My mom said my dad had wanted me to become a teacher. I shivered at the thought of it. At one point I asked her what my Dad was thinking wanting me to become a teacher.
I used to have a pre-conceived notion about becoming a teacher. If I met students who were taking education courses, I would ask them why in the world would they want to be teachers. The reason behind my thinking, I don’t know. But all that have changed when my kids started going to school. I began to appreciate the profession because of these people:
Ma’am Payoyo as all her students call her, was Lance’s kindergarten teacher. She was I think about 50+ years old. At first I though she might be strict or fierce, but I was wrong. During the first weeks of his class, Lance would always give me that "im so sad my mommy is leaving me" look everytime I left him. He was always on the verge of tears. One time when we arrived late in school, I followed him to where they hold their flag ceremony without him and his teacher knowing. And there was Ma’am Payoyo, who upon seeing my Lance wrapped her arms around him to comfort him and guide him to his seat as if it was his first day in school. Needless to say, I was touched.
She cried when Lance left her class to prepare for Singapore. I too shed tears watching the gentle lady hugging my son tightly for the last time.
Then there is teacher Julia, Carl’s nursery teacher who we just spoke to several days ago for the meet the parents session. In one of my previous blogs I echoed my worries about Carl’s first days in school. Once I, Jof or Ate Delia brings him to school and their classroom door closes, that’s the last we see of him, we just had to wait for dismissal. We never got a chance to see how he was inside, but I know for sure he would cry during the first few days. But I also know that teacher Julia would carry him, pacify him and try to distract him with all sorts of antics.
Teacher Julia said that after he outgrew the crying spell, the next problem was that he would fall asleep inside the class! He is so used to having a nap after lunch that he brought the pattern to school. And my Carl is one child who can, the moment he feels like it, sleep seating, standing or even walking. After these two stages, he was okay. I observed that he was eager to go to school, no excuses. I asked him why and he told me its because teacher Julia is very kind to him, that’s why he loves her. During our meeting, I thanked her for making Carl’s first school experience a very pleasant one.
We have not met with teacher Julie (not Julia this time - Lance’s K2 teacher) as she became sick on the appointment date and we never had the chance to reschedule, but I know she is equally good. Our kids are the best persons to tell how good teachers are and Lance just adores his teacher Julie.
I know I can never be a teacher. First because my patience is very limited and second because my patience is very limited :) It is not my passion, period. Now that I have 2 very active kids, I can perfectly imagine the depth (and breadth) of a teacher’s patience - having to handle 10 to 20 times more than I have to. So I totally take my hats off these people - in whose hands we entrust our kids. I realized that being a good teacher is not bounded by nationality or culture. It comes naturally to those who have embraced this profession with such passion and commitment. Not only are they able to teach and influence our children, but they also have the natural ability to touch parents’ hearts, yours truly included.
Teacher Julia is on the right. Carl is in front, 2nd from right.
Teacher Julie is on the 3rd row, leftmost. Lance is on the 2nd row, 3rd from left.
Sweet!
