Confessions of a teacher, part 1: The untold story

For tonight, something about me.

A student of mine told me yesterday that I don’t share much about my personal life. I reacted that I never knew we teachers were supposed to. She replied, “I know, sir. But it’s you.” Alright. So, here I am.

I won’t spill everything now (hence the ‘part 1’), but I’ll get started with something that will surprise some of you, I think. So, how about this?

I was never a trained teacher.

Heh. I suppose that shows sometimes? But seriously.

I could say that my talents lend more from my parents who are both advertisers and managers. And perhaps, there is some teacher blood in my family since two of my aunts are teachers, and my great grandfather was once the Minister for Public Instruction. I never made much of this legacy, but history has its way.

In college, I took a one-semester basic education course because I couldn’t think of any other elective to take. Seriously, it was an accident. But I managed to ace (A+) the course and my teacher then whispered to me that I was meant to be a great teacher. Again, I never made much of this prophecy. I wanted to join a non-governmental organization, for all that mattered.

But right after graduation, I applied for a teaching position in the Ateneo High School, my old alma mater. I was actually excited, and I thought about all the possibilities of teaching in a school I really didn’t like but wanted to love. However, it turned out that the school didn’t love me back. I was rejected. Their reason? My degree is not an education one.

Fair enough. I gave up on becoming a teacher. Other schools had the same reason. And so for a while, I decided to pick up on the legacy of my parents and go into advertising. But I didn’t want their help and I wanted to get hired on my own. For a while, I wanted to be part of a world so different from what I am part of now — the young professional in Makati kind of world. But as promising as I was — these interviews have this way of giving you false hope — none of them would hire me. Their reason? My degree is not an advertising one.

See? There is a reason why most political science majors go into law school. For a while, I was the banner of “What not to do with a political science degree.”

And so I carried on. Or rather, I didn’t. Graduation was a bad time for me since I just broke up with my girlfriend then. Obviously, all that rejection didn’t help. No one would hire me, no one would love me! For a while, I quit on me. I gave up! I decided to just bum and see where life would take me. I didn’t care anymore.

Oh, and I wouldn’t even think of going to law school. My exs were there. I think they were even roommates at one point.

But moving on with the story…

I gave myself a lot of quality time. I worked out, learned badminton, and lost about 50 pounds. I worked at just feeling better about myself and I did. Losing weight was a huge confidence booster, and that helped restore my self-esteem. Around May to June, I picked a small job helping my aunt in this events management business she had starting. That stint gave me some string to dangle on since I was literally flat broke.

At around July, I decided to get a ‘real’ job and so I applied for one where I would do nothing but play X-Box all day.

It was for this then small call center which had X-Box as one of its accounts. I wanted to be one of those guys you would call for cheats and stuff. Would’ve been fun. So, I went through the usual application processes and landed the job. But — there’s always a but — they didn’t put me in the X-Box account. They transferred me to Microsoft PC Safety where I would help people with virus problems, spyware and the like. Oh well.

But, hey. They didn’t ask about my political science degree! That’s cool.

I worked at that call center for about three months. It was rather enjoyable in the beginning since I had a real job and started to earn my own money. My teammates were from different backgrounds but we all agreed on having Monster’s Pizza delivered every afternoon (our shift starts at 4pm).

My job was to guide and educate those who call us for help about their virus-related computer problems, with ‘virus’ being a catch all word for anything that’s wrong with the software. So it’s like teaching in a sense. The only difference is that we were talking to really stupid people who in turn made you even more stupid.

“So what makes you say you have a virus in your computer?” I ask.

“It’s not turning on.”

“Have you tried pressing the ON button?”

“Wait” (Tries the ON button.) “Nothing’s happening.”

(Silence on my end.) “Is the computer unplugged?”

(Long silence on his end.)

(Even longer.)

(Even, even longer.) “It’s on now. Thank you.”

O_O

I won’t talk much about my call center life since I’ll make that the topic of a future ‘confessions of a teacher’. Suffice to say, I couldn’t imagine myself doing that kind of work much longer.

I was always a deep individual who wanted to find meaning in what I do. I did a lot of soul-searching and reflecting, and realized that perhaps I should’ve listened to my education teacher.

I remembered that even when I was younger, I already had an inclination to teach. I loved to talk and give advice; I wanted to be a priest at one point since I thought it would be cool to give ‘unboring’ homilies. Back in grade school, I would often substitute for my teachers whenever they’re absent. In high school, I joined an organization that reached out to public school children. I taught catechism for two years at the Balara Elementary School, and I loved interacting with the kids. And in college, I became a master of listening and reading people. But apparently, the person I misunderstood most was me.

At that point, I looked back and regretted the path I took: I should’ve worked, from the very start, to become this ‘great teacher’ she said I would be. But looking at myself — a political science graduate from the Ateneo working in a call center where I spoke with stupid people all day — I was just afraid that I was too far gone. My life hasn’t been lucky with second chances.

And then in one November night, I received a call.

“Hello, this is Mr. Jorge Job from the Philippine Science High School and we’re wondering if you would like to apply for a teaching position.”

What? Excuse me? Am I dead? Am I hearing right?

“Uh, sure.” Christ. You can do better than that, Martin. “But I’m at work right now.” (It was 9PM)

“Okay. Someone will call you in the morning.” Then he put the phone down. It was creepy. Like an episode of the Godfather or something. But it was the best moment of my call center days. I forgot that I threw my resume in Philippine Science when I graduated, but they didn’t accept me at that time since they didn’t need a social studies teacher then. But that was then. Thank God I forgot.

Mr. Job called again in the morning and instructed me on what to do next. “You will need to do a demo class. History of China, first emperor. Basic stuff. Thursday, 10 o’clock.”

He said many more things but that was all I remembered. It was Tuesday and I had one day to prepare a lesson on something I haven’t thought of for two years. History of China? I forgot my history of China!

So when I went to work on Tuesday, I used company resources to research the history of China (hehehe… evil… but call centers have good computers) and I designed a simple lesson that will cover how the first emperor — Qin Shih Huangdi — united China politically, economically and socially.

I still remember that demo class. It was Thursday morning and I’ve only had two hours of sleep. I didn’t know what to expect. I was going to enter a room full of geniuses and I felt so stupid, no thanks to three months in the call center.

And it was tons of fun. I taught Rosal ’07 like I was never going to teach again. I had a koosh ball with me — which I called the mandate of heaven — and everytime someone recited I asked them for an emperor (or empress) name. I taught them all they needed to know about the history of China in 45 minutes. I loved that moment so much and realized that God, this is what I want to do. Please, let me do this. I never prayed so hard in my life.

After that demo, my polo was drenched in sweat but I didn’t mind at all. The social science unit interviewed me and I remember seeing all of my current co-unit members there. I couldn’t remember much of what happened because I was so dazed from my first teaching experience. All I figured out were their ending words, “Thank you very much. We’ll call you again.”

Those were the best words and most frightening words. A week passed and no call. Another week passed and still no call. Everyone who cared told me that the job was mine, but nothing was final. Until November 15 came. That day, someone called the house while I was out. All I got when I arrived was a message that I should go to Pisay the next day. I had no idea who to go to.

So on November 16, I went to Pisay and looked for that person who called. All I knew is that it was a woman. I worked my way up to the faculty and I ran into Sir Vlad. He said that we should try the HR office and so he helped me there. On the way he said, “hinahanap ka nung mga bata, ah. Tinatanong kami kung nasaan ka.” (“The kids are looking for you. The’re asking where you are!”)

And that was a moment for me. (Namiss ka raw nila.) (“They missed you.”)

When I arrived at the HR office, I was briefed immediately. This was the clincher: “We are about to take you in but there is one problem.”

Oh, God. Not my political science degree.

“According to these tests, you are a shy person? And your former supervisor said that you don’t open up much.”

What can I say? I’ve been rejected all my life.

“We hope you change.”

That was it? No, “you’re hired?”

“Please go to the CISD office.”

And go I did. My meeting with the CISD chief was very short. “So, we need a teacher to teach Asian history to four second year sections, and Philippine history to one first year section. You will also be an adviser.”

I can’t believe my ears.

“Thank you for giving us your services,” the CISD chief said with a smile. And I must have thanked her a hundred times. “Do you have any questions?”

I know there was one. “When do I start?” Then the bell rang.

“I think your next class is already waiting at room 319.”

Without looking back, I went up the stairs and greeted a room full of familiar faces. I missed Rosal ’07 too, my first class ever and my first advisory too. And for the first time in my life, I felt what it was like to be truly alive. Every heartbreak and rejection led me to this moment. And life, couldn’t be better even though it could play pretty mean tricks.

And the best part? Someone asked me on the first day.

“Sir Martin, what is your course?”

I answered, “Political science.” With a smile.

“Wow. That’s so cool, sir.”

Yeah, I guess it is.

TO BE CONTINUED