Coaching the Coach

My apologies to Dyna, John PAul and Shary.

These three SSC kids were the winners of last years school level newscasting competitions and they were supposed to represent the school iin a local newscasting competition at SM City Iloilo.

MOst unfortunately, there was a mix up of information due to the coach's (specifically me) irresponsibility.

Because of that, a fellow coach and I have decided to cancel the participation and I, in my state, forgot to inform the students. I told myself since no one came when I called for practice, then, they may not be interested.

It was a foolish and embarassing mistake.

Well, I meant no harm guys. I am afraid I got totally hooked in a new world I have been creating. Add the tension of graduate school as well as the new demands of our school and I am one confused mix of nothing.

I blame no one but myself. I know I should have been more responsible, more concerned about what is happening.

Guys, I am very sorry. I hope this reaches you, wherever you are.

I know what I did is not a good sign. I am already seriously considering turning over the advisory responsibility of the club to someone who is less forgetful than I am but I also do not want to acknowledge that I have allowed this weakness to defeat me.

Guys, debaters, I need your help. I cannot make our club a successful one without your help.

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.

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.

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.

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.

A Mission

I have been thinking about the things I have been doing as a teacher.

I came to the point of feeling a certain sort of dissatisfaction about how I did my job and how I turned out to be in the end.

I guess I was just trying too hard. I have set too high a standard for me to reach and I ended up feelings unhappy.

No one can change the world in just a year, yes. I cannot mould a person into becoming something that I want him to be and I have been doing just that for almost two years of my teaching career.

And if a student does not fit the mold, I immediately reject him.

I never realized that my duty as a teacher is not to change a person into a better one. He has to do that for himself and I can only help him make choices.

Amo lang daa gali ya role ko as a teacher.:To show my students that they have options in life. Making the decision is their job, not mine.

I guess I feel better now that I understand the extent of my mission.

I guess the fact that one of the most brilliant students I handled this year reportedly got pregnant depressed me. My God, she is only what, 13 years old?

Was I not able to teach her the importance of safe sex (well, we have not taken that up in our lit class but I wish I did). Or at least, did I not somehow discuss the necessity of keeping oneself chaste in this day and age or avoiding entanglements at their age?

I feel bad because I was not able to do something. She is a very intelligent girl and has so much potential.

Two of her friends led her astray I guess and I felt I should have warned her beforehand.

But then, I realized that is beyond me. I am only their teacher in English I and I am not in contact with her for such a long time.

I still feel bad though. I should have been more sensitive, more discerning. I should have kept a careful tab on her.

I was not able to do much for this child. I could have done better. I just do not know what that better is.

With this experience, I learned that as a teacher, I should not be selfish. I should nopt allow myself to wallow in self-doubt and self-pity and should, instead, focus my attention on these young folks who needs them.

Because to be really honest, in the middle of the school-year, I have been happily wallowing in the depths of self-pity and despair that I was not able to open my senses to the needs of my students.

I have been very selfish. I eagerly wanted to pull the hours to the time I could go home and sleep the whole night off.

I now realized that while in school, I should have kept my own problems and worries somewhere else. As a teacher, I am obliged to lead my students. They need my guidance.

And when my duty is done, I could then turn to God and let Him lead me and guide me. Because He is my teacher.

Strange Requirements

It is clearance week at last. A time, one really childish and spiteful teacher exclaimed, to get even.

Students who used to terrorize teachers or at least make teacher’s life difficult will now have their comeuppance.

I guess that is sort of , hehe, frightening. Because teachers sort of controls the strings totally.

Anyway, I forgot all about clearance hassles in highschool because when I went to college, our clearances were left to the hands of our chairperson who slaved over it one whole week before the final examinations.

Going back to my old alma mater surprised me about how clearance week has become a sort of doomsweek for the students.

I guess I contributed my own share of trouble this year by requiring them to:
1. submit their students profile
2. submit their notebooks (complete)
3. return their books
4. pay their back accounts

But, I think mine is minor compared to what is usually practiced.

Here are some of the strange requirements that teachers usually require students for their clearances to be signed:

compost/humus
- even non TLE (Technology and Livelihood Ed) classes requires these. I know of some Filipino, science and math teachers who have asked for these
Rocks (or igang)
brooms
P5
- I don’t know what these were for. I just heard one social studies teacher requiring these.
plants (daang buhi guid)
plastic cover
manila paper
file case
basketball ball/volleyball ball (ha?) for those who have no PE books
trowels

atbp.
Yes, definitely atbp.

Teachers have the freedom to request whatever they want from students at this point in time. No one would say no. Kahadluk lang nila.

Students no longer says much at this point as long as mapirmahan lang ang clearances nila.

Teachers, as years pass by, get more creative. During my highschool heydays, the worst things that a teacher would ask you to bring are a compilation of your projects for the school year (that was in our social studies class).

I know of one former classmate who asked his students to buy DVD/CD tapes of several films he required.

One of the teachers of my sisters once asked them to contribute several pesoses for a tape and a player.

Whew.

Right now, I am thinking about a nice requirement from my students in the years to come.

How about…a prospective boyfriend? Or a house and lot maybe?or why not a new cellphone? Or an mp3 player (mp ano dun ya uso subong man?)

What do you think? Feel free to add your requests. Sky’s the limit.

Why am I doing what I am doing

I don’t know. Yeah sure, standard answer.

That is the only coherent thing I can give right now. Well, yes, my mind is figuratively swirling with macabre and frighteningly ghastly thoughts.

But I do know I had to sort this one out.

I am going to embark on a new venture and I know I have to find answers to questions that must be answered before I can say that I can truly move on now.

While riding the bus to Iloilo, I started asking myself certain questions. One question stumped me. I used to know the answer to that question. Way back in college, I can honestly give an answer which no one can understand except me. But that was okay since only my opinion counts in this particular matter.

Who am I?

My answer? I am Me.

Simple.

But that was before. Before I became a confused secondary school teacher in a public school.

Back then, I honestly knew who I was. I know the things I want, the things I stood for. I know what I like and what I hate. I also know what I want to do with myself and my life later on.

I know I did not care what others think about me. I know I did not need to explain myself to anybody. I was aware that I was accountable to God for all my actions. I know I like reading and being a lone and I know I wanted to become one of the LET topnotchers of my time.

Now, however, my career, my dreams, my ambitions and the expectations of others about me are constantly clashing against each other making me very confused about a lot of things.

Who am I?

My answer now: I don’t know. I no longer know what I want, what I don’t want. Most of all., I no longer know any of ideals or principles that I should stand up for.

College life was very simple. I have simple ideals.

Never cheat.
Always listen.
Treat every situation as an opportunity for learning.
Never talk uselessly.
Never explain yourself.

Simple matters that I took to heart even until graduation.

Now, however, things are a whole lot more complicated that I first expected them to be.

When Adel and I talked the last time we met (which was a week ago), she told me that she left her job because she wanted to keep her principles.

She wanted to hold on to it and to keep it safe from worldly corruption.

I thought, that is nice. I would want that too.

But the thought made me pause.

Why?

I no longer know what are the principles and ideals that I hold dear to my heart. Maybe, I no longer have them.

Where my HEART is (NT)

I am currently working on a Debating Club handout on Fallacies that I might give to the members.

However, something has been mentally bugging me lately interfering with my already very limited concentration on the job at hand.

You see, this is about the school Debating Club.

D’Club, as I fondly call this org, is a duly recognized but un funded school club. When I entered this school just last school year, the Club was already swinging high with two English teachers as its advisers.

This year, our head teacher assigned me as Co-adviser of the club along with one of the former two advisers.

The club has 24 members who are students of the school. Most of them are from the Special Science Class (since they are the ones brave enough to join in the screening). Most of the senior members are from the star section and all of them are busy with school matters.

When I started out as co-adviser, I was so excited. I wanted to do all things at once. I wanted a debate seminar, a series of tournaments followed by a final tournament.

Now, I have grown really disappointed over these matters.

Why?

I find it hard asking the students to come for meetings and conferences. Their usual reaction is meeting duman.

They never knew how much it hurt not to see the majority of them attend meetings I painfully set up and organize.

I know they are busy but I am also very busy. I have ALS classes every Saturday, I have to go to Agdahon everyday for my morning sessions. I also have to prepare lesson plans, class records… and not just my own… I also have to do that of Nanay since she is too busy to do them herself.

Aside from that, just like all normal human beings, I also have conflicts with money (I am not yet financially stable and as the days and months passed, asking Nanay for money gets more difficult and embarrassing)., with myself and with people around me.

One time, I had to spend my last money on the fare back to school just to attend a meeting wherein nobody, not even a soul, showed up. I walked home feeling sick, more troubled and depressed than ever and sad. Sad because they (the club members) do not value the club in the same way that I did.

By the last week of November last year, I have grown resentful and I started thinking that I do not want to have anything to do with the club anymore. I did not care about it.

I tried to revive my enthusiasm by the second week of December. But the January meeting has left me depressed again.

I forced myself to do my part and I keep forcing myself still. There were three or four members who are quite dedicated to what we are doing but most are not as passionate about it.

They are very busy with school work. I try to help them as best as I can but the problem with the budget keeps interfering after all.

I no longer know what to do with myself and with the club. I am just too serious about it but these teeners do not need this kind of pressure. I already feel bad for forcing them to stay later than usual and from keeping them from the things that they would rather do.

Maybe next year, I will just give up the club and focus on my master’s degree and my classes. At least, I would have a valid reason for pressuring to students into their full and total potential.

Guys, I am sorry for making you do things you do not want to do and for forcing Debate into your additional duties list.

(Sad).

A Summit Unreached

The fourth district of this province had an educational summit last December.

Well, yes, as a matter of fact, it did happen last December. And no, I am not trying to unlock skeletons in their nastily locked closets.

I just realized that, as a mentor, I am obliged to report to the public what I honestly thought went wrong when one tries to keep their minds in the middle.

And no, I have no delusions of grandeur (professionally speaking but personally, theres the Prince William fixation).

Anyway, it was the first time that I attended the said summit (and I believe it is also the first time that we had it).

Our Division, and several key officials from the mother division along with another fledgling town attended the said summit.

The beloved representative, stately and really crushable (no, I am not licking boots here, I am just saying that he is as huggable as a teddy bear and as intelligent as doctors come but really, he speaks absolutely well and is quite brilliant), was also around. In fact, it was this representative who made the summit possible.

Back in college, I did hear about Educational Summits beign held in U.S. states. In fact, during my short foray with extra research on Curriculum Development, most of the policies, changes and problems were pinpointed and identified during such a summit.

I have anticipated the summit since I heard of it weeks before the event. I wanted to see how a summit is being held and how it my fellow teachers are going to react or participate in it.

I actually thought we were on the verge of something really big here.

However, I was bound for disappointment.

Why?

Most of those who came were only interested with the raffle draw and the give-aways courtesy of the congressman.

I was shocked. Even my mother, who was a teacher also, had that same thing in mind.

No one wanted to ask questions and raise points during the open forum. The report of the superintendents became a farcical bragging of lead lions offeiring the proud achievements of their pack.. though one of them really should be commended for his/her exemplary performance.

I got home feeling really evil that night. I honestly had impossible expectations for Philippine Education.

I thought we would, at last, be able to share things with fellow mentors from across the province. Share our minds, give our hearts.

There was one bright moment in the entire event though. We had a good speaker.

The Undersecretary of the Department of Education was a visionary who absolutely had us all eating out of her palm.

She is brilliant. In fact, she has become a sort of icon in my view (especially in this area where icons like her come in as often as blue moons).

I want to be like her.

A Teacher's Confession

When I was a student, I never had many friends.

A college acquaintance used to wonder what kind of friend I am because during our spare time, I tend to wander around the campus on my own or I would leave my so called friends for a comfortable hour spent reading in the library.

Another classmate told me I should stop burrying myself in books. I think she was right. The more time I spent with books, the lesser time I spent with people. But, I told myself that it is only through reading that I get to understand hman nature.

However, the more I learned about human nature and the more I understand about man's duality, the less able I am to communicate my thoughts with them-real time.

My sisters told me I had the uncanny ability to scare people away with just a look or a carefully aimed word.

I did not realize how true it was until I woke up one day and realized that I was actually all alone in the crazy world I built for myself.

I had no friends and no one could understand me.

But, when I became a teacher, all that sensitivity was actually awakened. I could not believe the amount of love and care that I actually feel for my students.

It was so different. And now, I realized why that was so.

In our Philosophy of Man class, a classmate asked me how I tell a person I love him or her without saying I love you.

My answer: I want to share my thoughts with you.

hen they asked me why : I said that the best gift I could give to another mortal is to share my love of learning with him or her. To give them a fragment of the knowledge and understanding I worked so hard to acquire over the years. And, in so doing, I uncannily attach myself to the person.

The measure of love I feel for another person is equivalent to the time I spent sharing my thoughts with him or her. It may take me an hour or less but what counts is how much of myself I give at every meeting.

And, I give so much to my students. So much of myself that, after the end of the day I feel fulfilled. As If I have already done my human duty, my task to mankind for the day.

I love my students. I may be undkind to other human beings. I maybe less understanding to other adults around me... but I always love my students.

(Semantic Warning: I have my own meaning for the words:my students...)

Something New

The school year started with an almost inaudible gasps from my old pair of sandals. It said, "Your world, Ms.B, is about to collapse!" (Bright, sandal.)

A day later, my world, indeed, took a nasty turn and collapsed. Without me in it, thankfully.

As a volunteer secondary school teacher in my very own alma mater, I have learned to expect the unexpected.But that was during the first semester in my first year, which was just last year. Now, I have learned not to expect anything. (Stop that thought, Ms.B. It is ugly and very censorious of the d*mn*d system.)

Last year, I handled several loads with double preparation (not much, really.) I was able to intrude into the lives of 770 students (give or take a hundred). I handles three third year classes in the first grading, two second year classes, five fourth year classes and another five third year classes in the last semester.

I stayed for an average of two months with any of these classes. (whew) And everytime I leave our house, I get accosted (that's OA) with some student's unknown faces.

I had to smile everytime an unknown face calls me Ma'am. I promised to myself before that I would never disappoint any student. (Now, I'd rather take that promise back).

This year, however, my load is lighter and easier. I have to handle five first year English classes but pone of those class is held outside the campus.

After my 2:40 class in the main campus, I have to commute to one of the northern (I'm not sure if its northern, daw western,e.Never mind) barangays to teach in a barangay chapel.

The Division has recently opened a high school in that barangay and for its first school year, it has a total of 45 students, with zero buildings and a chapel which the breeze (and the rain) can freely penetrate.

Second day of school and I broke one of the old pair of sandals I owned. Hopefully, the local school board will give me my salary by the end of the month so that I can buy a new pair.

Back of my brain voice: How about the books of your siblings, dear daughter.

Oh, well. I am a teacher. What else can I do?