Of being a teacher

I was a church kid.

And being one means attending Sunday School where I have learned that father Abraham has seven children; that with Christ in my vessel I can smile at the storm; and that my Jesus is alive forevermore.

Other than action songs, Bible stories are also at the hub in Sunday School at church, which was just right in our backyard. And Sunday School teachers have made these stories about Noah’s Ark, David and Goliath, Joseph the Dreamer, among others, more plausible.

Looking back, the years I spent in Sunday School, along with a group of friends which we collectively call as The Gatekeepers, formed the foundation of what I know now as my passion. Teaching.

But before I have succumbed to this passion to which I believe I am wired of, I was lost in translation for a significant amount of time. I was a wallpaper – ubiquitous. I was Jack of all trades, my Muslim friend commented about me. Ouch. Although it helps that you know how to do a variety of things but to box a punch bag is better than to box the air.

Four years ago, opportunity came. It knocked. And I opened the door without hesitation.

But it feels like it was just yesterday that I started teaching. I remember my first day in the classroom. I was introduced by a senior faculty to a small group of college kids who were bigger than skinny-me. It was awkward. I asked them the last lesson they had before the teacher I replaced left because all I know is that one, it was a basic journalism class and two, I was there to teach. They answered. I was anxious. It was my first.

But everyone would always have their firsts. It takes a lot of courage to take the first step. Ask yourself. You were once a baby. After, one improves. One becomes better and consciously decides to become even better. I did that. I enrolled for additional units in Education.

In my classroom, there used to be an emphasis on declarative knowledge, but now I am even more conscious of the fact that synthesis and evaluation is way better a gauge of understanding and learning. I have shared this recently when one student had his oral examination and apparently he was simply mouthing exact words from his photocopied material.

In your own words, please, I asked him. But I was guilty. While he was struggling to own his answer, I was asking myself: How many of my students in the past were like him? How did I not teach them how to learn?

Personal gain aside, I have consciously thought of enrolling in further studies so as not to stunt the growth of my students and my future students as well.

I do not know exactly how many years or semesters or months more do I have to spend in the university as a teacher. I have thought of grabbing an opportunity in Indonesia to teach English in an international school. What better way to teach Uncle Sam’s tongue than using action songs and stories, not necessarily from the Bible. I am excited. I’d prolly make a teacher out of these kids.

This is a reflection paper submitted for Education 27 Principles of Teaching base on the 2009 Indian comedy film 3 Idiots.