I teach, therefore I am

For Teachers Day, I asked my son Roel who teaches 21st Century Literature to 12th graders at the Alternative Education Department of La Salle Greenhills to share his thoughts on teaching and education. This is what he wrote:

Reading through a copy of my transcript of records acquired as a requirement for a new teaching position five years ago reminded me of several revitalizing things. People who knew me back in the day can attest to how it was most ironic that I ended up becoming a passionate educator, being the student equivalent of Sid Vicious and Ferris Bueller’s baby on meth. An understatement, really. The three-page document clearly reflects that. Let’s just say I would be an undisputed honor’s student if 1.0 was the highest grade in DLSU. Hashtag suma-sampu.

Yes, grades are important, especially in what my students tell me is such a competitive, cutthroat world that particularly challenges their generation. But isn’t that how the world’s always been? How it always will be? At the end of the day, especially when no one’s around to pin a medal on your chest, it’s how much you know about being human that will ultimately matter.

While being a lifelong student, I learned most of what I know from living vividly, reading voraciously, struggling brazenly, interacting genuinely, loving boldly, listening judiciously, speaking recklessly, falling flat on my face shamelessly. From breaking down ferociously and repeatedly getting back up, stubbornly, gracefully.

There is no numerical value that could ever measure how many times I’ve yelled “No!” right back at life when it was telling me to Quit. Nor is there any formula to adequately compute how much I learned to be empathetic, critical, creative, imaginative, optimistic, compassionate and human from living loudly and clearly. Latching on to each moment for dear life, never taking anything for granted, not an ounce of either glint or grime.

Having been a Literature major at DLSU, I owe a lot to my alma mater, the institution that permitted my reach to exceed my grasp while continually reminding me to whom much has been given much is required, and the professors who mentored me regarding the vital rules. As much as I owe to the unlikely teachers and invaluable life experiences that instructed me how to make up my own. Heck, I even unwittingly met the ever-radiant wife as a bumbling freshman.

Grades are great, recognition fantastic. But even as I teach in whatever form or venue, it is substance that matters most. This has always gone without saying. And I can only teach what I know. But it’s good to be reminded from time to time, even if via an official three-page document.

“Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire,” William Blake screamed at me during my lunch break in a Binondo bodega during an unconquerable mid-90’s summer, while my peers in university were defending their theses. I took the less-scenic route where they gave out life lessons instead of warm in-flight meals, but I got to Rome eventually.

Since then I have worked at a children’s museum as a storyteller and guide, in a rehabilitation center as a peer counselor, as an editor and liaison officer during survey visits for a school accreditation agency and as a writing mentor for a creative writing center for kids and teens, I now spend my weeks mentoring and tutoring around 30 students, and for three hours every Friday teaching underprivileged 12th graders at the AltEd Department of LSGH, which previously have included deaf learners and a section comprised of persons deprived of liberty (PDLs) from the Mandaluyong City Jail.

Everything I do is in some shape or form a medium of teaching. Whether it be an IB student needing help for a college application essay for an Ivy League school or a 45-year-old seeking a second chance at life while awaiting sentencing, as long as there is a mind and heart that seeks mentorship and empowerment through literature and writing, I will enthusiastically find the time.

In his seminal work “Pedagogy of the Oppressed,” Paulo Freire asserts that “education must begin with the solution of the teacher-student contradiction, by reconciling the poles of the contradiction so that both are simultaneously teachers and students.” He also equated teachers with bank clerks and saw them as ‘depositing’ information into students rather than drawing out knowledge from individual students or creating inquisitive beings with a thirst for knowledge. A good friend also reminded me of how education should not primarily be a road to gainful employment, but a means to nurture students into living meaningful lives and learning how to be human. John Keating of Dead Poets Society ingrained this early on while I was sitting in a now-refurbished theater with my mother 34 years ago.

While earning a living is of course a concern for all, I also discovered along the way that I can only keep what I have by giving it away, making sure I learn just as much as I teach. I grew up nurtured by two steadfast educators with a colossal library, unconditional love and uncompromising values. They taught by shining example and are largely the reason why I teach, therefore I am.

*      *      *

Email: [email protected]