Kimmy Schemy

Archive for the ‘teacher’s journal’ Category

On my first year of teaching in a review center, I handled a boy and a girl, third year and second year respectively. They are siblings and they were probably among the, excuse me, the least good of students I have handled. The boy was in better shape than the girl who had a hard time remembering four items from her notebook. They were not lazy. They were not brats. They simply weren’t.. very smart.

I always felt frustrated every time I teach them because I felt as if I was not good enough. Consequently, they weren’t my most favorite students.

Then one day, their mother paid us a visit and talked to me. She asked me how her kids were doing. Eaten by prejudice, I told her how her children were and everything I said was, as I remember it now, not the nicest things to hear. I didn’t say they were stupid, nor did I say they were hopeless, but I didn’t say they were trying their best either.

She thanked me, sincerely, and told me that she knew that her children were not smart. She told me how every night she prayed that her children make it though their lessons, how much she wished she can teach her children herself, but unfortunately she lacked the skills nor the patience that we, teachers, do have. She told me that she knew her children weren’t bright but that she had to do everything she could possibly do so that they will learn. She said she appreciate us for doing the very thing she could not do for her children. She thanked me one more time and left.

Humbled by this mother’s love for her children and ashamed for what I felt for those children, I spent several minutes looking at my desk feeling rotten. After a while, I forgave myself and promised never to look down on anyone and do the best I can for any student that will come my way..

After all, I am a mother, too…

Happy Mother’s Day!

Shane* was in grade five when she became my student. She was a smart and polite girl. Though she was obviously doing well in class, she was out-shadowed by her more accomplished and more popular elder brother, Luke*.

Sometime last year, Shane and her brother were enrolled to me for speech enhancement. As was customary, I asked their mother if there was any particular reason why she enrolled them. The mother, very excitedly, told me that Luke was about to join a competition in the near future and the speech enhancement was a preparation. I said that was very nice. When I asked her about Shane, she simply shrugged and said..

‘Don’t mind her much, focus on Luke…. I just enrolled her as Luke’s companion..’

I sincerely hoped she didn’t mean that. But as the program progressed, I noticed that the mother regularly asked about Luke’s performance but never about Shane. What pained mo more was that I knew Shane was working harder than Luke was. In fact, she was doing even better than her brother. She was diligent and responsible. She was polite and obedient. Why her mother could not see Shane’s efforts escaped me.

At the end of the program, I gave a final report on the children’s performances. Deliberately, I showed Shane’s evaluation first, but when I started talking, she cut me short and impatiently said that they had an appointment and couldn’t stay long. She requested for Luke’s performance evaluation and when I explained everything to her satisfaction, she took the papers, stuffed them in her purse and bid me goodbye. But before they got completely out of the office, Shane looked back and thanked me.

I know favoritism is a common thing, but it still hurts when you see it up close..

*not real names

For the past four summers, I spent six days a week teaching in the review and tutorial center where I used to work.  Most of the students were those of College Entrance Test Review and High School Entrance Test Review. Smarter kids usually take up advancement lessons, whereas kids with difficulties take enhancement lessons.

I also handled Speech Programs for those who wanted to develop their speaking and communication skills. But my favorite has always been and will always be my Reading Program where I taught youngsters, four to five years of age, to read words with short vowel sounds, long vowel sounds and consonant blends.

I wouldn’t say it was the easiest, but it sure was the most rewarding. You now why? Because the fruit of your labor is reaped the same day. The moment a child reads his first word, you are instantly rewarded.

This was the usual scenario at the center..

Speech Graduation Day..

See how toxic my days were? But at least I could still smile when a camera was around, right? Now, do I miss those days? Well… NOT AT ALL!

Last year, I had a student in reading. She surely was a smart six year-old girl. However, she had an attitude. She always made me feel I was not as good as her teachers in school. She made me feel impoverished with her stories of living luxuriously (which I believe was unintentional because she had no idea they have so much money) and she made me feel she didn’t need a tutor, me, because she was smart.

As what I do to all my students, I found ways to get along well with her. But it seems like she was making life difficult for both us. She read silently when I asked her to read out loud. She messed up her work sheets, she pretended to be so sleepy probably hoping I would send her home. Even one time, she said her tummy was aching so I had to call her nanny only to tell me it was false alarm and the nanny whispered at my ear..

‘Teacher, she’s just making it up…’

I came to the point that I secretly wished she would cancel a session. She didn’t, except during her ballet recital and that was only once. I flattered, though, that she kept on enrolling my program. I took it that her mother thought I was doing my job right.

Last month, I passed by the center and saw her with the teacher who replaced me. She got up as soon as she saw me and ran to me. She called my name and hugged me.

I was so touched. A gesture like that coming from a student who, I’ve always felt, didn’t like me was.. really something. I hugged her back and asked her how she was. She instantly recovered her poise and became as formal as I remember her to be, but her eyes told me she missed me.

I suddenly felt happy and proud of who and what I am… a teacher who makes a difference..

Joey* was in grade six when he became my student. He was smart alright. But there was something about him that was unpleasant. He was a bit arrogant.

He wasn’t as polite as other students. He answered as if I were his own age and showed boredom when I discussed something he thought he already knew and treated it as unimportant. There were even times that I felt he looked down on us, teachers, as if daring us to teach more. The results of his tests, however, showed he wasn’t as smart as he believed himself to be. He may be a smart kid but not exceptional one.

Then, one time, his mother came to pick him up. She asked me about his son. So, I discussed Joey’s strengths and weaknesses as I normally do. She appeared dismayed that Joey wasn’t able to get perfect scores. Regardless of what I said that Joey was among those who performed well. Then, just when I thought she was leaving, her husband arrived.

I had to repeat what I already said and if the mother was dismayed, the father was disgusted. He started to berate the poor boy in front of me. He made it clear to the boy that he was not going to any other high school, but a Science High School. Being a graduate of a science high school himself, he couldn’t understand why Joey was having difficulty getting high scores in the review center.

I suddenly felt sorry for Joey. As a parent myself, I understand how parents want the best for their children. But I guess they are not supposed to turn their kids into something they aren’t.

*not real name

In one of my job interviews, I was asked why I didn’t take up Education course when I wanted to be a teacher. The real reason is that, I was already in third year when I realized it, moreover, if ever I become a teacher, Psychology subject is what I wanted to teach, and that’s the answer I gave during the job interview. I wasn’t accepted, but it was the time I realized how much I wanted to become a teacher more than anything else.

Unlike other teachers who were inspired or encouraged by their former teachers, I became one because it was what I wanted to do. I’ve always had this need to explain, to inform, to research, and to show other people the easier way through things and I guess I’m good at it.

Since I joined this noblest of professions, I started to find ways to be better in what I do. I read books about teachers like Tuesdays With Morrie and Dibs, In Search of Self and I watched films like Dead Poets’ Society and Mona Lisa Smile.

Then, this Holy Week, I opened the Bible and read about the greatest teacher of all.. Jesus. I know I wouldn’t even come close to His greatness but I would always try with my whole heart to be the best teacher I could ever be.

He came to Jesus by night and said, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher from God; for no one can do these miracles which you are doing, unless God is with him.

John 3:2

As I was checking out my notifications in my Facebook account last week, I found out that I was tagged a picture by my friend, Lee Viray Cahili, the well-known photographer. It was a picture of his new Photography Studio.

I felt flattered that even though we haven’t seen each other much these past few years, he still wanted me to know what’s going on with his life right now.

When I featured him in my blog last year as a birthday present, he thanked me by posting this on my Facebook wall..

“hi kim thank you! you don’t know how much you made an impact on who i am and how i think now. for that maraming salamat kaibigan.”

As if it wasn’t enough, he posted this on his Facebook wall..

“She was not my mother not even my teacher but the things I learned from her helped me become who i am and how i am today. Salamat Kim Agustin Laxa for this gift on my birthday! ”

Honestly, I can no longer remember how I helped him be what he is right now. I have some vague memory, though,  of our long talks and endless arguments way back in college. Even then, I was the teacher he probably didn’t want yet a significant part of his life.

For my friend, Lee, good luck to all your endeavors..

As a teacher, I wonder why other teachers terrorize students.

One of my childhood friends didn’t even finish the second grade because she was humiliated by her teacher. She never went back to school.

I, myself, experienced being embarrassed by a teacher in the entire class. I am an English teacher but I wasn’t that good in Math. I passed, yes, but I didn’t excel and it seemed like my professor took satisfaction in making me a laughingstock. Fortunately, my classmates knew I was good in other subjects, so no one laughed at me, and if someone did, he or she made sure I didn’t hear it.

I have always loved school, but even I learned to hate it because of teachers like that. That’s the time I decided I want to be a teacher and if I become one, I will never, ever, be like that. I would not intimidate students, rather, I would make them feel it’s ok to be wrong, and I will help them learn what is right. I will not simply teach lessons but I will teach students to love learning.

There are times that I, too, can be difficult, but not unreasonable. I’d rather be disliked by a few just as long as they learn from me. I prefer to be liked not because I’m kind but because I’m good.

Sooner or later, I will go back to teaching and I’ll make sure I’m still the teacher I’ve always been

The first time I saw Val, I thought he was one difficult student to handle. He seemed.. slow. He kept on forgetting his lessons, his books, his schedules and every time his mom brings him to the center, she always has something unpleasant to say about her son. And when you hear her, it seems like Val is the most hopelessly stupid person in the whole wide world.

I was right. He was difficult to handle. For one, he doesn’t want to learn. He was one lazy boy who doesn’t care whether he learns or not. Second, he always acts stupid, probably hoping we would just give up on him and send him home. Finally, he seems to be using the center to rebel against his mother. He wouldn’t attend the session because when his mother calls, she would be extremely furious when she finds out he ditched a session.

So, when his mother presented a letter from the principal with instructions to focus on his English subject, I felt doomed. But whether I like it or not,  I had to do my job, no, not to teach him, but to let him like to learn. So, knowing his attitude towards studies, I started with the basic, and I mean, lessons that he already took and that may seem easy for him to answer. As customary, I was lavish with praises for correct answers and infinitely patient with incorrect answers.

He seemed to like it. That is.. he liked to be credited for doing well and being shown patience for things he couldn’t do that well. He started coming regularly and on time. Well, that was a change. Then, we started to talk like old friends, and I learned that his mom nags him every single day of his life and finds it a pleasant habit to rant at him even about things that are beyond him.

I haven’t noticed that he was actually improving until he showed me a test paper with only five incorrect answers. Well, THAT’s a major change. Then, I realized he wasn’t slow at all. He is actually good and he still has much room for improvement. And I was happy for him.

I learned, though, that he stopped attending sessions since I resigned. Well, I want to think he doesn’t need a tutor anymore, otherwise, I would feel a little guilty for turning my back on him..

For Val, study as hard as you used to do. I know you can do it even without me. Make me and yourself proud

Weena was four years* old when she enrolled at the center where I used to work. She was a pretty and smart little thing whom everybody likes.

It was her father who takes her to the center and we learned that her mother was working abroad. So, we were kind of excited when we learned that her mother arrived. We wanted her mother to see how smart Weena is and we want to show-off the new things she learned from the center.

We were disappointed, though, when Weena’s mother came. She didn’t talk to us or to anyone. She was texting on her cell phone all through out the session never even looking at what Weena was doing with her classmates. When the session ended. She just stood beside her husband and waited for the time to go. Contrary to what we expected from mothers who come from working abroad, she didn’t ask for Weena’s progress or performance in class. When Weena came out, she didn’t stretch her arms to give her a hug or ask her about the class, like the other mothers waiting outside. She just continued texting.

Weena, then, took her father’s hand and walked beside him as if she didn’t see her mother. She smiled and waved at us and gave each of us flying kisses then she hopped-skipped out of the center. Her mother came with her father two more times and the same thing happened.

If only Weena doesn’t have her mother’s eyes and mouth, we would think that the lady wasn’t her mother. Well, maybe, she just wasn’t showy or sweet like other mothers. But thinking of Weena and how charming and sweet the girl is, even a total stranger would be smitten.

Last I heard, the mother was back abroad..

*not real name