5 February 2001, Monday

Another week. I almost dreaded going to work today after a very good weekend. I said “dreaded” because I dread the commuting part of my profession. Well, it’s part of it. We, teachers, do not get enough salary anyway to get a decent car. Reflecting on this just now, I thought that I am not fulfilling my career very well. I know, and I have heard it, that if you really love what you are doing, the difficult things that go with it do not matter anymore. For some reason, they still matter to me. Maybe because I am still new at the profession and I have to admit the fact that I am not your Mr. Pagsy of the Ateneo. But hey, I know I have to do it because I cannot abandon my students. So I went through the grueling pollution—noise and air!—and the physical stress that it can give you trying to go against the law of inertia otherwise you’ll be thrown out of the jeepney!

It’s a Monday. There was a flag ceremony held in the other building which is a 3-minute walk from the high school building. Since extra time is spent walking from one building to another, 10 minutes of my time with the second years are always eaten up. So I always have at most 25 minutes left with them. Why does it happen to this class that I enjoy being in? Today, we discussed about the background of “The Canterbury Tales.” Again, I had to tell them a story to be interested. So I told them the story of Thomas a Becket who was murdered in the Canterbury Cathedral. That is the Cathedral where the pilgrims in the tale are headed to. It caught their attention and, as if automatically, asked if there was a movie. One student started sharing and said that she knows that there is a play about it and that she saw it in UA&P. It started an informal conversation and it made the atmosphere very light. Everyone is at ease to say just anything without the fear of being laughed at or making a wrong comment. (There is no such thing as a wrong comment! Just out of place…) I have always thought that being friends—or informal and casual—with the students is plus factor for a teacher because it is easy to talk to them and start a discussion. The difficult part is to know where to draw the line. Whereas when authority is exercised in the classroom, I believe that it scares the students giving the learning atmosphere a stiff and humid one not allowing a single thought breeze through out of their minds. The good thing with this one is you have control over your students and enjoy the sound of silence and savor the sound of your own voice. (I mean to be a little sarcastic as a Literature teacher.) The latter is what happens with my first year class. They are just too behaved. The long bell rang sweetly to my ears and dismissed the class.

As I was walking towards the faculty room, I saw the three first year students—they’re always together—I mentioned in my last entry. I remembered the responsibility I gave them and asked them first how the play went. One of them reacted and said that the play went well that their parents were just laughing at some of the characters. They also said that the background music was much better and that I missed the whole thing. (I missed it yesterday because I had to stay home for family reasons.) So I asked if they were able to tape it and they gave me a big NO that banged into my eardrums! My blood rushed through my veins and to my brain that I thought I’m going to get hypertension right in front of them. So I asked for an explanation. They told me: (1) No one had a video camera among them; (2) They did not know that I was not going to school and see them; and (3) The one who had the camera did not go. Talk about patience in its most heroic degree! I did not burst but contended them saying that they should have been responsible to look for a video camera that they can borrow and that whether I was there or not there, they should have taped it for documentation purposes. They gave me lame excuses and not reasons. I don’t remember how I ended it but the next thing I knew was I was already inside the faculty room, seated and feeling very frustrated. I mean, after having heard all the beautiful comments from the teachers and some parents, the teacher will not be able to appreciate it? Harrumph! And I still have to see them for a class…

Hours passed and I started hearing my other colleagues talking about our ever “lovable” first year class. The teachers would always have some sort of a problem with them at least once in a day. They were talking about students deliberately cutting class trying to excuse themselves saying that they did not hear the bell ring or the teacher was not there in the room yet so they decided to go down. The conversation about it just before your class with them will really make you stay put and not go to class. Then again, my conscience bugged me and went to their class. There’s a catch though. I entered their class fuming within me. I released it by telling the class that those who were present yesterday and who did their jobs will get extra points for recitation while the others will not get anything. Of course, the three students reacted. They defended themselves saying that they were there as well and that they also deserve to get even just a little. Here I go again, the kind-hearted teacher, I gave in and told them “Fine. You’ll get credits for being there.” I can never be a real mean teacher ever. I would burst once in a while and last for just a few minutes and I’ll be fine again which happened with this class when we started the discussion proper on “The Iliad” by Homer.