Teachers Month

World Teachers Day is held on October 5th annually. This year the Philippines is celebrating it by labeling it with a theme entitled “My Teacher, My Hero”. The celebration begins on the 4th of September and culminates on World Teachers’ Day. It is in the spirit of celebration that spurred me to again open my blog site and start posting away.

Visitors who have been loyal readers (including those with hopes that I will finally be able to post regularly so they drop by every so often) will notice that I still do not have any consistent schedule of posting.

Newbies will realize that I’m not much into creative design as I am into writing. Because my blog site is bland, I make up for it in quality posting… at least imo.

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I’m a frustrated educator. Since college, I’ve always wanted to teach. Unfortunately, I don’t have a masteral degree yet so I can’t “corrupt the minds of the youth” yet, as our college Philosophy professor used to say. So what I can’t do in the classroom, I try to do in the workplace by mentoring and coaching people. I’m no career guru but I try to share with my people my previous experiences and give them opportunities to shine.

So while I’m no professor in the school, perhaps I try to sublimate it by becoming a coach in the school of hard knocks.

I can never forget that cliche. I was at the canteen alone during my last term in college and an old Religion professor approached me and asked if we could share a table. I obliged. He goes on congratulating me that I’ll soon be a college graduate but that there is still much to learn in the school of hard knocks.

I haven’t visited my alma mater – regardless if it’s the college I went to or high school -  for a very long time. I wonder where my teachers are today. I guess this longing just reflects the profound effect educators have on their students. This is especially true for great educators as well as lousy ones. You always remember the extremes.

One time I was in ____ (I can’t remember the municipality), Bulacan doing a market visit of a public market (now doesn’t that sound double redundant….) and lo and behold I spot my grade 6 school teacher. She recognized me and we exchanged pleasantries. She had stopped teaching and was now doing business in Bulacan. She was our English teacher and she made us spell all those crazy words like o-no-ma-to-pee-ya, hai-per-ball-y, and other words that befuddled the minds of the tweens.

I also frequently see one of my college professor in a mall in Manila. He can’t remember me and I don’t call out to him because I am not even sure if he still teaches. This teacher did not corrupt our minds, but he did pollute it somewhat.

Of all the teachers that I hold close to my aorta is Mr. Hilario Francia. He was our professor for art appreciation and he would frequently ask his students to submit art reviews. At the end of the semester, I was one of the 5 or so students whom he asked to contribute to the Manila Times. I guess that’s where the writer in me was born. I still contribute today but not to Manila Times, due to limited time, I only contribute sparingly- a community newspaper and a personal finance magazine (although lately haven’t contributed anything to said magazine).

I wish that one day I can also plant the seeds for a student’s future success. To all the teachers of the world, happy teachers day(or month)!

Journal Entry No. 3

Dear Journal,

I am writing this down for future reference. I am also writing this so that others may learn from my unfortunate experience.

Some people will not be interested to read this because this has absolutely nothing to do with them. Some will read because of curiosity. Most might just skip this altogether. But I have to enlighten the world (and unload my trapped emotions).

I’ve said since the early part of this year that I’ve been inundated with problems. At first I thought that they were just simple, manageable issues; but, as the year trudged along I realized that they were just the tip of the iceberg. There was more underneath it all.

My life went berserk sometime in July when my life panned out like a rehashed telenovala plot as the issues unfolded and the antagonists began to surface. The people whom you’d think would protect you, and take care of you, turned out to be the vilest of creatures. The word vile is not enough to describe the atrocities that they have committed.

Right now, I am still coming to grips with all the new realities. There have been many life altering truths that I have learned, through the hard way. And the one truth that unites them all is that you cannot trust anyone but yourself. It’s an overused adage that only first hand experience can teach you, I suppose.

A friend told me that the bad guys live longer than the good ones. Fools have been looking for the fountain of youth when they should just have acted like the vile creatures I know.

The word freak in me turns to the word vile. Spelled another way, it is evil. Spelled in yet another way, it’s live. So

vile = evil = live

Three simple truths. Or, maybe I should think harder? See you again sometime, my dear journal. And maybe dear journal, I’ll have some pictures splashed across the page. Ciao for now.