Finally, school year is almost over

Hello.

When was the last time I posted something here in WordPress?

Sometimes, I am more active in Facebook and Instagram. And when I say active, it doesn’t necessarily mean I post a lot. I usually just hang around and read. Possibly because I ain’t got time for contemplation. Speaking of contemplation, I will facilitate a recollection for the school’s Science Department teachers tomorrow somewhere in Pigcawayan. But that’s tomorrow so I don’t know yet what exactly would happen.

Last Saturday, I facilitated a recollection with a group sharing portion about Jesus raising up Lazarus from the dead (which was the Gospel last Sunday). Each one had to share. As the facilitator, I too had told some stories too. Together with the school canteen staff in the midst of the cool breeze from the sea, I teared up a bit when I disclosed how I missed my family.

And a random guy, who was not part of the group, suddenly caught me off guard when he sat in our cottage and boldly declared that, “There must be a reason why your family is living apart.” But instead of becoming defensive, I responded calmly that there’s actually no problem at allbetween us family members. Made it simpler when I said that instead of discussing there’s really no bad blood between us siblings or parents and it’s just my sister’s family having financial difficulty so she had to work in a foreign country. When he responded out of the blue, I sensed that the sharing mood changed a bit from being serious into uneasy. Maybe the random guy sensed it too so maybe that’s why he left afterwards. Sometimes, when a person shares a story, like the random guy I too tend to over analyze when all I need to do is to sit, listen, and read between the spoken words. That’s why when someone shares a problem with sensitive issue, I tend to ask how she or he feels and to help her/him think for herself/himself. From that experience, I see the wisdom why a facilitator of recollection must not mix their schedule with recreation. And somehow, I had practiced open vulnerability. Maybe non-Filipinos would have difused that question by replying, “It’s none of your business.” But I too am a Filipino who says hello by asking “Where are you going?” when I really have no intention of knowing the destination.

And since this coming Sunday in the start of the Holy Week, us Filipino Marist Brothers would spend a week in contemplation with Br. Michael Green, FMS as our facilitator/speaker. I don’t know him that much. I only know that he’s Australian. Actually, I prefer a silent retreat. But that’s another story.

Oh yeah, that reminds me to prepare a morning prayer and a Marian prayer for Maundy Thursday. Also, my renewal of vows is up next April 15. Just two days before my birthday.

I’ll share next time my toxic experiences during these past three months of teaching this schoolyear.

Do it for love: an anecdote

Yesterday, I was asked to write a vignette on my memories as a Marist student for the 50th anniversary of Marist School, Marikina. I sent this anecdote hoping to be part of the future coffee table book. It doesn’t matter to me if they reject this. This is an expression of my love towards the “little ones”. Here it is:


One of my most memorable moments was when I received a CSEP award in my senior year. To be honest, I was not even expecting it. As a teen who almost gave up studying, I wondered what reason was it behind the inclusion of my name among the awardees.

It was 2005 when we taught Math in a Grade 5 class of Kapitan Moy Marikina Heights Elementary School. At first, I went there because we were told to. But after borrowing a book from my classmate, my perspective on teaching changed. Reading Improve Your Grades by Veltisezar Bautista inspired me. As a result, I helped me reflect and feel compassion towards the little ones.

One afternoon, dissatisfied with our manner of teaching, I took over, animated the class, and spoke as if I’m just discussing with my barkada. I was stirred by that moment.

I believe I was given the award not because I was a good speaker nor I was knowledgeable of the subject but because one afternoon, I taught with passion.

To paraphrase Mother Theresa of Calcutta, teach math not because you were told to; teach it because you love the students who will learn it.


Deliver Me

Deliver Me

It’s second semester and it’s getting harder for me.
I’m more free but with added responsibilities.
With them, I know I have this tendency;
this wanting to please others
and to please myself as well.

Whenever it happens, deliver me from these.
If it’s not Your will, deliver me O God.

Writing Prompt: I Shall Not Want by Audrey Assad