What the eyes don’t see
“I will never become a teacher!”
I had been telling myself this since I was in 4th year high school when our adviser asked us what course we would like to take in college.
Although my mother was a teacher, she did not want me to become one. She said teaching was difficult, an exhausting profession and not suited to me because I was shy. She did not think I could manage students, especially the mean ones.
The family wanted me to be a nurse or pharmacist, but I did not like either course.
Against their wishes, I enrolled in the Bachelor of Arts in English course. English was my favorite subject and I believed I could survive the course.
After months as an AB English student, I started to worry. I was the only enrollee. I had visions of myself being jobless because I took up a course with no work definition. I worried I would disgrace my family.
But I graduated and passed the national teacher examination, although I remained unsure because I did not graduate with honors.
I believed honor graduates made better teachers. Still, I resolved to do my best.
My first assignment in a public school was to teach graduating high school students in the sixth section. I was to handle the class in the last quarter of the school year.
When I entered the classroom, I was shocked by the stares and almost panicked. But I had to do my job. I was their teacher.
I looked at their faces. Many of the boys looked older than their supposed ages and appeared like goons.
But remembering the saying not to judge a book by its cover, I began my first lesson.
I chose “The Hare with Many Friends” since I knew I could teach the fable-poem well.
I began with the question, “Have you already encountered the word ‘hare’?” I expected them to say no since they were in a lower section.
After waiting several minutes, I decided I would give the correct answer but a boy at the back spoke: “What are you trying to do, Ma’am? Do you think we are kids?”
Shocked, I asked him, “Do you know the answer?”
He replied: “Very elementary … Hare comes from the family of rabbits.”
I was very surprised. None of the students in the higher sections knew the correct answer. “How do you know?” I asked.
“Ma’am, I know I look like a gangster but I watch television,” he said.
Since then, I engaged myself in the task of getting to know each student in the class, asking other teachers about their own attitudes and behaviors.
One teacher said the attitude you show them on the first day would mark you till the end of the term. If they did not like you, it would last till the last day of class and they could show their “monster” side.
I expected to lose more than half of the class but they were there for our sessions. I challenged the class, since the obvious problem was attendance. “I can give as high as 97 for those who are punctual,” I said.
The same boy at the back answered: “If you could, give us something new other than writing. Writing sucks!”
That class made me feel like I was going back to school. Every day I had to give them something new about English and the boy, whose name I learned was Eduardo, was not only punctual but was also present each day.
I started to wonder if I had become a good teacher even without the academic honors.
Eduardo, I found out, was a good student, so I could not understand why he got 75 in English in the previous three quarters.
His facial expression provided the answer. Boredom.
So I worked hard each day, finding English trivia and other ways to keep them in class, especially Eduardo.
I had to find out why he acted as if he did not mind being in the last section.
The students loved palindromes and anagrams, working and competing in groups. They wanted to stay even after the bell had rung to signal the end of the session.
On the last week of the school year, I asked Eduardo: “The car windows are clear, you can see what’s inside. What is the synonym of… clear?”
In no time he had replied: “Very easy … Transparent.” No doubt a magnificent boy.
I knew I had taught them enough so, I was not surprised when most of them got perfect scores in the final examination and got higher grades at the end of the school year.
Recently, I got a message on Facebook from Eduardo, now an engineering student. He greeted me Happy World Teachers Day with a simple message about missing my classes.
All professions are noble but probably not as fulfilling and inspiring as teaching, especially when you get a “thank you” letter from a student.
Lovely Genee Uy Malabug is a high school teacher from Isabela province.
