Knowing What I Know Now

Now I know what...

2010-09-06T01:25:00.003+08:00

...I want to do with my life.

I want to become a university professor.

At first it was just something I thought would be a logical career trajectory. But after watching the video below, I realize that the best place where I can be the person I really am is at a university.

I want to be surrounded by people who are smart, thus challenging myself to be even smarter. I want to be in an environment that requires you to learn. I want to be part of an institution that believes in the acquisition and transmission of universal knowledge. I want to enable the dreams of some, and crush the dreams of others. I want to be where excellence is not encouraged, but demanded.

This is not just a blabber at two in the morning about how some proverbial light going off in my head. It's not the delusional product of a tired mind.

I believe I can do this. I believe I should. And I will.

"Professor Landayan, sir."

Being a bad student

2010-07-17T23:40:00.003+08:00

I was never really a good student. I mean that in two senses: First, I took the little opportunities of annoying my teacher by staging an interview right in the middle of the lesson. Masking it as an innocent exposition of the lesson took up as much time as possible without being intrusive. Second, I was never good at studying. I never liked it, I don't like it now, and I don't think I'd ever come around to liking it. Only when there were major exams would I study hard. Studying pretty much consisted of reading the summaries provided at the end of each chapter in our textbooks.

Based on the Buddhist belief that "what goes around comes around," they say that if you were a bad student, your students won't be as kind to you when you become a teacher. And what you did poorly as a student will come back to haunt you as a teacher.

My students' overall behavior has so far been controllable as much as it is tolerable. Yes, sometimes it's annoying especially when you'd rather be doing something else worthwhile, like sleeping. You'd rather your lesson go as smoothly as possible but your students are a coordinated orchestra of noise. Sometimes you let them know how much you don't appreciate it, give them a tongue lashing as offensive as your profession would allow. But sometimes you just let them finish what they need to say to each other, a few minutes of their own time to satisfy their oral fixation. Show your disgust, but say nothing. So far so good. I can't say any of my students genuinely despise me.

It's being a student again that I am more anxious about. Taking my entrance exam for my graduate studies, I encountered many of the things I studied by rote when I was in college. Having to resort to intelligent guessing is not always the best way to pass an important exam. It made me realize that I might have to take these courses again. Perhaps the Buddhists failed to mention that what comes back around perceived as bad will be reacted to differently the second time around. Given the chance to study Linear Algebra, Modern Algebra, and Modern Geometry (sources of sleepless nights and furious heart palpitations) again, I won't pass up the chance to do better.

I'm in this profession because I enjoy being in school as a teacher and as a student.

Yuck.

Do teachers miss being students?

2010-07-12T22:12:00.002+08:00

I'm applying for my Masters Degree in Education at the university I graduated from. It has been exciting for me gathering the requirements for my application. Somehow, going back to school and being in a classroom as a student again is something to look forward to. It's funny how when I was a student, especially in my last year of college, I wanted to get it over and done with as soon as possible. Now as a teacher in the classroom every day, I look forward to going back to being a student. Perhaps, it's just trading the stress of one role for another. Or it could be taking them both on at the same time at different times of the week. Either way, I look forward to it. At some point standing in front of a class for all those hours, don't teachers just sometimes wish they could just go back to being the person sitting on the other side?

Why are you a teacher?

2010-07-10T09:16:00.009+08:00

What might run through your head as you try to answer this question:

Philanthropist
I am fulfilled by being a better part of a lot of people's lives. It's enough for me to be able to share the knowledge and skills I have so that others may pursue to become their best. Having better individuals is the foundation of a better society. That is the role of education after all: For individuals to be equipped with knowledge and skills to be productive citizens that contribute to society. Through teaching, I affect other people's lives and my influence outlives me.

Narcissist
I teach because I can and I know how to. I like being able to tell people what to do, bluntly pointing out their mistakes, and watching them cringe and squirm in their seats as they contemplate their inevitable failure. A god-complex if you will. A classroom is the perfect place to set up a reception of this worship.

Superficial
I like to think a lot of people like me. It's the inherent human quest for fraternity and belonging. A classroom is a setting where a teacher can be liked right away by students many times over.

Philosopher
I would like to actively participate in the "corruption of the minds of the youth." It means to bring students to a point of "cognitive dissonance" such that you challenge what they know, most powerfully, their beliefs. It is only at this point that you can correct misconceptions, and add knowledge. A locked window pane won't allow any water in, unless there is a crack.

Practical
I will never run out of a job. Anywhere in the world, teachers are employed regardless of capacity. Further, teaching "how to learn" makes a teacher adept at learning himself. This high learning quotient also helps a lot of teachers learn new jobs in different fields that can make them even more employable.

*****

By no means are these accurate as they came from the top of my head. Maybe I'll come up with a method to plot a graph of how much of each any teacher has in them. Maybe I'll make a research out of it, even.

A complete waste of time.

If you have anything to add, hit the comments.

Exercising restraint

2010-07-05T20:24:00.003+08:00

Some days are harder than others. Today was one of them.

My new schedule has me doing four classes Tuesdays to Fridays and five classes on Mondays. As it stands I have a total of 21 teaching hours a week. This is a direct result of my own choice to take up another subject, and I understand the work and consequences that come with it. I'm not complaining. I have no reason to.

If that's not enough to chew on, you still have to deal with kids. Yes, goats.

There are days when you just feel like going over to your student, grabbing him by the neck, squeezing his voice box in, punching him in the eyeballs, slamming him against the wall, all the while shouting expletives that has to do with how he came out of his mother.

But they're kids. And even though their age does not exempt them from being disrespectful, you still have to show restraint when they are. You can't go around stomping someone in the face even if it was warranted.

I was previously warned about how disrespectful the kids in my school could be. I didn't think I'd encounter it and I really thought I'd be prepared to handle it properly if it happened. I was just taken aback by a kid in my class asking me to dance in front of the class for him. It's as if you're teaching and someone throws a wrench into your engine. Personally, that was just a different level of disrespect that I had never encountered before. It was our first meeting as a class, these kids didn't know me, and to say that to someone you don't know in the real world for no reason other than being plain stupid, you'd deserve a punch in the face.

My parents used to say that I would have to control my temper if I was to become a good teacher. And it's true. I can lose my temper easily and I just might end up doing something I would regret. But years of education has taught me that I have a job to fulfill, a role to play in these kids' lives. Expending energy on this one kid would have wasted the time of the students who really wanted to learn. At the end of the day, I am there to teach. I have to be professional.

So I stared at him with disdain, utterly disgusted by this low-life act of stupidity. I suppose he got the message. He shut up for the rest of the period. I understand that the school has its own protocols on how to handle such cases. But I took this one personally. I recognized it as a moment where I could exercise professionalism, and it took a lot of composure to put the kid in his place without hurting him. If it does happen again, that means the kid needs professional help, and I will give him that.

Each class is a war of attrition. Picking your battles can help you win the war.

Students are not enemies

2010-07-03T01:43:00.004+08:00

Disliking a teacher and not liking a teacher are two different things. On one hand, for a student to dislike a teacher, a prerequisite event involving teacher and student, particularly unpleasant to the student, has to have happened. Or the teacher might possess an inherent quality that students don't want anything to do with. On the other hand, a student not liking a teacher does not necessarily mean that the student doesn't want anything to do with the teacher. Perhaps, the teacher just doesn't elicit excitement from the student, good or bad. At least the student has no untoward feelings against the teacher.

Between the two, I would choose to be the latter. I still would like to be the teacher students remember, mostly, if not only, for the reason that he or she learned something valuable from me--math or otherwise. My students don't have to like me. I'm not after a validation of my existence from the warm reception of other people. As long as I am able to be a good part of someone's life with their knowledge or not, then I can sleep at night.

But is it important for me to like my students?

In this the starting block of my career, I will answer "No". I don't have to like my students. But I should never dislike them. I understand that I have a role to play in the classroom and in their lives. It is one that requires the intangibles only growing up can provide. I just don't adhere to the belief that students are enemies and teachers are on the other side. This way of thinking does affect the teacher's performance.

Say you have a student who constantly misbehaves, another who seldom pays attention, and another who chews gum in your class after you just said that eating of any form is not allowed in class. As a person of moral ascendancy, you command respect. But these kids don't know any better. However, if you target them as "enemies" because your lessons are often interrupted, it doesn't help the student learn from their mistakes. "Children have the right to commit mistakes. But they also have the right to learn from these mistakes."

Disciplining them outside the classroom is not enough. Calling attention to their mistakes is not enough. A more proactive approach to disciplining would be ideal. I try to involve my students by constantly asking questions, no matter how easy. Sometimes, I just want to hear what they know or what they think about a particular point in the lesson.

I know I sound idealistic. But what's wrong with that if it helps me become a better teacher. Is it wrong to know what I want to do in my class, how I will treat students, and how I want to be treated? Let us not forget that we were all students at some point. We were all once kids craving attention, not really understanding the lesson, minds wandering, or just being plain mischievous. What did you learn from your teacher's scolding?

Students are not enemies. They're simply a reflection of who we were not so long ago.

Checking papers

2010-06-29T13:04:00.000+08:00

I still hate it.

The exhaustion that comes with it.

2010-06-21T21:13:00.002+08:00

My day starts at 5:00am. By 5:30 I should have left the house otherwise I would be late. It takes me about an hour to get to school, where I spend the next nine hours of my day, sometimes even more than that.

You're lucky if you get three classes or less in a day. It takes a toll on your body and your mind. I don't like to use the word "stress" but that's probably what it is. I had four classes today and I had to take an energy drink just to make it through the last two lessons after lunch. It was that bad. It's as if each classroom you enter, your students suck the life out of you as you exert your energy to make the light bulbs in their heads go on. At the end of each day, you have to check their work, record their grades and prepare to do it all over again.

Don't get me wrong, I actually enjoy this abuse. I wouldn't be in this profession if it wasn't for the idea that getting somewhere in life, and helping someone else get somewhere in life involves some form of suffering. Actually, a lot of it.

But the most draining part of my day is the commute back home. A ride that is more or less an hour in the morning takes three hours in reverse. I always sleep in the bus and it's disheartening when you wake up after an hour or so and damn, you're not even halfway there yet. I curse the brilliance behind the Metro Manila road and traffic authorities for their awesome job in planning that the densely populated areas have very small roads. Or it could be that there are just too many damn people in this country. It's too trivial, and I'm too exhausted to even suggest a solution to this perennial problem.

I still count myself fortunate. Imagine the teachers in the most rural areas of the Philippines who travel for about the same amount of time, even on foot, to get to students who travel under the same circumstances. Then they make the most out of meager resources in order to exchange ideas with their students and build their lives from next to nothing. Come to think of it, it's a little price to pay to be part of someone's life. Not everyone gets to do that. It might sound borderline fanatic, but that's why teachers get out of bed every morning and go to sleep willing to do it all over again: That some day one of those kids in that classroom will have the answers to these problems.

First day fairness.

2010-06-17T14:27:00.003+08:00

Since it was the first time I met my classes today, I gave them what to expect from my classes this term. One of my expectations in my classes is "I do unto others what I want done unto me." It speaks of respecting one's self and each other--something to keep things in order. To get to know my students better, I asked them to write things about themselves on a piece of paper, one of them being "One thing you would like to do before you die." I was reading some of the entries that my students had written, when one of my students said, "Sir, ikaw, what's one thing you would like to do before you die?" I wasn't expecting this question and was pleasantly surprised to be asked this. The student reasoned that since I was reading what they would like to do, it would be fair for me to tell them what I would like to do myself.

In the spirit of fairness, I answered that I was doing what I wanted to do with my life: to be at the forefront of "the corruption of the minds of the youth." In other words, to be teaching.

My student was right. I only get out what I put in. So if I want my students to be responsive to my lessons, then I must be responsive to their learning. In the same vein, I coined another expectation in my class: No submission. No grade.

It is somewhat of a paradox to be a teacher and a student at the same time. I was sternly reminded that while I have become a teacher by trade, I am still a student of life and of my profession. It's my job to teach my students, but it's just as well if I learn from them.

If only for my sanity, I write this post.

2010-02-07T21:23:00.000+08:00

I write best when I feel strongly about something. This blog has been stagnant for a while since I simply lost a little interest in it. That’s not to say that I haven’t done a lot of thinking about my profession, which this blog is primarily about. But I was simply at a phase when I was trying to figure out what to do next with my life. And so this blog being not a necessity was neglected.

Nonetheless, a bit has happened since my last post. I worked for a tutorial center over the summer, I finished my thesis, and I graduated. Then after I was employed as an Academic Consultant for Mathematics at the country’s leading tutorial and review center. And here our adventure for today begins.

I was sent here to Cebu on January 18 to substitute for a Math teacher who had been sent to Manila for training. Three days later, he quit. His reasons being too weak to discuss on this blog, I will not bore you with them. But his weak reasons are the very reasons why my stay was extended to nearly a month.

Cebu is not a bad place. There’s good food, the place reminds me of my hometown Port Moresby, and the work’s not as taxing as it was in Manila. But after you’ve seen the place, and when you start realizing that the people you’re living and working with are very much different from you, you just want to go home.

There is much to be desired of my colleagues. You’d want a sensible discussion out of them to foster your intellectual and professional growth. That’s just something I’m not having here. Take this for example:

There is a fine line between being repressed and being curious. When you ask questions about sex without the influence of alcohol, with a smile on your face when there is nothing remotely funny about what you’re asking, you’re repressed.

It bothered me the most that the person asking the question was a female Science teacher 23 years of age. She was asking the gay English teacher about his sexual experiences. She was asking about anal sex. And this happened right after we had just finished having lunch.

Tell me what’s wrong with this situation? Tell me what good I can get out of that?

How about when you show your colleagues a picture of you and your friends from Papua New Guinea, she asks, “What are they, niggers?”? Yes, that’s how educated the English teacher is.

In four days, I’ll be back in Manila. This deployment to Cebu has left me uninspired and wanting. Wanting to get out of here. For fear of my sanity, I have started reading Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, jogging, and talking to my girlfriend as often as I can.

In a month, my contract with this company will expire. I’ve learnt as much as I can and my experiences have exceeded my expectations. However, even with 22 years as an educational institution, this company still has a long way to go. This shows that not only the quality of schools in the Philippines should be raised, but also that of supplementary educational outlets like this one.

The need for good great teachers will never be satisfied. Here’s to working toward being one.

Lesson from a dead man

2009-04-09T13:04:00.000+08:00

Just when I'm debating with myself--at a God forsaken hour, no less (4:48am)--as to what other career choices I can make out of my college education, I come across an unlikely but comely source of enlightenment.

"I'm not saying I'm gonna change the world but I guarantee that I will spark the brain that will change the world." - Tupac Shakur

A parent may not be able to choose his child (yet). A teacher will never be able to choose who his students may be. But both will still play important roles in molding those children.

I'll be damned if I shortchange a proponent of the 5th Generation Kepler Telescope in my class.

What is your profession?

2009-03-25T21:14:00.005+08:00

I've never considered myself a writer. And after my practicum, I don't consider myself a teacher yet.

I met an interesting person in Ronald Macaringal today. I believe he may rub a lot of people the wrong way with his beliefs about what he does. But he's happy to be doing what he loves doing--and that's all that matters. For all his "going against the grain" type of rebellion with a cause personality, he shared one of the most significant things about having a profession.

He's an artist, you see. He creates art, as he says because he can't help but create art. It's his mode of expression when there are things on his mind simply beyond words.

"It starts off with an idea. If I can't write it, I draw it. If I can't draw it, I make a slogan. If I can't make a slogan, I make music. If I can't make music, I paint it."

Something to that effect.

More than anything though, he says, if there's anything that he wants to get across is that artists are just normal people. Nothing sets them apart from any other human being. Like everyone else, they make a choice as to what kind of life they want to live. Just because someone can play the piano does not make them any better than you. They just choose to play the piano. An artist is simply someone who finds creativity in everything they do. They are artists in everything they do. They go to bed as an artist and wake up every morning as an artist.

That is why I don't consider myself as a writer. I don't go to bed thinking like one, and I don't wake up with the sudden need to write something (not unless I wake up at three in the morning to finish a paper due that day). But more pressing is that I don't consider myself a teacher yet. This is even after my practicum, when I believe, is the time that a college student validates whether that is what he wants to be doing for the rest of his life.

It's not that I'm having second thoughts about my course. I still believe I will be the teacher that students will remember. With my practicum over, it was not everything that I expected it to be. Not to make excuses or anything, maybe it was because there were a lot of other things I had to think about. I had a publication that I had obligations to. I had deadlines to meet with my studies. I had responsibilities with my family. I was working three nights a week.

Consequently, I did not fall in love with my students. I did not go out of my way to teach the way I really would have wanted to teach. I rarely got to tell a joke to start off a class. I did not create for myself the magic to be had in being part of the life of another person.

In the end I realize that I have always enjoyed being a student more than anything. I have always woken up looking forward to enter a classroom to sit down, and wait for an opportunity to annoy the teacher. Perhaps I have deviated from that wonder over the last year...and I miss it.

You, what do you go to sleep and wake up in the morning as?

Is it that bad?

2009-03-05T21:14:00.003+08:00

I haven't written anything in a while, especially updating my Practicum Chronicles. It's because I seriously forgot what went down on one particular week and I got stuck not knowing what to write about it. That's why the succeeding weeks, although eventful, have had to wait.

In other news, I have been putting off writing about one of my professors this term. His last name rhymes with an Indian hat, he turns red when his students bullshit him about his looks, and he dresses like a cowboy. For this matter, we'll call him Mr. Actual.

Now, I figure that Mr. Actual is one smart man. He has an MBA from a well-known regional business school, and he's taking up his doctorate studies. I really think he's a good person with other people--as in other people must really dig him. But he's a person I just don't think I will ever come to like. Not that it matters to him or I.

I don't know if my classmates notice this but every lesson, every single concept comes with an example that is "some sort of what we call" OOC. My high school English teacher wrote "OOC" on our essays when we had examples for concepts that were "Out Of Context." Not only this, but in a subject that touches on cultural relativism, it should be idiotic to generalize things and pass them off as fact.

Here's a typical lesson in his class: (I'll use today's class)
The topic is on sex, race and its effects on educational opportunities. So he's trying to illustrate how students' expectations after graduation vary depending on sex. He suddenly asks who wants to teach abroad after they graduate. So being the honest man that I am, I raise my hand. Thinking this will be a fruitful discussion, I anticipate him asking "Why?".

But I was wrong and eventually disappointed. The discussion goes on to how "you need to pay $20,000 to the agency before you can go and teach abroad." By "abroad" he means the United States of America. So here he is talking about how hard it is to land a job "abroad," the qualifications you need, the years of teaching you need, the schools you need to be teaching in, how much you will spend, what agency should be affiliated to what government department, blah, blah, blah, blah.

This discussion was so off the topic that I just had to close my eyes to doze off, thinking when I wake up, we'll be on the next concept and I'll just listen then. I mean come on Mr. Brokeback Mountain, what worked for a friend of your brother-in-law's cousin's nephew of your neighbor's sister's uncle's father's mother's daughter's husband working "abroad" won't necessarily work for everyone else. I know you're just trying to give advice to us who will face the music once we graduate but what happened to relativism and not having a formula because it can work differently for different people who have different ways of going about it.

Another thing sir, I don't want to be paid in dollars anyway. I want to be paid in Euros. And just in case your narrow, assuming mind did not get that, I'll make it clearer for you: I don't give a fuck!

Oh, and if this has any relevance, here's what I had to say in class:

The reason why I want to work in the real "abroad" is that I don't buy into the whole "serve your country" bullshit. It's not that I don't care about the Philippines, and earning money is relative to how you spend it anyway. It's just that I want to travel the world and see different parts of it and really know it. I hate people butting into conversations just so they can say something about how they know someone who knows someone who went to this place and did this thing. I want to meet people of different cultures and leave with them a thing or two about what I know. I want to learn from them and experience their lifestyle. Eat their food and not say I've had Itallian food after eating at Sbarro. I want to have students of different races and religions. I want my teaching experience to be rich with the diversity of the students that I will get to share my life with. Through my students I learn about the world and life and the beauty of it not to be suppressed by small minded teachers everywhere.

Most of all, why limit teaching minds, touching hearts, and transforming lives to just one country when you can teach minds, touch hearts, and transform lives all over the world. When you know you can and want to reach wider than your own country, is that really so bad?

In the meantime, I'm glad I met you Mr. Actual. At least I know what kind of attitude not to bring with me on my travel.

Eagle Eye and National Anthems

2009-02-21T22:26:00.004+08:00

I just finished watching Eagle Eye, and although it was stupid how the computer thing was stopped--sticking a metal rod into the "eye"--it was more than just a dystopian movie.

Orwell's "Big Brother" was once again used, with the government building a computer that watches and controls anything that ran on electrical signals. I didn't buy into the AI taking over every electronic gadget shit. We're at least another generation away from that happening.

What got my attention was Jerry Shaw's embodiment of taking a bullet for the country. Symbolic, too, as he was shot when the Star Spangled Banner was playing.

I've always liked that song. It is a tribute to courage and a song of victory.

I hold an even higher regard, of course, for our own National Anthem.

Listening to the Philippines' Lupang Hinirang sends chills down my spine. Throughout the song I picture our ancestors (complete with katipunero hat and red scarves tied around their necks) on a hilltop waving the Philippine flag.

Their display of love for country is admirable. In our present day, circumstances have changed. It's hard to find an average citizen display such nationalism. Perhaps this could be because, the threat to the liberty that (as has often been said) is taken for granted is nowhere near comparable.

I must admit, until now I still can't sing the song from start to finish. To honor the brave souls, I guess the least I can do is to learn the song.

The Practicum Chronicles - January 30th 2009

2009-02-10T22:22:00.006+08:00

A Doctor by 30.

That's not a bad goal, is it?

The English Faculty of my practicum school is a mixture of young and old, fresh blood and veterans. What interests me are the younger teachers currently taking their Master's degrees. One of them is "Mr. McGrady." Also a graduate of La Salle, I think I heard he's about 26.

That just got me thinking. If this guy was 26, and he's in his second year of Post-Graduate studies, then he can earn his PhD by the age of 30. If someone can do that, then why can't I?

Hence, my new career goal: Dr. Landayan, at the prime age of 30.

I know that there is a lot more involved than just taking up the necessary requirements of a post-graduate degree. Experience in the field is a key factor in making one more knowledgeable about this chosen career path. By at least considering a possibility, I declare myself already applying to be admitted into a PhD in Science Education, Specializing in Mathematics.

Write a textbook by the time I'm 32? Why not?

"You get points for trying."

***

Update

I just found out that Mr. McGrady is only 23. That cuts my doctor year down by three. But I'll cut it to only two. Doctor by 28 it is. Textbook author by 30.

Written on a bus ride

2009-02-08T15:45:00.004+08:00

Bus rides are love-hate affairs.

I hate it when there's a TV in the bus but crap is on it. Take Luna Mystika for example: a disfigured "princess" in a sibling rivalry with a shadow--how compelling. Worse still was when I got on a bus in Ortigas and a pirated copy of Twilight was on. I got off the bus as soon as I could to get on another one.

But buses can be a great place to read. The paradoxical solitude among all those commuters makes for a pleasant atmosphere to enjoy a book.

Then there are times like this afternoon. I chanced upon a bus playing some 90s rock.

Alamid (arguably the 90s Cueshe, only 20 times more superior); After Image with a crooning Wency Cornejo; Color It Red and a throaty Cookie Chua; Introvoys and their one hit Line to Heaven; Rivermaya that still had Bamboo doing his best Kurt Cobain; Parokya ni Edgar and their timeless anthems; and of course, the epitome of Philippine rock in the Eraserheads.

Just listening to Alapaap and Buloy brought me back to Sunday morning drives of my childhood, when the family would go out swimming or fishing.

"Simple pleasures," I thought, "just like this bus ride."

The Practicum Chronicles - Jan 29th 2009

2009-02-02T21:08:00.002+08:00

Something's missing

Teaching in High 3B was somewhat a vindication for me. After my "performance" (more on this subject later), I felt that I really belonged here--that I am a teacher. Although I was satisfied after the lesson, I just felt as if there were some things about teaching that I didn't want to be doing.

On top of this list would be in disciplining the students. It just seems unnecessary. I know it's part of the job, but sometimes the "kids" act very immature for their age that it's easy to grow weary. You end up thinking, "I don't need this shit."

It's easier to teach without having to worry about being rudely interrupted by some kid who just wants attention. Not that I don't have compassion for the troubled child, but hey, let me finish my lesson first, you're not the only student here.

That is why I feel that some time in the future, I will be longing for a crack to teach in college. I hope there will be less of this disciplining. Students genuinely more interested in learning rather than just making school a venue to socialize would also be preferable.

Maybe what they said about student-teacher karma is true: If you were mean to your teacher in the past, your students will be mean to you.

I don't consider them mean just yet. I'm not alien to this behavior, I was once a kid too (as a matter of fact, I still sometimes am).

The Practicum Chronicles - Jan 28th 2009

2009-02-01T11:30:00.001+08:00

Can't say "Oops!"

You know the feeling when you're at an important function and your stomach starts to hurt? Not that of hunger but when you've either had too much or had something you weren't supposed to have, know that feeling? Sweat starts to break on your forehead and you're wishing time would move faster so that the function would end. You want to excuse yourself but have no other reason to so you try to hold it in because you don't want to be embarrassed by your state...

That's what it feels like when you realize you have just made a crucial mistake in what you're teaching and it's too late in the lesson to correct it.

After today's lesson with 1B, I know that now.

I didn't correct my mistake because I realized it late. Also, teachers have told me before not to admit major mistakes in class right away. There is always the next day's lesson to make it right again. It's different experiencing it for yourself. It's not pretty.

My students weren't the only ones who had homework that day.

The Practicum Chronicles - Jan 27th 2009

2009-01-29T21:46:00.005+08:00

Witty comeback #2

During a Short Test in 1C:

"Pooh" just made a mistake in drawing an unnecessary graph. He's trying to borrow an eraser of some sort so he's asking everyone around him. The said eraser never materializes so he has to resort to calling even the kid in the front row--Pooh sits right at the back. He's starting to disturb the entire class, and mind you, this was a test.

"Eraser, eraser. Sino may eraser?"

I slowly walk up to him, whiteboard eraser in hand. I offer, "O, diba naghahanap ka ng eraser?"

He didn't see it coming, and neither did the rest of the class. For a good 30 seconds, the class was in fits. Even my Cooperating Teacher couldn't suppress her giggle.

Poor Pooh, "Ay Sir, hindi po sir. Eraser po ng lapis. Sorry Sir."

Who would have thought?

2009-01-29T11:20:00.002+08:00

I am writing this in the faculty lounge of my practicum school. I've already fallen asleep 30 minutes ago and I can't get back to work.

Checking papers is not for me. The task, although methodical, is regretably clerical.

And I thought I went into teaching to get away from a desk job.

The Practicum Chronicles - Jan 23rd 2009

2009-01-28T21:04:00.002+08:00

Pasaway!

Parallel and perpendicular lines were the order of the day. I'm up in front teaching, and "Pooh" is at the back trying to solve his Rubik's cube. So without missing a beat in my lecture I walk up to him.

"Pahiram sandali."

What followed was an example of how I surprise even myself with my brash actions at a sudden rush of blood to the head.

"Ok class. You see this here? What lines are running through the Rubik's cube? Are there any parallel lines? Are there any perpendicular lines?

"As you can see, you can learn a lot about parallel and perpendicular lines from a Rubik's cube. Just don't do it in my class!"

Rapport is something

2009-01-28T21:03:00.002+08:00

We didn't have classes on Monday Jan. 23rd to give way to the Chinese New Year. I took this time to visit my Practicum Supervisor and just chat her up on my progress. I was telling her about my follies and of course expected some wisdom in return. Indeed she delighted me with a short spiel on gaining the students' trust.

Any relationship is a power struggle, true. A harmonious relationship is one in which a certain compromise as to how much power one wields and yields is beneficial to all involved.

A teacher-student relationship is no different. The students want you to succumb to their every whim, while you try to drown out their whining and open up their minds. A teacher will not be able to do this by the drowning out alone. There is always that challenge of earning their respect, and most of all their trust. There is no one formula that will work for all teachers and for all students. But once such is achieved by the teacher, the student will be more willing to be part of a harmonious relationship.

From what my Supervisor told me, and from my own experience as a Practicumer and tutor, I know that now.

I'm working my way to that balance. I must tell you, this was part of the lure that brought me to teaching. Every day is a challenge to come up with something new, just to keep renewing that relationship, and keeping their sense of wonder alive.

∞ no. of days X ∞ no. of students = ∞ (infinitely) challenging

The Practicum Chronicles - Jan 22nd 2009

2009-01-27T00:44:00.004+08:00

Late! with Persistent Peter

Sometime during my practicum, I knew this was going to be a problem. I am not a morning person, and as my mom put it, "Of all the people of a school, you're the one that had to be late."

Embarrassing? Yes. Life-threatening? No.

I guess one-out-of-two is not so bad.

So I missed homeroom and first period but I more than made up for it in the second

High School - 1B has this annoyingly inquisitive kid named "Peter." To me, he is an enigma. I'm not sure if he's asking questions because he genuinely doesn't know, to piss me off, or he's some kind of genius just over-analyzing everything.

Case in point, when I was teaching the slope of a line and its formula, the kid asked me, "So, sir, where on the line is the slope?"

I had to explain that the "slope" is not anywhere on the line. It is a characteristic of the line. It can be found using the formula when you are given two points, or by the ratio of the change in height respective to the change in length.

"So, m is the slope? Ok. So where is the slope?"

Jabin: ... (face palms)

I understand, the kid doesn't get it...yet. I was getting impatient because he was holding up my lesson. But hey, isn't he the type of student that teachers prepare for? Every class has their Peter. I think I was my class' Peter back in high school. Well, we were all a bunch of Peters. But Persistent Peters serve their purpose of being a good indication if a good portion of the class has learned or not. In statistics, he would be the median.

Get through to Peter, and you know that at least one kid has learned something for the day. I did.

The Practicum Chronicles - Jan 21st 2009

2009-01-26T22:56:00.003+08:00

Candy man

If it's motivation she wants, it's motivation she gets.

Something that I've picked up from experience is that all kids are inherently playful. At the mention that there will be a game, even the dozing twit at the back of the classroom will sit up in attention.

Today I played a game with my High School - 1C class. It was my version of my co-teacher's recitation in 1A earlier that morning. Simple mathematics fill-in-the-blanks: form the equation.

In 1A earlier that day, the motivation of a good grade in recitation was not enough for the young kids. They wanted something tangible, something more material. I know this because I had been in their shoes not so long ago. Even in college these fleeting rewards were enough to trump the prospect of extra class participation grades.

y = mx + b

(Form the equation given the slope and the y-intercept)

I would select five volunteers to come to the whiteboard (yes, it was that kind of school), call out an m and a b,and they would out-equate each other to form the equation of the line to get a prize. Nothing fancy, just some Jack 'n' Jill Wiggles (those chocolate-coated mallows). But it's still a prize the kids lapped up to perfection.

So candy it was, that got their attention. Especially when the "smartest" students in class went head-to-head in one round, the entire class was cheering. What was even more fun for me was imagining the faces of the kids in the next classroom and them thinking, "What in the world is all that noise? Damn, I wish I was in that class right now."

Maybe tomorrow, kids. Maybe tomorrow.

The Practicum Chronicles - Jan 20th 2009

2009-01-26T21:16:00.003+08:00

Motivation is integral to learning. Consider it the fuel to a fire; a key to a door.

In a lesson plan, the motivation usually comes in the beginning. But in the actual lesson it can be scattered everywhere throughout the actual teaching.

It may be tangible, as in a hotdog; or intangible, as LouAnn Johnson said in Dangerous Minds, "Learning...Education. That is the prize."

But after today's lesson with High School 1B, my cooperating teacher asked me, "Nasaan yung motivation mo?"

"Eh ma'am, 'di pa po ba sapat yung motivation ko na gusto ko sila matuto?"

"Sira! Yung motivation para dun sa mga bata! Matuto ka diyan!"

Of course I knew what she was talking about, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to be playful about something so serious. I'll be honest here, I am a student just as much as these kids. My extrinsic motivation would naturally be grades. But the intrinsic motivation is where all students differ--no two students will have the exact same intrinsic motivation.

Personally, my motivation is to practice now what I will be doing for the rest of my life. Not to sound confident or anything--I still cringe at the thought that I will forget to teach something or to teach the wrong thing--but that is why being nervous in front of the class seems like a foreign concept. It's just practice. One has to believe that he will eventually become good at it.

Practice is a good motivation. Motivation is a good practice.

Next lesson, I know just the trick.

The Practicum Chronicles - Jan 19th 2009

2009-01-26T01:38:00.000+08:00

During a Long Test in High School - 1C

Student (to me): Sir! Sir! Ano yung "quadrant"?
Me: Hindi ba tinuro sa inyo yun nung first lesson?
Student: Sir, nakalimutan ko na eh.
Me: Eh bakit hindi ka nag review? (Walks off)

I thought to myself, "Dumbass! A test and you expect me to give you a hint. Are you out of your mind? Are you even thinking? Hmmm...apparently not right now."

Wondering about the worlds of the oppressed

2009-01-24T22:39:00.000+08:00

I read an excerpt of Paulo Freire's Pedagogy of the Oppressed in a book I borrowed for my Social Dimensions in Education class. It talks about the use of education as a medium of control. It details how teachers can execute a curriculum directly influenced by the intentions of persons of authority to impose their will on the future of a particular society. This is done through the pedagogy (art/method of teaching) that teachers are instructed or taught to teach in. Instead of opening up the child's mind, "liberating" is what Freire used, the teacher uses education to program the child to function in a particular way as part of society.

This is similar to the world that Philip Dick pictured in Ubik, Alan Moore in V for Vendetta, and George Orwell in 1984. In these three alternate portrayals of the world we live in, there is a higher power determined to control what people will think, say and do. This higher power is ready to smite those that show signs of being against it.

In any case, I just got to wondering, if ever the complete droning of society is achieved, what will break the system, if ever the system will be broken? If the complete droning of society is achieved, the only conflict that could result in change would be between those in authority themselves--not between common inhabitants of society, and certainly not between the common inhabitants of society and those in authority. If education is infiltrated to be used as the primary instrument in indoctrinating the system into its inhabitants, then where else will the change come from?

It is hard to bank on having people that are exceptions to the rule in such a society. Even if they are born gifted, the indoctrination through "education" should easily stamp it out. This works because the minds of the children know nothing else--the people will know no other way of how and why things work. It is hard to imagine not having a sense of wonder.

Without it, these writers would not have been able to come up with what they wrote. Without it, you would not be reading this right now.

The Practicum Chronicles - Jan 16th 2009

2009-01-24T00:58:00.000+08:00

Things I learnt on my first (official) day at Practicum

High School - 1A
0700 - 0730 -- Home Room

- Writing your name on the board and asking the students how it's pronounced is not a good idea.
- Awkward (cricket-inducing) silences are...awkward.
- Remember, you are as yet, an alien to these kids. The novelty of your pressence still exists. Their stares can linger for two minutes.

0730 - 0835 -- First Period

Observing the class
- When the teacher surprises you that you're teaching in the next period, don't just stare at her--say something!

The teacher told me that the high school supervisor (the one in charge) told her to let me teach a class to get hands-on experience...and fast. So without a lesson plan, without mental preparation, it was supposed to be a baptism of fire. "No big deal, this is what you came for," I thought to myself. I was ready...I think.

High School - 1B
0835 - 0940 -- Second Period

First Class
It's not fear that you feel like what teachers say about going into their first class. It's some form of excitement three years in the making. All sorts of questions run through your head, but none of it stays long enough for you to answer. Actually, it's not even as dramatic as I'm making it to be.

The lesson was on graphing linear equations. I wasn't surprised that I got through the class on time, considering the four different concepts we had to cover. This was a little too much for young 12, 13 year olds to swallow. I vaguely remember taking these topics in my third year. And here, these kids in their first year of high school were trying to cover at least three days' worth of concepts in one 65-minute period.

So on it was through a linear equation, plotting the points, drawing the line, calculating for the distance, calculating for the slope. At the equation of a line given two points, disaster struck. MENTAL BLOCK! I could hardly recall that there were three variables and one of each for x and y had to be without subscripts. Dammit, I knew I should have paid more attention in class.

Rookie mistake. It hits us all. I asked my cooperating teacher where I went wrong. She quickly pointed out that I had not completely lost it yet. That my segue into the equation of a line given a slope and one point did the trick. Not that big of a harm done, on with the lesson.

Relief. At the end of the period, I got mixed reviews, according to my cooperating teacher. Half of the students she talked to said they fully understood what I was teaching, the other half either just stayed mum (not necessarily a good or bad thing), or said I went a bit too fast and it became confusing. I see room for improvement.

"It matters not how you start or finish. The most important part is how you get there."

This was the lesson I told myself I would impart with my students. I remember that like them, I am still a student. In my practicum, as in their seat works, assignments, short tests, long tests, and eventually final exams: "I don't care about your answer, I can easily copy what my friend writes. What I am looking for, what is more important is your solution. That is the real final answer."

Underline it, will you?

There is a reason

2009-01-20T21:36:00.000+08:00

There are reasons why I'm doing what I'm doing now, waking up at 5 each morning and having my day end at 9 in the evening. Because I want to; and because I can.

Only the best will do
I only decided to become a teacher when I was in fourth year high school. For my first three years of high school, I was convinced on becoming a computer engineer. My grades and interests pointed toward that.

But being in school was the only thing I could think of when I asked myself what I've really been good at throughout my life. Being a teacher is something I believed at that time was something I could excel in--I still believe this today.

Anywhere in the world, teachers are relatively low-wage earners. That's why I wasn't surprised to hear sob stories of teachers here in the Philippines being overworked, and underpaid. What I was surprised to hear was how teachers were seen as of the relatively low-level intellectuals. That's a little offensive, don't you think?

Considering the history of wise elderly, philosophical kings, and the learned being the teachers in the ancient times, this would not only be an insult to the profession, but an indication of how much the regard for education has changed. Hey, the services of the likes of Socrates and Archimedes were only afforded by the royals and highly affluent.

In any case, I've always regarded teachers to be some of the smartest people in the world. Come to think of it, it's flawed for Filipinos, especially the "elite," to look down on teachers. You wouldn't want your children to be taught by a dumbass, now, would you?

"Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach."
That's an actual Chinese proverb. There's another proverb. It goes...

"Those who can...well, fuck you!"

I won't take shit from some Chinese proverb.

Seriously though, for an individual to be all that they can be, they must be surrounded by those that can bring out the best in them. That's what teachers are for. That's what we "do."

And as we go along, we don't hope, we make it happen--changing the world one kid at a time.

This is what it's about
Similar to how I initially felt about the prestige of being an engineer, being in the profession of teaching is like being in a fraternity. There is just some unspoken respect between those in the profession of teaching. I believe the same goes for any profession.

I won't go on about a teacher's modesty or how it's the noblest profession there is (Durkheim implied that prostitutes consider their "job" noble).

Rather, I am a student just as much as I am a teacher. Aren't we all? At one point or another, we shared our knowledge with someone else. And do we ever stop being students?

And that's what's this blog is about. The thoughts may be disjointed at times, but it's about being the perennial student that man is supposed to be.

I welcome you to reflections on my life (so far)--written as it unfolds, written knowing what I know now.