I have is never enough to expel the demon raging inside me.
Right now, it is licking me dry with flames of ice. I feel cold inside. I feel numbed. I am feeling so much pain that I have frozen within, enough to freeze the tears that would threaten to fall.
It is all my fault anyway. Who told me to stay here and wait on God knows who or what to take pity on me and make my existence legal and valid.
I said a resounding no to another offer I just received. Damme. But, isn’t it just dandy? I do not want to regret the decisions I made.
But, to reiterate what I said a few weeks ago, I regretted the decision that prompted me to stick to my guns and run after an ideal that refused to be achieved.
They say that when the door closes, a window of opportunity opens. The door to this institution I am in right now is eternally locked and the key has been swallowed by a fire-breathing dragon.
A window opened a year ago and I am so glad I caught it just in time. That window actually saved me from being imprisoned inside the castle of destruction and desolation. Instead, it has allowed me a safe haven to see and be part of the castle practices but never be tied to it.
Like a traveling bard, I am here inside the castle, only for a while. A really short while… then, once I see another window pop open, I am jumping out…never to return again.
I’ll never walk through that door. Not even if the dragon opens it for me with an engaging grin on his face.
No. Opportunity seldom knocks twice (it’s the opportunist who does that). The next time my bard duties are through, I am leaving the castle.
I am mad. I feel absolutely out of place in this world I have so insistently tried to penetrate for three years now.
I feel like I am an alien body that is trying to co-exist with humans, or perhaps a vampire living on the fringe of human existence.
I want to scream out. I want to… I don’t know.
Nobody can hurt me without my consent. I wonder why I am allowing the monsters of this impenetrable kingdom to actually hurt me.
Maybe because I wanted to come out as a damsel in distress or the wronged party in this mad dash to nothingness.
You are absolutely right. An unexpected meeting has brought this reaction. Meetings with the principal always make me feel like this. As if all the rock songs I have is never enough to expel the demon raging inside me.
Right now, it is licking me dry with flames of ice. I feel cold inside. I feel numbed. I am feeling so much pain that I have frozen within, enough to freeze the tears that would threaten to fall.
It is all my fault anyway. Who told me to stay here and wait on God knows who or what to take pity on me and make my existence legal and valid.
I said a resounding no to another offer I just received. Damme. But, isn’t it just dandy? I do not want to regret the decisions I made.
But, to reiterate what I said a few weeks ago, I regretted the decision that prompted me to stick to my guns and run after an ideal that refused to be achieved.
They say that when the door closes, a window of opportunity opens. The door to this institution I am in right now is eternally locked and the key has been swallowed by a fire-breathing dragon.
A window opened a year ago and I am so glad I caught it just in time. That window actually saved me from being imprisoned inside the castle of destruction and desolation. Instead, it has allowed me a safe haven to see and be part of the castle practices but never be tied to it.
Like a traveling bard, I am here inside the castle, only for a while. A really short while… then, once I see another window pop open, I am jumping out…never to return again.
I’ll never walk through that door. Not even if the dragon opens it for me with an engaging grin on his face.
No. Opportunity seldom knocks twice (it’s the opportunist who does that). The next time my bard duties are through, I am leaving the castle.
Twilight, The Book this Time
Don’t judge a book by its movie. I know I heard that tagline somewhere, still, I had not expected it to be so true about Twilight.
I don’t go to movies and neither do I buy really expensive books. I go to bargain stores and just buy books I could enjoy without getting worried about the price or its significance to the human system of beliefs. I have enough of that in my weekly literature classes anyway.
But, I always wanted to own a Twilight book. I just never got the chance. The last time I went to National Bookstore with a months pay in my wallet, I was not able to find a single copy of any of the series.
I kept on hunting NBS. I prowled for an Anne rice book, the one which signified her sudden change of faith. I left NBS disappointed so I binged on my usual bargain hunt and bought a load of pulp novels.
Recently, one student debater in our club brought her Twilight book which she said was actually the last copy on the shelf when she chanced on it at National Bookstore. She said she’ll rent it out to pay for her Debating Club shirt.
I asked her how much she’d rent it out. She said P50.00. We had a deal, and I took home her book a week after and spent my Independence day and weekend reading it.
I loved the wickedly flirtatious and sensual Edward in this book. He was so different from the Edward that Pattinson projected in the movie. The only character that actually fitted my expectation was the pixie-like Alice.
And Bella in the movie is quite confusing and more obstinate than the book Bella. Well, she’s no damsel in distress, just a silly, physically uncoordinated teener wrapped around the spell of a magnificently dazzling vampire.
Meyer’s explanations about certain vampiric myth are now believable. It made me realize that to a writer, everything is damnably possible. I mean, no one holds any monopoly about vampire lores. And she went really simple with her explanations which removed the conflict of a hero that could be destroyed. (However, I am not sure if literary critics approved of that, anyway, who cares about the stuffed shirts.
The sentence structures stumped me though. The book started in a bumpy manner, what with Meyers really strange staccato syntactical patters. Her disjointed and unrelated paragraphing sort of confused me at first.
But, somewhere along the way, things went on smoothly. I am just not sure if she got good with her narratives or I got used to her style…desensitized so to speak.
Nothing can really compare with the complexity of plot and the smoothness of style as well as the sophistication and intricacy of characterization of a J.K. Rowling book though.
But, I adore Meyer’s sentimentalism and really passionately emotional tone. The feeling the book creates on a reader is quite daunting to imagine. The book grips you and plays with your emotionality and internal passions, not the logical and highly intellectual aspect of a reader.
It was a good read. I loved Edward and Bella and I adore the almost tingly feeling it gives me everytime the stupid lamb and the sad, masochistic lion comes in contact.
Oh well, it can be a good mindless entertainment for a night of pure emotionalism. And Pattinson can work on those wicked grins and intense stares so that he can really “dazzle” on screen.
But, I guess he had the intense- Edward part correct when he asked Bella “What exactly did you see?” as he challenged her about what she claimed to be his sudden appearance to save her from Tyler’s car. He was unforgettable in that.
And the wickedly playful vampire came out to play when he jumped on Bella’s truck and invited her to meet his family. He was also there when he made all those facial contortions as he introduced Bella to his family.
The sensual vampire was not in that kiss. Pattinson looked too pained there, but the grimace did not convey the longing. It makes one think that he has eaten something really bitter. His stares look more menacing than sensuous.
The sensual vampire was there in the end, at the prom, when they were dancing. At least, he came out. Pattinson had to smolder with sensuality and do away with too much grimacing.
I don’t go to movies and neither do I buy really expensive books. I go to bargain stores and just buy books I could enjoy without getting worried about the price or its significance to the human system of beliefs. I have enough of that in my weekly literature classes anyway.
But, I always wanted to own a Twilight book. I just never got the chance. The last time I went to National Bookstore with a months pay in my wallet, I was not able to find a single copy of any of the series.
I kept on hunting NBS. I prowled for an Anne rice book, the one which signified her sudden change of faith. I left NBS disappointed so I binged on my usual bargain hunt and bought a load of pulp novels.
Recently, one student debater in our club brought her Twilight book which she said was actually the last copy on the shelf when she chanced on it at National Bookstore. She said she’ll rent it out to pay for her Debating Club shirt.
I asked her how much she’d rent it out. She said P50.00. We had a deal, and I took home her book a week after and spent my Independence day and weekend reading it.
I loved the wickedly flirtatious and sensual Edward in this book. He was so different from the Edward that Pattinson projected in the movie. The only character that actually fitted my expectation was the pixie-like Alice.
And Bella in the movie is quite confusing and more obstinate than the book Bella. Well, she’s no damsel in distress, just a silly, physically uncoordinated teener wrapped around the spell of a magnificently dazzling vampire.
Meyer’s explanations about certain vampiric myth are now believable. It made me realize that to a writer, everything is damnably possible. I mean, no one holds any monopoly about vampire lores. And she went really simple with her explanations which removed the conflict of a hero that could be destroyed. (However, I am not sure if literary critics approved of that, anyway, who cares about the stuffed shirts.
The sentence structures stumped me though. The book started in a bumpy manner, what with Meyers really strange staccato syntactical patters. Her disjointed and unrelated paragraphing sort of confused me at first.
But, somewhere along the way, things went on smoothly. I am just not sure if she got good with her narratives or I got used to her style…desensitized so to speak.
Nothing can really compare with the complexity of plot and the smoothness of style as well as the sophistication and intricacy of characterization of a J.K. Rowling book though.
But, I adore Meyer’s sentimentalism and really passionately emotional tone. The feeling the book creates on a reader is quite daunting to imagine. The book grips you and plays with your emotionality and internal passions, not the logical and highly intellectual aspect of a reader.
It was a good read. I loved Edward and Bella and I adore the almost tingly feeling it gives me everytime the stupid lamb and the sad, masochistic lion comes in contact.
Oh well, it can be a good mindless entertainment for a night of pure emotionalism. And Pattinson can work on those wicked grins and intense stares so that he can really “dazzle” on screen.
But, I guess he had the intense- Edward part correct when he asked Bella “What exactly did you see?” as he challenged her about what she claimed to be his sudden appearance to save her from Tyler’s car. He was unforgettable in that.
And the wickedly playful vampire came out to play when he jumped on Bella’s truck and invited her to meet his family. He was also there when he made all those facial contortions as he introduced Bella to his family.
The sensual vampire was not in that kiss. Pattinson looked too pained there, but the grimace did not convey the longing. It makes one think that he has eaten something really bitter. His stares look more menacing than sensuous.
The sensual vampire was there in the end, at the prom, when they were dancing. At least, he came out. Pattinson had to smolder with sensuality and do away with too much grimacing.
The Truth About Heaven
My mother used to tell me that if I ever got married, my husband would probably leave me.
Well, she’s probably right.
I was often accused as a cold fish ever since I have grown up and learned how to block pain and hurt from consuming.
Old friends used to think I never really cared about anyone. Even my family has remarked about the certain distance I placed between myself and the rest of the world.
I even heard someone ask one of my friends kun ano ako nga klase ka amiga because I spent most of my time away from my closest friends.
I heard that too often that I have started to believe them.
Until tonight that is.
What happened tonight? I stepped on a growing gecko(not sure of the term, basta, it’s a big baby lizard with a large head and a small body). I felt the odd squishy thing under my slippers and realized it was not just an ordinary ribbon or cloth but something live.
I made the mistake of looking down and checking it and looking straight through its eyes. Oh God. The eyes have bulged and it looks as if it was crying in pain.
I felt bad, guilty and I kept saying sorry. I did not mean it at all.
I realized that I can actually feel. I strongly empathized with creatures that are weaker than myself. That is why I avoid them as often as possible.
Pain suffered by others (especially animals) affects me deeply. I don’t know why really. I see the pain-filled faces and I think about the lives they led before and the lives they would lead after if they survived.
Another example is the death of my dog. I actually felt unhappy of the experiences he would not have now that he has died. He never learned how to lick a hand properly and he does not know how to piss as a male dog should. He also has not spend a lot of time outdoors because we were very protective of him.
One afternoon, on my way home and while riding a jeep, I passed by a wriggling form of a very small brown puppy by the roadside. I thought it was playing by itself, enjoying whatever piece of string is attached on its claws. Then, I realized that the dog has actually been hit by a car and was writhing in pain.
I was unable to hold back a gasp and all the way home, while on the verge of tears, I kept thinking about the little dog.
Nobody knows this about me but I care too deeply. Far too deeply than any ordinary human is capable of handling. That is why I have to put a lid on my emotions. Not because I am afraid of getting hurt but because I am afraid of what those feelings can do to others and to myself.
I was once a very possessive friend, a very jealous daughter and sister and a very keen person. When I have friends, I longed to possess them wholly and totally. I want them with me all the time.
Now, people often find me more alone than with someone. Now, I no longer know how it feels to be with anybody.
I am uncomfortable in the presence of persons who expect me to smile, laugh and talk with them all the time.
I have become the very reverse of what I once was before.
I once told a former teacher that one of the reasons why I fear any relationship with the opposite sex is that my kind of love would destroy a weaker man. I am not exactly a strong person.
In fact, some may term me weak. Unfortunately, I have abnormally strong passions. I just don’t reveal them.
Well, she’s probably right.
I was often accused as a cold fish ever since I have grown up and learned how to block pain and hurt from consuming.
Old friends used to think I never really cared about anyone. Even my family has remarked about the certain distance I placed between myself and the rest of the world.
I even heard someone ask one of my friends kun ano ako nga klase ka amiga because I spent most of my time away from my closest friends.
I heard that too often that I have started to believe them.
Until tonight that is.
What happened tonight? I stepped on a growing gecko(not sure of the term, basta, it’s a big baby lizard with a large head and a small body). I felt the odd squishy thing under my slippers and realized it was not just an ordinary ribbon or cloth but something live.
I made the mistake of looking down and checking it and looking straight through its eyes. Oh God. The eyes have bulged and it looks as if it was crying in pain.
I felt bad, guilty and I kept saying sorry. I did not mean it at all.
I realized that I can actually feel. I strongly empathized with creatures that are weaker than myself. That is why I avoid them as often as possible.
Pain suffered by others (especially animals) affects me deeply. I don’t know why really. I see the pain-filled faces and I think about the lives they led before and the lives they would lead after if they survived.
Another example is the death of my dog. I actually felt unhappy of the experiences he would not have now that he has died. He never learned how to lick a hand properly and he does not know how to piss as a male dog should. He also has not spend a lot of time outdoors because we were very protective of him.
One afternoon, on my way home and while riding a jeep, I passed by a wriggling form of a very small brown puppy by the roadside. I thought it was playing by itself, enjoying whatever piece of string is attached on its claws. Then, I realized that the dog has actually been hit by a car and was writhing in pain.
I was unable to hold back a gasp and all the way home, while on the verge of tears, I kept thinking about the little dog.
Nobody knows this about me but I care too deeply. Far too deeply than any ordinary human is capable of handling. That is why I have to put a lid on my emotions. Not because I am afraid of getting hurt but because I am afraid of what those feelings can do to others and to myself.
I was once a very possessive friend, a very jealous daughter and sister and a very keen person. When I have friends, I longed to possess them wholly and totally. I want them with me all the time.
Now, people often find me more alone than with someone. Now, I no longer know how it feels to be with anybody.
I am uncomfortable in the presence of persons who expect me to smile, laugh and talk with them all the time.
I have become the very reverse of what I once was before.
I once told a former teacher that one of the reasons why I fear any relationship with the opposite sex is that my kind of love would destroy a weaker man. I am not exactly a strong person.
In fact, some may term me weak. Unfortunately, I have abnormally strong passions. I just don’t reveal them.
Just What I Thought
Set: June 29, 2009, 12:44 PM at an obscure office
Then Playing: How Do You Sleep by Mcwhatever
I once asked my college classmates about what they think regarding teachers movement.
I was surprised with Adel’s (to those who do not know her, Adel is my mentor and my guide…hehe, ) unexpected response.
‘Teachers movement man… you mean may organization kamo?’
Yeah. I guess I forgot. A movement refers to an uprising or an organization of entities that tries to push for a movement for the progress/development of something.
Right. Don’t know why that slipped my mind.
But, in this particular instance, Teacher\s movement refers to the forcible motion or movement of teachers ( literal meaning). In short, teachers in our school had to move from one place to another to have their classes. The students are the ones who are supposed to remain stationary at one place so that cutting classes and other guidance problems (by guidance, I mean the office of Guidance and Counseling people who take charge of discipline cases) will be avoided.
Teachers movement will start July 1, 2009.
What do I think about this phenomena? Let’s go carry out TV sets and our aparador of tricks to the next classroom, teachers!!!
Seriously though, I believe the concept is good. (Damme, every concept is good naman, the problem comes when we have to apply these concepts.) It would really assure a controlled environment inside the campus.
Our school is a big one and almost everyday, the Office of Students Discipline had to hear several cases. (The fact that it has a Students Discipline Office should warn one that it has a lot of discipline problems). Fights, gang wars and others are no longer a novelty here; they have become as common as everything else is.
Well, I don’t know if I still want to blame the kids. You see, we teachers do tend to get stuffy when it comes to rebellious behavior.
Just because we earned a degree and we have added a decade to our ages does not mean we know everything else.
This generation of students and kids are the product of an early generation. Science and philosophy always insists that something comes from something. Nothing comes out of nothing, but, since something came out afterward to strike us as a strange phenomenon, it must have been brought about by something before it.
Yes, I am still in my early 20’s and I have not yet propagated the world with my evil progeny and I have yet to spread my bad teachings to one and all. My generation is that generation which happened to be caught in the middle of the generation battle.
I still belong to the generation that can still honestly blame their elders for the present. However, I am very much aware that a time will come when younger teachers like I am now, will also blame my generation for the need to have a teachers movement to solve discipline problems that have gone beyond normal.
I am aware that thirty percent of my former classmates have already started their gene generation projects (my genes will get lost in the battle for longevity I’m afraid). The remaining percentage are either into the gold rush themselves or are just wondering what the heck are they waiting for (while I hunched before the keyboard plotting and re-plotting ways to save mankind).
What I really mean is, are we addressing the real problem here? Or maybe we are setting ourselves up for bigger problems?
The answer matters a lot because what we have here is not an experiment with guinea pigs. We are trying to control a bunch of live, feeling human creatures who will one day take charge of this world.
Whatever, I am only here at this school for a five-year experimental dabbling with the system. I have always hated the system. I hated it more now than I ever did before.
But, my college professor and publication adviser was right. There are three ways to deal with a rotten system: (1) you leave, (2) you blend in, show your part of it and do your own thing anyway, or (3) you join them. Either way, you will never beat them anyway.
What am I doing? Just testing which course would be best. I tried the second last year and I realized I only muddled my vision. I still don’t have plans to jump out of the ship (maybe five years from today) but neither do I have plans of joining them.
Grad schools keeping me sane at least.
Then Playing: How Do You Sleep by Mcwhatever
I once asked my college classmates about what they think regarding teachers movement.
I was surprised with Adel’s (to those who do not know her, Adel is my mentor and my guide…hehe, ) unexpected response.
‘Teachers movement man… you mean may organization kamo?’
Yeah. I guess I forgot. A movement refers to an uprising or an organization of entities that tries to push for a movement for the progress/development of something.
Right. Don’t know why that slipped my mind.
But, in this particular instance, Teacher\s movement refers to the forcible motion or movement of teachers ( literal meaning). In short, teachers in our school had to move from one place to another to have their classes. The students are the ones who are supposed to remain stationary at one place so that cutting classes and other guidance problems (by guidance, I mean the office of Guidance and Counseling people who take charge of discipline cases) will be avoided.
Teachers movement will start July 1, 2009.
What do I think about this phenomena? Let’s go carry out TV sets and our aparador of tricks to the next classroom, teachers!!!
Seriously though, I believe the concept is good. (Damme, every concept is good naman, the problem comes when we have to apply these concepts.) It would really assure a controlled environment inside the campus.
Our school is a big one and almost everyday, the Office of Students Discipline had to hear several cases. (The fact that it has a Students Discipline Office should warn one that it has a lot of discipline problems). Fights, gang wars and others are no longer a novelty here; they have become as common as everything else is.
Well, I don’t know if I still want to blame the kids. You see, we teachers do tend to get stuffy when it comes to rebellious behavior.
Just because we earned a degree and we have added a decade to our ages does not mean we know everything else.
This generation of students and kids are the product of an early generation. Science and philosophy always insists that something comes from something. Nothing comes out of nothing, but, since something came out afterward to strike us as a strange phenomenon, it must have been brought about by something before it.
Yes, I am still in my early 20’s and I have not yet propagated the world with my evil progeny and I have yet to spread my bad teachings to one and all. My generation is that generation which happened to be caught in the middle of the generation battle.
I still belong to the generation that can still honestly blame their elders for the present. However, I am very much aware that a time will come when younger teachers like I am now, will also blame my generation for the need to have a teachers movement to solve discipline problems that have gone beyond normal.
I am aware that thirty percent of my former classmates have already started their gene generation projects (my genes will get lost in the battle for longevity I’m afraid). The remaining percentage are either into the gold rush themselves or are just wondering what the heck are they waiting for (while I hunched before the keyboard plotting and re-plotting ways to save mankind).
What I really mean is, are we addressing the real problem here? Or maybe we are setting ourselves up for bigger problems?
The answer matters a lot because what we have here is not an experiment with guinea pigs. We are trying to control a bunch of live, feeling human creatures who will one day take charge of this world.
Whatever, I am only here at this school for a five-year experimental dabbling with the system. I have always hated the system. I hated it more now than I ever did before.
But, my college professor and publication adviser was right. There are three ways to deal with a rotten system: (1) you leave, (2) you blend in, show your part of it and do your own thing anyway, or (3) you join them. Either way, you will never beat them anyway.
What am I doing? Just testing which course would be best. I tried the second last year and I realized I only muddled my vision. I still don’t have plans to jump out of the ship (maybe five years from today) but neither do I have plans of joining them.
Grad schools keeping me sane at least.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Here I Go Again
I am trying to rush my sisters project in her tourism class and I am trying to make up make-believe facts and figures about unheard of foreign and domestic tourist destinations.
Whew!
I swear never to use my students in filling up my empty portfolio of examples and picture files for my classes.
Damn. I sort of hate teachers who do that.
Whew!
I swear never to use my students in filling up my empty portfolio of examples and picture files for my classes.
Damn. I sort of hate teachers who do that.
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