I dare say that teaching in a public school is an adventure altogether. It’s not the easiest of jobs and it is NOT definitely a job. As my principal, Ma’am Sol, told me today, it’s “missionary work.” You spend for your IMs (instructional materials), storybooks, students’ photocopied learning materials, sometimes, snacks for those who have no snacks, and other class paraphernalia. Yes, this is definitely NOT a JOB but a missionary field.
I decided to start this blog on my first month of teaching. Today marks my first month. I started last June 8, a week late from the official start of class as I was given a new section. A pull-outs section where all the non-readers and most of the disruptive kids were placed.
It has not been a walk in the park. I’ve cried, asked God what my sin was when I was a student why I have been given these kids, have gotten sick with stress, lost my voice, informed my manager that I was really having a hard and challenging time adjusting to my kids to say the least. I remember the shock on my first day when I saw my kids climbing on the desks, jumping from the seats, running all around the classroom, some doing somersaults. It was both hilarious and a shock at the same time.
I have gotten more than what I signed up for. But then again, maybe this was what I really signed up for. To serve this kind of kids. I am going to have to do more than what I signed up for. To go beyond teaching lessons and love these kids. It made me ask myself: “Am I a teacher only for those who can read, understand, learn fast and obey me?”
My classes have not been perfect. I have stumbled and fell, made a lot of mistakes just a lot like my students. Today, I asked myself, “Am I like my students in more ways than one?”
Yes, every day is exhausting. It saps all the energy in me and gets very challenging but at the end of the day, when I see my students (especially the “sipat” and the unruly) raise their hands because they want to stay after class because they want to LEARN HOW TO READ, my kids who like cleaning my classroom after class and this one kid who likes staying after class to help me put down the materials, talk to me, likes to go home along with me since we live in the same community, I say that maybe God has placed me here for a reason. And that reason, probably, is to simply love these kids, show them how much God values and loves them and that God has a great plan in store for them. Definitely not easy but God’s grace is sufficient.