"People ask, "Why do you work so hard for your students?" There are so many things I could say but the answer must be - because of one child. I swim through seas of papers with colored pens as paddles - seeking to improve without dispiriting, to point a better way without losing their enthusiasm.
Because of one child I seek my own reserves and provide opportunities which would otherwise be lost.
Because of one child I will spend my time generously - as if I had a lifetime of such days. I will see the whole of the world from a small hill and will believe against convention in "impossible" results.
At the end of the teaching day I leave the classroom but I am still and shall ever be, a teacher. Time ago I was that child for whom such commitment made a difference. I will dedicate my days confident my efforts matter... because of one child." -Mary Anne Radmacher (2001)
At first, it sounded like just another tragedy. One we would mourn then move on from soon enough. But the more we learned about the circumstances surrounding it, the more it hurt, the more the anger burned. We looked and we saw our hands were red.
I tried to be quiet. I tried to keep calm. I convinced myself that as a faculty, the responsible thing to do is to stay out of the issue and be silent, be impartial. But I realize, there is nothing responsible about staying silent in the midst of injustice. It was UP that taught me this: when those who cannot defend themselves are wronged, we must speak and speak loud on their behalf.
First, full disclosure: I have never been one to march out in the streets over public social issues. I beg pardon, dear reader, this does not mean I do not care. As a teacher, my battleground is and always has been inside the classroom. I believe that the classroom is the ground zero of any fight for change. It is here where we hope to guide and mold the future soldiers, movers, and shakers of the world. We do our best and hope that it was enough to make a difference. They say in UP, we teach people to think and not simply what to think. As a math teacher, if I don't teach my students how to think logically, I teach them nothing relevant to their everyday lives. I have always been and will always be an advocate for proper teaching and quality education. That's the battle I fight everyday.
As such, I hate teachers that show no respect for the profession and to their mandates as teachers. I hate teachers that only show up to class when they feel like it. I hate teachers that do little more than write stuff on the board or read off of a powerpoint presentation. I hate teachers that treat their jobs as teachers as mere sidelines to their research duties or graduate studies. Teaching is more than just talking about a topic. And teachers are more than just people who stand in the front of the classroom and speak.
Which brings me to the heart of the matter: we have become disrespectful of what it means to be teachers, and of our mandates as a learning institution, as the state university.
How did we get here? When did we forget? We needed a reminder, but how I wish it didn't have to come this way.
Teaching is a service. As such, teachers are servants. We serve. As the University OF THE PHILIPPINES, we are servants of the Filipino people. This is a truth twice over for UP Manila-- the Health Sciences Center where doctors and teachers stand side by side.
Dr. Agulto himself said in a message (seen here: http://upm.edu.ph/letter.html ), “UP has to answer to the Filipino let alone the world. If he remains unlettered and hungry with unmet basic needs, we at UP and its alumni must respond and care for them.”
We have been exposed. We have not lived up to those words.
As teachers, it would be wrong for us to act like we are the boss of our students, we aren't. They don't owe us anything for taking them in and teaching them. And we certainly can't say they owe us when we don't fulfill our duties properly. Instead, we owe it to the country to take care of them as if they were our own children, to do everything in our power to help them and to see them through to the end of their journey. That's our mandate. Perhaps we should ask the administration, would you have turned away your own child?
Accepting a student into the university is a mutual commitment: on the part of the student, to study responsibly; on the part of the faculty, to look after them and see them through to graduation. As much as students often fail to do their part, this tragedy is a glaring indictment on us, your faculty. We have not done our part either.
At the end of every month I sign a document which includes the oath “I hereby swear, upon my honor, that I have fulfilled my duties for the month of ---” I realize now that I haven't. My duty is not just about showing up to class, it's about protecting the students under my care. It's not just about exams or grades. Anything I do or say can impact their lives, for better or worse. My words and actions may echo into the future long after I'm gone.
Doctors and teachers are the same in that in our duties there are lives and futures at stake. This is the thing which we have completely forgotten... or willingly taken for granted.
A school is not a business. We provide education, not sell it. And if your first concern as a teacher is whether or not a student can pay, you probably shouldn't teach at all. If it is disgusting for a doctor to turn away a patient in need of help for lack of money, so it is disgusting for a teacher to turn away a willing student just because they cannot pay. If I need to explain and defend that point to you, you have no right to call yourself a teacher.
Teaching is a service. And our mandate is to care for the youth in whose hands lie the future of the nation. That's what we're here for: to be in the service of the students of the Philippines.
However, in faculty meetings, there is a constant mention about research grants and faculty development, graduate and doctorate studies. But there is hardly any talk-- if at all-- about education, about teaching, about what we can do for the students. We have failed at making education a priority.
UP is first and foremost an educational institution. Thus, the students must always- always- be our number one concern. Any less and we may as well not teach.
This country needs and deserves teachers who are completely committed to the welfare of its youth. This country needs teachers who are teachers. I've been advised more than a few times by older, wiser faculty to “detach”. But ma'am, sir, when you understand that there is more at stake than exams and a meaningless grade, exactly how do you expect me to not care?
Kristel Tejada's death is a tragedy. But it only shines a spotlight on the real issue. Whether or not the late payment policy ultimately drove her to take her own life is irrelevant. The issue is that we turned her away at all. The issue is that the nation has entrusted its best and brightest to us and in return we have made it harder and harder for them to afford getting in, let alone stay. Worst of all, we willingly turn them away, and turn a blind eye to their predicaments in the name of “fairness” and enforcing the rule. We leave them to fend for themselves without batting an eyelash because what happens to them next is not our problem anymore.
But that only shows how disrespectful we have become of our mandate. As teachers, “what happens next” IS our problem. In fact, it should be our only problem.There are lives and futures at stake! Not just theirs but ours as well. The nation has entrusted its future to us. When it is the fate of the nation at stake, teachers have no right to ever be less than their best. What happens to them-- not just their grades or graduation-- is our responsibility. There are ways to be fair without being inhuman.
Yes, the law may legally wash our hands of guilt from this tragedy. No one here is guilty of murder, but that does not mean we are not responsible. We should have spoken up long before we had to. We should have listened when they cried for help. We didn't. We turned a blind eye because we were not ourselves affected. Maybe we weren't completely apathetic, but we didn't feel the need to do anything then. Now we do... Now is too late.
It was striking to read that infographic (here: http://www.facebook.com/photo.
Now we acknowledge that the people running our beloved university are people too. We don't know who they are in their private lives away from the campus. For all we know they may be outstanding parents, or loving sons and daughters, or loyal friends. But as teachers, this is a disgrace. And the seemingly adamant refusal to own up to this mistake and take responsibility is shameful.
You were wrong. We were wrong. The least we can do is admit it. THE LEAST WE CAN DO. And no, extending financial help now, only adds insult to injury.
Anyone who has ever been my student knows how proud I am to be from UP. I carry the name like a medal around my neck, but I also respect the responsibility that comes with bearing that name. I didn't think I would ever be ashamed to say I teach in UP Manila. Today I am.
Nahihiya ako. Nahihiya ako dahil nakakahiya tayo. Dahil ipinagkatiwala nila sa atin ang kabataan at kinabukasan ng bayan. Pero hindi natin iginalang ang kanilang pagtitiwala. Pinapabayaan natin sila, ipinagwawalang bahala, tinatalikuran, at tinataboy.
Opo, empleyado po ako. Dapat magkakampi tayo. Pero anong gusto niyong ipagtanggol ko? Anong gusto niyong ipagmalaki ko? Mawalang galang na po, kung wala kayong pakialam sa mga estudyante, huwag kayong magturo!
At this point, no amount of “rectifying” can undo the damage that has been done. No matter what we do, it's already too late. It didn't have to come to this.
But perhaps things will turn out for the better because of this. Perhaps her death will not be in vain and the change that needs to happen will finally happen. Perhaps we will finally remember to respect our mandate. Maybe this will light a spark. Maybe we will finally listen and act. Maybe now we'll see it through to the end-- because of one child.
RIP Kristel. I never knew you, but you were my responsibility too.
Thank you for reminding us. Forgive us for forgetting in the first place.
Jireh C. Espinosa, Teacher
No comments:
Post a Comment