The Guy From St. Ezekiel

        I am staring at the billions of fictional wish granting dots that are shimmering in the sky and seemingly laughing at me because I am foolish enough to still make a wish out of a fire ball. Well, if you are that hopeless romantic 7^th grader who happens to be enamored, enchanted and allured to an 8^th grader , whose name should not be mentioned for fear that the test- takers might laugh, you would do fatuous things. I am not proud admitting to anyone that I fell so hard but it is better to be stupid than to never had felt love ever.

          It was the first day of school and I was freaking late.  I remembered waking up so early that day but choosing the perfect OOTD consumed all my time. When I arrived, the flag ceremony had started and I had to wait for the whole rite to end. Fortunately, the latecomers were allowed to join the line when the patriotic pledge was recited. I ran and joined the line along with the other newbies. Already soaked with sweat, I aimed for my hankie and clumsily dropped it to the floor. I tried to use my peripheral vision to see who’s adjacent to me and my two eyes landed on an ethereal sight of a gorgeous creature.  I couldn’t stop staring, it is as if my eyes were designed to stare at this creation to feast, to appreciate and to LOVE? “Ohh, my God! You freaking idiot! What are you doing?” I said to myself admitting that it was a preposterous thing to do. “Instead of feasting that guy, why don’t you pick that hankie of yours and compose yourself” my logical self told me again.

After the morning activity, I picked up my hankie slowly so that I could have a better view to the guy adjacent to me. The teacher with a long straight hair held the microphone and said something that didn’t register to my senses because I was staring at him. Everything went mute. Time stopped. Heavy breathing. Everything felt right. I tried to smile. He ignored me.  It was not the most ideal way to start a school year but I thought it was the perfect opening for me to have something to hope for every day.

        Weeks past, I started to get some minor information about him. His friends are Jebu, Mark and Patrick and that he is close with Hannah, Shinley, Cheska and Alayne from St. Rita. Even though I couldn’t get near to him because we don’t have common friends. I can still access some details about him through Ate Riza who happens to be a walking encyclopedia about him. I also suspect that she likes him. She seems insecure whenever I start talking about him.  Well, we can never tell.

         Acquaintance party came and I thought it was the suited moment for introductions. When Ate Rica from ARSC let us play the “Bagay, Tao, Bagyo” I thought it was my chance.  The mechanics of the game was simple. It is just like playing Open the Basket except that when the host says “Bagyo”, we need to scamper and look for open homes. I tried to navigate him through my infallible eyes and located his position with a devastating confirmation that he is with Ate Danica Nicole. The hosts said “Bagyo” which was the cue for us to scatter. I ran fast as I could to be in his arms but a large build body bumped me and made me tripped down butt first.

        “Excuse me Miss! Are you okay” that panira moment guy said.

        “ Yeah, I’m fine.” I said pithily.

        “ I’m Clint by the way”, he said.

         “ Sure! Thanks for bumping me” I said sarcastically.

        “No problemus! It was nice bumping you anyway” he smiled playfully and left.

I tried to look again for my guy and can’t seem to find him so I carelessly walked backwards and bumped to something solid again. I was about to nag but when I looked up it was him. Everything went mute. Time stopped. Heavy breathing. Everything felt right. I tried to smile. And he smiled at me too. I tried to regain my strength so I can get up but my knees were trembling and my heart exploded into thousands of butterflies. The night, though was imperfect, felt magical because I had my encounter with the guy from St. Ezekiel.

After that night, I spent the entire month of the school year dreaming and day dreaming of a gazillion of what-if’s. I scribbled his name in the pages of my favorite books. I ordered countless Starbucks coffee using his name. I attended his basketball games. I even planned already our future wedding. But then, one day, the guy from St. Ezekiel stopped attending his classes. The guy from St. Ezekiel no longer walked in the corridors of our school. The guy from St. Ezekiel has stopped bringing sunshine to everyone he knew. The guy from St. Ezekiel is gone forever.

My heart breaks into pieces and the butterflies in my chest have not departed yet. Tragic is the most appropriate word to describe how it ended. But the tragedy should not overlooked the eternal sunshine he has given not only to me but to everyone. Though his death was clouded with confusion and everyone has their version of truth as to why he ended it. But I choose to believe that he just picked his wings and went on an endless adventure somewhere. Someday, we might meet in a place where I could finally him Emmanuel, the guy from St. Ezekiel.

The Tough Get Going by Marilyn C. Braganza (Reaction Paper)

Reaction Paper

“The Tough Get Going”

Marilyn C. Braganza

“Teach students what is ideal, but never deprive them of what is essential” are words that resonated in my head when I read “The Tough Get Going” by Marilyn C. Braganza. The article brewed perennial challenges English teachers face in the public sectors where extreme variedness of students are present. The writer made classic representations of the kind of students the public sector has and how English teachers usually deal with these kind of scenarios. In a nutshell, the article was about the dilemma to whether code switch or not, how socio-economic status plays in learning and how to teach ideally and essentially. The article reminded me that dedication and compassion aside from competitiveness and intelligence are needed aspects to teaching.

To teach is to exhaust all possible means to meet the planned ends of the lesson. However, predicaments like language barrier, low self-confidence and motivation, and socio-economic status pose a great challenge. In the article, the writer highlighted a heavily accented Bagobo student, Jolan. His fear to be ridiculed because of his accent lowered his self-confidence which hindered him to participate in class recitations. There are many Jolans in the public sector however, only few Teacher Marilyn in the workforce who will see to it that she will not fail the student. “Every week I spent one hour with Jolan to build his self-confidence and make him realize that it was okey to be different”, Teacher Marlyn mentioned in the article which allows us to see that she manages to achieve her ideals in English instruction by attending to Jolan’s need. The interplay of motivation and communication was utilized by the teacher as well. In one occasion, a naughty boy used incoherent sentences to inform her why he was absent in the class. Instead of correcting him, the teacher reacted in a very endearing way. She mentioned “I congratulated him for communicating his message. Letting him feel that he was understood was the best motivation for learning”. This action shows us that as English teachers, even in our dire need of perfection, we must not overlooked the exerted efforts of the child. Reinforced positive behavior can spark a positive change in one’s motivation.

The teacher also introduced us to Nerissa, a 15-year-old girl who walks two and half-kilometers to and from school every day. Nerissa as mentioned in the article is the classic representation of a typical student from the public sector. In my own experience, I have students who are fishermen at night, working scholars and farmers. These students are also the usual students who do not fully comprehend how computer works and the idea of internet. This scenario will allow us to ponder on reality that amidst privileges and industrial development, there are still people out there who struggles to make their way through. The Nerissas in our classrooms are the striving class who need more teachers that see their individual struggles and will not fall on the trap of generic judgments. Thus, as agent’s in-charge for their learning, we must see to it that we put our feet in their shoes so that we can make ways to fill their needs.

The article opened up to a window in teaching that I sometimes refuse to look into. I sometimes go for the easy way in teaching which is to provide a generic medicine for generic diagnosis. I often seek perfection which sometimes lead to outright criticisms to every wrong pronunciation or ungrammatical statement. These practices are completely unacceptable in a sense that English teaching should not be a subject-oriented feat but a learner-centered advocacy. English teachers should not only be trained to be good communicators of the target language but should be also good at communicating holistic goals. English teachers must be dedicated, compassionate and patient because after all the purpose of language learning is not only to let them speak the language but to let them use the language for existential expression.