I wanted to write a blog entry at this moment but I remembered that I still have to study for our midterm exam tomorrow. Good grief. I have to get a hundred percent.

I’ll post tomorrow.

The much awaited debate was held yesterday, at the A****n Hall. At least the much awaited debate by president.

Sure, my students and I had also awaited the debate, but not as much as he does. To put it more annoyingly, the president has been waiting for the debate TO PUT UP A GOOD SHOW, to take it from his own words. Hmmm… to put up a good show… So that was his own idea of entertainment. Put students in some debate instead of a group of clowns and contortionists. Hah.

I don’t know why, but I don’t seem to feel anything anymore. I was quite nervous about the outcome of the debate, but not as nervous as I was during the past few years during other instances.

content edited.

We were doggone tired. We were doggone weary. We were doggone crazy. Tulig, in other words.

I was quite relieved when all of the debaters were already in school. I had to introduce them one by one - - - of course, I had to stand in the stage, in front of so many people, particularly my students, and called the debaters’ names one by one. My students, for moral support, hollered when my name was called. It was the first time that people actually did that my whole life… oh wait a minute, that was for the second time pala, but this time, it’s louder than before. The fourth year students were screaming like hell, pausing everytime I mention the name of their classmates. When the debate began, I took my seat with my students. I was able to see that they were able to doodle "GO SENIORS" signs in papers, and they were always raising it when the seniors have a point. The other fourth year adviser was quite irritable when the seniors were doing that, but I told them that raising those miniature banners were just fine, as long as they were not shouting. It was their way of expressing their support for the Seniors, so it’s fine with me.

Compared with the Juniors, the Seniors were the better speakers in the debate. N, K, and F delivered their speeches clearly, with the correct phrasing and intonation patterns. The juniors… well… uh… they also read their speeches.

Content edited.

This is not because that I am the coach for the Seniors, but I am just telling the truth. Ask the other teachers; they can attest to that. The Senior team lost in two aspects: one, we do not have enough resources to support the wealth of materials provided for the anti-parliamentary campaigns (one of them buckled up, because this one of the debaters presented her facts, and she had this roundabout way of questioning); and two, just as we were supposed to get the upper hand in the debate but..

content edited.

Which leads to the conclusion - - - WE LOST. The president said that we lost only by a few decimal points. After the program, we were called for a sort of pictorial, and I was hesitant to go, but still, I went. Of course, my ever-supportive seniors hollered again, and I took my place in the stage with the debaters. It was okay for the two debaters (N and K) to lose, they’ve accepted it, but I think F took it seriously; even though he told me that it was just okay, I can sense that he really feels bad, and in return, I felt bad as well, but I cannot do anything, of course. Ms. C, their Eco teacher, told me that she liked the performance of the seniors better. They worked as a team; the juniors didn’t. I wished that I could’ve helped them better. At that moment, I felt that I have failed these kids.

I was more downtrodden after the debate, when the principal called me and told me that we were invited for a meal at their "penthouse". I told them that I would just call the debaters so they can eat with us as well, but she said no, only the coaches, the division head and the judges are invited to eat in their penthouse. I looked at her annoyingly, and I know that she had noticed that. It was not only for the first time that I have showed my rebellious nature toward her. It was last yesterday, I think, when I was still having a lesson with the third year class, and a sophomore went into the room, telling me that she was in their classroom, and that she was telling me to have a class with the sophomores at that very moment. It turned out that she had a 5-minute lecture in the sophomore class, comparing them with the freshmen students (They are so quiet when I came to their room, yadda, yadda). Duh? May takot pa yung mga yun sa authority. And besides, she cannot expect me to attend to my class in second year when I am still having a class with the third year. Ano ako, me doppleganger? What does she think am I? Omnipresent?

Anyway, I am digressing….

It infuriated me so that the coaches were invited for lunch in the penthouse and the debaters were left hungry who knows where. I didn’t want to attend and eat the food from their plates, but I had no choice, because if I didn’t attend, the president might think that I am just being a sore loser. I didn’t want to attend because the debaters were not there. Come to think of it, was their show. They were the ones who "entertained" everyone, they were the ones who should eat in the poor replica of Mount Olympus (the penthouse). I wasn’t able to eat well because: 1. I was infurated; 2. I was infuriated with the comments that they were saying when we were eating (I know the third year will win, yadda yadda) and 3. one of the judges’ jokes were really corny. I was poker-faced the whole time. I never thought that educators will be as tactless and heartless as they are. They have the same characteristics which makes me loathe the people over at J***l. At least I am happy that the three of the Senior debaters will be picked, with another junior, as the participants for the debate in the local level. Hah. Beat that. My kids were the ones who were chosen.

I am also happy that my professor has given me a chance to pass Education 1 - - - he gave me a report to be delivered during the finals, but in case that I won’t be able to report, i have to get a 100% for the coming midterm (which is this Saturday) and final exam. WAAAAHHH!!! 100%?

Nosebleed, anyone?

Lately, I have noticed that I am turning into an anarchist. Rules do not seem to matter anymore…

To start off this blog entry, I would like to honestly say that I am enjoying the things that I do as a teacher. For one, I always face people who are living and breathing. People who have tangible faces. People who can respond to your jokes. People that can sometimes really piss you off. I think it was last Tuesday when I discussed with my advisory class, IV-Quartzite, about the story by Bjornstjerne Bjornson, "The Father," when our division head asked me if she could talk to the kids for about 15 minutes or so. It turned out that she was going to talk to them about this incident in the comfort room located in the Science building. Someone stuffed some baby powder bottles and (forgive me for being plain icky) sanitary napkins in the water closet the previous weekend during their CAT. I was quite amused with the reaction of the boys in the class as our division head was explaining the incident. Of course they were smiling, suppressing their laughter as the head talks about the menstrual cycle, sanitary napkins and all. :D. But something even funnier transpired after that talk. Here goes the dialogue.

DARTH: (to the class) So, you aren’t actually using the CR in the Science building?

Student: No, ma’am, the juniors are the one using it. We’re too scared to use it because there were reportedly ghosts lurking in the halls of that building. (Stops for a while). Ma’am, we’re going to have a practice this afternoon.

DARTH: (mouth agape) HUH? Practice? What for, a sort of drill? In the CR? Including sanitary napkins and all?

Student: No, ma’am, we’re going to practice for the Linggo ng Wika play

(Class bursts into laughter)

I thought that they’ll have a drill for the CR thing, so I was quite surprised. Just imagine, one of my students actually instructing the others: "Okay, classmates, this is how you dispose of your thingamajigs. Boys, look closely."

WAHEHEHE…

Another thing which I really want to remember is the activity that I asked them to do in English class yesterday. Our topic for World Literature is about Gilda Cordero-Fernando’s story, "The Visitation of the Gods," and it’s all about the issues that teachers have to face.  Since we do not have enough time to finish the whole activity, I made them do an activity - - - they should dramatize the problems that the teachers are facing regarding work. The activity was particularly riotus in my advisory section. Some imitated the teachers (they even imitated me, for godsakes)  - - - and most of their imitations are hilarious. One even applied eyeliner on his eyes to make it appear as though he lacks sleep. I could’ve died of laughing.

Anyway, I am pissed off today… well, actually, for the past few days already, because of the debate. I served as the coach of the Senior class, and the only thing that I have to blame is my right hand because when we drew lots, I picked the Affirmative side for the issue to be tackled in the debate. The issue is about whether or not the Philippines should adopt a Parliamentary form of government. Our side is particularly challenging because very few sources have been gathered which are actually supporting our side; and besides, we ourselves do not believe that we should change our system of government. And another thing is that for the past few months, I haven’t really paid attention to the news because of the pile of work I have to do. We had some sources, actually a lot of them, and I even printed the articles which supports the other side, so as our team would also be knowledgeable about the views of the opposite team. Unlucky as it may seem, our sources still seem to be lacking, and we have little knowledge about the topic, which is really new to us. I really want my students to win, not because of the trip to Tagaytay, but I want my students to feel good themselves. Last year, the same debaters, except for one, lost in the debate. Winning will boost their self-esteem; the kids really need some, but all I can feed them is positive thoughts. It pains me that whenever they ask questions, I could not answer them fully. I hated myself for that.

My whole week was spent with the debaters. N. C., K. L., F. H. and R.L. (there. I’ve mentioned the initials of the kids - couldn’t mention their names because they might be surfing the net and find my blog) and I were in the library, brainstorming about the topic, while the Juniors were just idling around. I’ve read their speeches, edited their speeches and made them read their speeches one by one. We have gone through the President’s office, and we drowned in his sermons. Change this, change that. The president was actually not adding anything on the kids’ speeches, but instead, he emphasized the arguments that the opposite team may possibly tell them during the debate. It pained me so that I have learned from the Juniors that the president actually made her speech. I was dumbfounded. WHY? Isn’t that quite unfair? We slaved over our speeches, and then, the president was focusing on the other team to the point that he actually wrote one of the speeches.

Yesterday, we were called for a meeting. All of us were in the library, listening to the words of the president about the debate rules and all.

content edited.

The president put our division head (who is one of the noblest persons I know, believe me) in shame yesterday. He even put the students in shame yesterday. He said in front of us that this junior doesn’t even seem to belong to high school because he’s way too little. He said another thing about a senior about being lazy. It’s being tactless to the next level.

I have had too much of themthat I actually made "pambabara" when they said a wrong word:

Boss: (to a teacher in the same meeting) Ganda ng pangalan mo, a… Shera.. Parang warrior

DARTH: Sir, her name is Sheena, not Shera, that’s a cartoon in the 80’s. And if ever you’re pertaining to the Amazon, that is Xena.

Then another case:

Boss: Ms. Mamaril… (looking at me)

DARTH: (raising my eyebrows) The name’s Ma_ l _ r _, sir.

His wife: Mamaril? Di ba that’s a poet?

DARTH: (looking at her, poker-faced) Ma’am, the poet that you’re referring to is the French poet, Stephane Mallarme.

his wife: (shifts the conversation) Yung taga-Noveleta?

DARTH: HUH????

Content edited.

After the meeting, we went home. The kids had too much. I had too much. Apparently, the bosses wasn’t able to feel that.

(to be continued…)

The common factor among those in the higher ranks of the corporate world, or in my case, an educational institution is that:

THEY ARE ALL A BUNCH OF… no comment.

I have received news from about my TIYAHIN, and as usual, she is as freakish as ever. From the news that a good friend has told me, it appeared that she has become worse. The freakish witch has done it again, ruining the lives of the mere proletariat. I dunno if her manner of bugging people is just a result of her boy toy leaving her for someone newer and way younger and one who could wear a lingerie at night without her face glowing with phosphorescent light, but whatever the cause may be, one for sure, may be that of a post-menopausal syndrome. She has stopped reproducing egg cells. Her youthful Mena / Chin Chan Zu glow has vanished, and all she can be proud of is her asphalt-hard face (which is as dark and as rough as asphalt) and nothing more. Probably Big Papa prefers to fix the air-con rather than her impish personality.

Note: I need not mention what infuriated me.

Last Tuesday, three of the high school faculty members and I were stuck in the faculty room collating the test papers for the mock exam of the graduating students. I think that we really looked stupid, grouping papers (all 22 sets of them, in about a hundred pages) in the faculty room. From about 7 am up to 7 pm, we were at school, and when we were about to go home, the principal talked to me and asked me to stay for a while. With my hair unkempt, my arms sore, collating papers, fastening them into groups and all, I muttered a deep word (you know what that is) and proceeded to her office.

She asked me where do I go home, and I said I live in Cavite. She’s probably thinking that is was indeed quite late already, but I doubt it if she knows the feeling of coming home late. I sat down on her chair, and even though it was cushioned, it didn’t really feel comfy. For goodness’ sake, I want to go home.

The discussion are as follows.

Principal:

Darth:

Principal:

Darth: (in her mind)

Principal: It’s somehow good to project a serious image, so as to avoid being "chummy-chummy" (i hate that word!) something which says that you mean business, but do not be too distant to your students… Remember during the faculty development wherein we talked about smiling often?

Darth: (in her mind) ? (then nods) i know ma’am, but there are some instances wherein you don’t have to smile all the time, or else, students won’t be taking you seriously. And besides, ma’am, i am still new, I have a lot more to learn. Will that be all, ma’am? (rises)

Principal: Why yes… thank you for staying a while. (looks at my bag) that’s a nice bag (probably saying it to alleviate my irked mood)

Darth: (pfft…)

Friends, I know that you know me. I am not the type of person who smiles often at people. My jokes are very sarcastic, and by that mere sarcasm, I make people laugh. People have their own personalities, and they cannot be changed overnight.

content edited. Strong feelings witheld.

What’s up with the bosses? They just couldn’t see what’s essential anymore. They just exist in their own little air-conditioned room, staring at the new idiot box.