By: Adelaida Q. Valenzuela, Head Teacher I - COBNHS
The instruction reads…….”on your oslo papers, draw what you want to be in the future.”
It was already 3:30 in the afternoon. After the whole class recited the 3 o’clock prayer, the emptiness occupied my mind and the instruction didn’t seem to bother me at all. Maybe because, one, I hate sketching or anything related to arts and two, I didn’t have the idea of what to draw.
I knew exactly what I wanted to be in the future – a journalist! In fact, I was only four when I started dreaming of it. However, I had no hint of how to put such dream into an artistic creation as stated in the instruction.
Five minutes was left before the submission of the activity when Amorosa eagerly approached me with the white paper in her palm. I felt what she wanted to do, and I was right, with so much pride she showed her work - the illustration was vivid, from the graphics I could tell what image she portrayed – a woman wearing eyeglasses holding a book in her right hand and a stick in the left. Amorosa wanted to be a TEACHER!
I stared at her blankly which made her leave me alone with my oslo paper still empty. I saw her as she charmingly submitted her work while I was left confused. My eyeballs turned 360 degrees. My brows almost reached my hairline. I wasn’t bitter. I just didn’t welcome the Amorosa’s idea – being in school until my fragile years was like suicide!
The scenario happened two decades ago. Yes, it had been many years ago when I despised the thought of having life spent with lesson plans and instructional materials. In fact, never ever in my wildest dream that I see myself confined in a congested room dealing with childish acts!
Today, as I face the monitor trying to complete this piece, I can hear my inner self telling me something….”Destiny may have tricked me. Life may have imposed a different fate on me.” After several times of forceful avoidance, I found myself surrounded with individuals I once thought lifeless. I found myself engrossed with paraphernalia I once regarded dreary. I found myself doing the job I considered an agony!
Your inference is correct..I am now a TEACHER.
I must admit this job isn’t a bed of roses at all. This entails a taste of all extremes- of the sweetest and the tasteless, of smiles and frowns, heaven and hell.
“Do you love your work?” This has been a rhetorical question for more than centuries now. A commonly asked query which takes a year or two before one could get a hint for an answer.
People work. They work to earn a living. They work to support their loved-ones. They work to save for the future. They work to gain prestige. They work for themselves. Whatever work it is, people do it for a purpose.
Teaching, the noblest work they say. Teachers, the living heroes they think. Aside from these, what else do they know about us – teachers? Do they really understand the nature of our work?
Teachers, as they say are as busy as ants. Work doesn’t end after eight hours. Nights are even days. As soon as eyes spot the morning light, teachers stretch their arms for the whole day walking to and fro, their shoulders loaded with all the duties and responsibilities expected of them. Lesson plans, Visual materials, records – they treasure these. Like ants, they sweat for investment - for the STUDENTS’ FUTURE.
Teachers, they could be as fierce as lions but they could also be as tame as German Shepherds. People picture them as scowling, overly-demanding, strangely perilous beings who punish rule violators in the classroom. However, they also have their flip side. Despite teachers’ sternness, they aren’t really numb. They do not just hear, they also listen, they do not just listen, they also share their words. They do not just share their words, they also offer helping hands. They do not just help, they supervise. They do not just supervise, they also guide like guardian angels.
Teachers, they may be unstoppable parrots – they talk a lot! With a pile of lessons to be discussed, their voice boxes are over-used but it will not stop them from performing their jobs. Nagger-like they may seem, but teachers are the ones who talk with sense. Teachers’ words are reservoir of inspiration that molds students’ characters and enhances their skills.
Teachers, they may be monsters for others, deep-dyed villains for students but they still are the most humble characters in the story. They may appear like boss, but in reality they are only plain subordinates who carefully abide with rules because they know, more than anyone else, they have to set themselves role models for students. Second parents as they are, only think of the welfare of the students.
There are lots to say about teachers. I mentioned few not to emphasize how important we are. I write this not to reiterate how great they are. I have this not to praise them because I am one of them. The point is, the moment I held this job in my embrace; I realized that this work isn’t bad at all- what we have to do is consider this as God’s assignment for us, hence we do this for HIS greater glory.
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