teacher, teacher

3:17 PM Friday, September 30, 2005

Let me see...

I went to kindergarten and prep school. That's one teacher per year (were we fewer then or are kids just more unmanageable now?).

Then Elementary. Let's just say 6 teachers per year (although I think I graduated in 6th grade with more than 8 subjects).

Then High School. Say, 8 teachers per year. Roughly.

Then college. Say another 8 professors per sem.

So generally, a Filipino student goes through 130-150 teachers all in all.

How many of these teachers will actually TOUCH your life? How many will serve as a helping hand when you're at the end of your rope? How many will really inspire you to do great things? How many of them will make you realize how truly beautiful and unique you are?

I remember a lot of teachers.

Teachers who were bullies.
Teachers who played favorites.
Teachers who had humongous boobs.
Teachers who were pushovers.
Teachers who had bad grammar.
The teacher you hit with a flying polvoron.
The teacher your class walked out on.
The teacher who looked like your parrot.
The teacher who can teach very efficiently in both perfect English and perfect Tagalog.
The teacher who gave you another chance.
The teacher you disappointed.
The teacher who hit your palms with a ruler.
The teacher who died of cancer.

But there's only one or two that I really loved, and would be forever grateful for.

Dr. Mancao (forgive me, Ma'am, I have forgotten your first name) was my professor in Theories of Personality in college. She made us write reflection papers for each personality theory studied (how that theory could explain our own personalities). Sometimes tho, we couldn't help but rant in the papers we submit.

You'd love her. She actually reads your paper. Not only does she correct your grammar, she also reacts to your thoughts. With smileys, with questions, with rebuttals, with caring words, with words of wisdom.

When I say something about how feelings can be misleading, she'd remind me that feelings can also be revealing.

When I submit 10 pages of my interpretation of Freud's "goal of life is death" and what I believe "penis envy" really is, she'd be quick to thank me for raising points she has never considered before.

And once, in the midst of adolescent wandering, she wrote this:

Sigh. I still labor over rhetorical, irrational, stupid, self-serving questions sometimes, Ma'am. There are still moments when I ache for explanations to help me deal with frustrations, with injustices, with pain.

But at least I realized then that I don't always need answers.

I have saved all the papers you made us do. And the wisdowm and grace that has always emanated from you has continued to save me.


We are preempting Halloween. Join me and my BlogBerks as we swap ghost stories.


An advance birthday gift that really touched me is getting to be chosen as BLOG OF THE WEEK. So thank you to all those who regularly visit me here, even those who are just after naughty pictures and sensual/sexual tips.

Thanks to PINOYBLOG and the Sassy Lawyer.


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