What a teacher makes
In the last Manila showing of Potted Potter, a parody of the best-selling novel series turned top-grossing movie Harry Potter by JK Rowling, duo Benjamin Stratton and James Percy ran a few gags against the teaching profession, perhaps not knowing (or was it intentionally part of the script?) that most Filipinos look up to educators as role models of some sort. Incidentally, the show I watched with my colleagues and friends fell on World Teachers’ Day.
I found their particular attempt at humor tasteless. Often not recognized in society are the enormous sacrifices teachers make inside and outside of the classroom. These unsung heroes spend more hours for dedicated work than for how much they are paid.
I should know because, aside from having good friends who are or were in the academe, I was one. The use of past tense here indicates that I no longer teach.
My short stint as an instructor began sometime last year when I received an invitation from a college dean who used to be a part-time professor in my university. I found it easy to actually say yes and render my service, despite my seeming lack of expertise, but eventually declined the offer due to my then hectic and irregular schedule as I was working in a major television network.
The following year, the dean popped the invitation anew. Given my freer lifestyle, I told him I would think about it. In his next phone call, I was given my class schedule.
While I never refuted the idea of teaching, I did not expect things to happen right away. What I loved about the offer was the subject I was asked to teach per se: Communication and Social Change. I am in media practice primarily because of the idealistic and hopeful belief that the media can catalyze social reforms.
The college dean was gracious enough to let me do things on my own, from the preparation of the course outline to the grading system, then guide me throughout the semester. Not long afterwards, I delighted in wearing this new hat and was deeply involved with my part-time profession.
Moonlighting, however, is quite difficult to manage. Times inevitably came when I exert much more effort in checking papers and making Powerpoint presentations than in reading, writing, and editing news stories in my regular day job.
Teaching is demanding, but it is fulfilling.
Unlike someone I know from work, I teach not to append my month’s earnings but to influence at least a student’s way of looking at things. (Heck, I do not even know how much I am getting!)
Admittedly, I had reservations and doubts when I was just starting the semester. How can a non-educator like me, who never had an actual teaching experience before save from some reporting exercises in school, and who had taken no teaching unit in college, possibly educate future educators? (I teach junior BS Education students in Don Bosco College — Canlubang. They major in religious education and pastoral communication.)
More than once, I wondered if I am meant to simply live a journalist’s life vicariously and divert the rest of my life and will power to train communicators, or if I can truly make it in the journalism profession, to which I have devoted my whole life so far and will power.
As they say, “Those who can't do, teach.”
I did not want to give up on my declared chosen career path this early, so I learned to say no when the newly appointed college dean dropped hints at inviting me to be part of their faculty again. It is time, I say, more for myself than it is for those who have heard, that I focus on my journalism practice.
The last day of my class with the REPC juniors, which happened to be their final examinations day in my subject, is also my last day as a teacher. I could not help but be both sentimental and celebratory.
^ With Danna Chiong, Elyz Espiritu, and Ehrick Mendoza
(Photo by Elyz Espiritu)
^ With Hubert Bagtas
(Photos by Dean Ponce; his edits)
My students might not have learned as much theoretical assumptions governing communication and social change as I would want them to, and if ever they do, they might forget these lessons in three years or sooner, but I know I tingled and tickled their emotions and challenged and changed their primordial mindsets — an influence that could last a lifetime.
As I told them during our very first meeting, if I am able to turn them from passive, bookish, grade-conscious scholars into socially aware and active, critical thinkers, then I would have succeeded even in my short-lived teaching post.
^ Lovely girls of REPC
^ Their last chance to see their raw scores
^ Choir members from the class doing last-minute preparations for
an impromptu sem-ender presentation (see video below)
^ The students jubilantly flash their “roar” poses amid inside jokes
calling me “Ma’am Meow” after I revealed my special talent.
(Photos taken by Elyz Espiritu and Prette Vincoy)
Needless to day, this batch of crazy kiddos will ever hold a special place in my heart — as the first group of students I handled, and possibly the last. •
I found their particular attempt at humor tasteless. Often not recognized in society are the enormous sacrifices teachers make inside and outside of the classroom. These unsung heroes spend more hours for dedicated work than for how much they are paid.
I should know because, aside from having good friends who are or were in the academe, I was one. The use of past tense here indicates that I no longer teach.
My short stint as an instructor began sometime last year when I received an invitation from a college dean who used to be a part-time professor in my university. I found it easy to actually say yes and render my service, despite my seeming lack of expertise, but eventually declined the offer due to my then hectic and irregular schedule as I was working in a major television network.
The following year, the dean popped the invitation anew. Given my freer lifestyle, I told him I would think about it. In his next phone call, I was given my class schedule.
While I never refuted the idea of teaching, I did not expect things to happen right away. What I loved about the offer was the subject I was asked to teach per se: Communication and Social Change. I am in media practice primarily because of the idealistic and hopeful belief that the media can catalyze social reforms.
The college dean was gracious enough to let me do things on my own, from the preparation of the course outline to the grading system, then guide me throughout the semester. Not long afterwards, I delighted in wearing this new hat and was deeply involved with my part-time profession.
Moonlighting, however, is quite difficult to manage. Times inevitably came when I exert much more effort in checking papers and making Powerpoint presentations than in reading, writing, and editing news stories in my regular day job.
Teaching is demanding, but it is fulfilling.
Unlike someone I know from work, I teach not to append my month’s earnings but to influence at least a student’s way of looking at things. (Heck, I do not even know how much I am getting!)
Admittedly, I had reservations and doubts when I was just starting the semester. How can a non-educator like me, who never had an actual teaching experience before save from some reporting exercises in school, and who had taken no teaching unit in college, possibly educate future educators? (I teach junior BS Education students in Don Bosco College — Canlubang. They major in religious education and pastoral communication.)
More than once, I wondered if I am meant to simply live a journalist’s life vicariously and divert the rest of my life and will power to train communicators, or if I can truly make it in the journalism profession, to which I have devoted my whole life so far and will power.
As they say, “Those who can't do, teach.”
I did not want to give up on my declared chosen career path this early, so I learned to say no when the newly appointed college dean dropped hints at inviting me to be part of their faculty again. It is time, I say, more for myself than it is for those who have heard, that I focus on my journalism practice.
The last day of my class with the REPC juniors, which happened to be their final examinations day in my subject, is also my last day as a teacher. I could not help but be both sentimental and celebratory.
^ With Danna Chiong, Elyz Espiritu, and Ehrick Mendoza
(Photo by Elyz Espiritu)
^ With Hubert Bagtas
(Photos by Dean Ponce; his edits)
My students might not have learned as much theoretical assumptions governing communication and social change as I would want them to, and if ever they do, they might forget these lessons in three years or sooner, but I know I tingled and tickled their emotions and challenged and changed their primordial mindsets — an influence that could last a lifetime.
As I told them during our very first meeting, if I am able to turn them from passive, bookish, grade-conscious scholars into socially aware and active, critical thinkers, then I would have succeeded even in my short-lived teaching post.
^ Lovely girls of REPC
^ Their last chance to see their raw scores
^ Choir members from the class doing last-minute preparations for
an impromptu sem-ender presentation (see video below)
^ The students jubilantly flash their “roar” poses amid inside jokes
calling me “Ma’am Meow” after I revealed my special talent.
(Photos taken by Elyz Espiritu and Prette Vincoy)
Needless to day, this batch of crazy kiddos will ever hold a special place in my heart — as the first group of students I handled, and possibly the last. •