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Last September of 2023, after coming home from the US, the program head from the school I am currently taking my graduate school courses asked me if I could teach a class part time in the undergrad department. At first, I balked at the idea of working again after five years of blissful retirement as well as considering that the pay and standards weren’t up par with the US. Yet, I went and forged ahead with the renewed faith of sharing what I’ve learned, impart some wisdom, and experience how it’s like to work here in the Philippines. Here I was going to educate young minds but boy, it turned out to be the other way around.

How did I end up handling 7 classes was a brain scratcher considering there’s still Grad school to work hard for. Though now that I thought about it, being a glutton for punishment isn’t a mantra to uphold, it’s just that I couldn’t say no to the Gen Ed and Lit Program Heads. Yes, that’s me. As I left the CAS building that day, a black bird circled above me before it flew up the tree. I didn’t think anything of it during that space of time but I remember a teeny-tiny sense of foreboding up whatever hairs I have. In hindsight, this question lingered – “What the hell was I thinking?”

After a semester of sleepless nights drawing up and correcting lesson plans, quizzes and homework and reflection papers, from dealing with lazy/needy to I-can’t-believe-you-got-in-this-school students whose reasoning skills bordered high school, the drama between teachers (think of a small but terrible oldie bullying a newbie), the sweet-as-Biko teachers giving me micro-aggressive tuppence coz I’ve a ‘real’ creative writing degree compared to their Masters of Ek Ek, or how about this over-the-top ‘older sister’ whose tiny drop of ego gets corroded because ‘it’s-all-about-her-and-no-one-else-matters,’ and the bureaucratic snail’s pace of paying salaries after three to four months of work, creatively hashing through somewhat archaic syllabi and a slew of other unmentionable things led me to wonder – “What the hell’s hell was I thinking?”

The bf castigated me for having high standards and said that this is the Philippines and it is expected because this is just the status quo. I shot back at him with these words, “No wonder people want to get outta here.” I actually advised my fellow grad school classmates to do the same. If given the chance, go abroad. Get out and seek greener pastures. Now I can really empathize with the millions of OFWs who had to make the sacrifice to uplift their economic conditions. Then it dawned on me, my mom (a nurse) was an OFW herself back then in 1972.

There’s no moral high ground to stand on here. These are mere experiences of being part of the educational system in the Philippines for me. I don’t really care about the pettiness of colorful personalities who permeate their negativity towards others, I am worried of the teachers who spend countless and unpaid hours just to educate students while waiting for their salaries three to four months later. How are they surviving with mouths to feed? This was quite an eye-opener. Complaining about it won’t make any difference because. Yes, it’s just because and nothing else. Go with the flow and be creative on how you can feed, clothe and shelter your family. No one shouldn’t have to go through that but then, only in here in the Philippines.

Oh, before I forget. I am now a ‘heartless’ grader, according to some students. I did not fail anyone though, but some were counting on a one point something. Their performance says two point this and that yet they are ‘entitled’ to be in the DL. I’ve mentioned back then in the beginning of these classes that whoever gets a one has to go above and beyond the expectations of writing an essay/reflection paper or perfecting quizzes or midterms. I find that a majority of these students are just in this class to ‘just be in class.’ It was disappointing to score a make-up test after a dismal midterm performance only to find out that they couldn’t even enumerate what they’ve learned up to that point of the semester and I thought I was really making headway what with all the lessons and numerous graded recitations beforehand.

In essence, whatever I’ve taught turned into dust and when everything was settled, I was the one who got educated. Yes, my grad school grades suffered. I realized how hard the 2023 fall semester was personally but I went through it with the help of my classmates, the bf, and friends within the teaching profession whose snarky remarks about the difference between private and public schools in the Philippines and the US was on point. I cannot compare Apples to Durian per se. It was a learning experience that I don’t want anyone to go through unless they are like me, a glutton for punishment. This self-inflicted stance had me thinking, “Will I want to teach again?” Are there any redeeming qualities of waiting to be paid three to four months down the road and after using credit cards or filing for a loan to survive?”

Deduce these questions and ascertain the outcome….

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