Why I teach

 

(The author is a 2005 graduate of the Ateneo de Manila University and teaches at Culiat Elementary School.)

“Why do you want to teach?” 

 

People ask me this question for different reasons – some out of curiosity, others out of disbelief, while others just want to challenge my decision to be a public school teacher. 

 

The thing is, I also ask myself the same question. I ask this over and over again to remind myself why I am here. What is my moral purpose? The question is not just about what I get out of teaching but why I want to be here. It’s a desire and a choice, after all. 

 

In one study*, they asked a thousand student teachers this question and 20 percent of them answered, “because I want to make a difference.” But what kind of difference do we want to make?

 

When I started teaching, a little boy called Anton showed me the kind of difference I wanted to make. He came to my grade 5 classroom unable to read big words. He really struggled and always felt frustrated.

 

After working with them for a year, I had them line up to read sentences from a big book and asked them questions to check comprehension. Anton came up, read the sentences very slowly and yet answered the questions correctly.

After reading, he remained standing by the side so I told him to sit down. He asked me, “Ma’am, puwede po umulit?” and then whispered to his classmate, “Ang sarap kasing magbasa e!”

 

This is the difference I want to create with my students! I would really be happy to hear them say at the end of the school year, “Ma’am, ang galing ko na!” rather than “Ma’am, ang galing mo!”

 

But it doesn’t mean that when your purpose is clear to you, teaching becomes easy. In fact, it’s more overwhelming because now you push yourself to create the difference you want to make. Sometimes you get burnt out and you are not always loving and patient and generous as a teacher. Bilang guro, napupuno tayo.

 

Nevertheless, teachers are also filled (sometimes to the brim) by other things – by children’s dreams and their stories, by their hope and their energy. I loved walking with my students after class because during those times, they became my teachers and I, their student.

 

They told the stories, I took notes. I collected their dreams of becoming rich and famous, of becoming soldiers and pilots and nurses, of getting their families out of poverty.

I was filled with insight by how happy they were despite being poor, how they can make Christmas trees out of broken umbrellas. These are what I carry with me when times get difficult. Bilang guro, napupuno tayo.

 

I had a student named Judy Ann who constantly had seizures. Once, I even had to bring her to the hospital from the school. The doctors said her potassium levels were low and she needed maintenance drugs. The family had no money for medicine.

Despite being sick, Judy Ann tried as much as she could to always come to class. She passed grade 5 and went on to grade 6. She died last October (I write this piece in her memory). 

 

Another student, Makmod, was a big, burly boy who dropped out of school and the teachers never heard from him again. I bumped into him once and was shocked to see how thin he was. From how he looked and the needle pricks on his arm, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was doing drugs.

He was smoking while talking to me, “Ma’am, gusto ko pa sana bumalik sa school pero nahihiya na ako kasi mas matanda na ako sa mga kaklase ko.”

I told him about the Alternative Learning System (ALS) and encouraged him to attend the program. The only answer I got was a shrug and, “Tignan po natin.” I never saw Makmod again. 

 

I have always asked myself: as a teacher, what more could I have done for them? What power do I have against my students’ circumstances? I know for a fact I’m not superwoman nor a messiah. I’m limited and some things are beyond my control. But I ask because it was painful to just watch it unfold. It was painful because I love my students.

And when I stormed the heavens for answers especially when I didn’t know what to do anymore, the only I answer I got was, “The mission wasn’t teaching. The mission has always been to love. What would a loving person do?” 

 

As teachers, we are leaders inside our own classrooms. We have the capacity to create a classroom where students can feel safe, where they can delight in learning and enjoy being kids, where they don’t have to think about earning money and just focus on reaching their potential. Bilang guro, namumuno tayo.  And not just namumuno, which means “to lead” but also “to fill”. To fill the students with experiences of learning but also of love. 

 

This is why I teach. 

 

I know this is easier said than done. I struggle with this every day. And this may or may not address the problems but I try to keep my hopes up. Probably because this is what a loving teacher would do – to keep trying. 

 

*Fullan, M. G. (1993). Why Teachers Must Become Change Agents. The Professional Teacher. 50(6), 12-17. 

– GMA News