On teenagers, my Grade 8 English teacher, and Nihongo classes

Hello WordPress,

Story time!

Since I entered my second year of being a Scholastic and passed the licensure for teachers last 2015, I started my teaching career and lived a busy life for the next three years. Since entering in the active ministry as a young Brother, I celebrate everytime we have holidays by just staying in the house of course except when Br. Ador would initiate us to go somewhere like going to Lebak which I also loved doing too. I think last year was the busiest year of my life where I handled a homeroom, table tennis boys team, and the Grant-in-Aid Scholars while teaching more than 23 hours a week! I don’t know if it’s just me but the preparation for Values Education 8 (Christology), Religious Education 11 (Faith and Revelation), and World Religions and Belief Systems 12 during the first two quarters made me anxious more than the actual teaching. Since I only took 18 units of Education subjects, I think that’s where the struggle was from. Don’t get me wrong though. I love teaching in high school. The paper works were dreadful though. I know some teachers dread not only the paper works but the dealing with high schoolers. Yeah, I admit I had those moments but I refuse to feed those feelings and keep on going instead. Puberty and teenage years can be an emotional rollercoaster ride which affects even for us teachers too. Those are the rebellious years of their youth and I have been there so I understand.

When I was in high school, I cannot understand myself why I get so emotional at times. I remember how my heart beats whenever I see my crush, my English teacher at Grade 8. I developed a friendship with her and I would be very at ease talking to her because I like her so much. Hehehe! I think my English improved much because of her inspiration and I would admit that my handwriting was patterned from her handwriting. Looking back, I think I was influenced by her in terms of my teaching style on the manner how she treated us her students and her honesty with us. As our school is an exclusive for boys, we too had given her a hard time in class at times but her command in class and composure would win our rebelliousness and boyish-ness. Maintaining a good relationship outside the classroom with students is something I learned from her too. She would then transfer in a university and become an instructor or professor. As a college student, I remember seeing her on the jeepney stop and we would again talk for a long time even on the train until she would stop on Legarda station and I would say goodbye. I would see her again on our ride to our respective schools and talk non-stop. After 2008, I never saw her after that. Since I remembered her, I thank God for her presence and influence to me. She taught me a lot not only about English but also about maintaining good relationships with students. Ma’am Ginnie, wherever you are, maraming salamat po!

Well, I didn’t intend this post to be a tribute to her and I just ended up writing about her because of her strong influence to me when it comes to being a teacher.

Now as a Nihongo student, I enjoy this moment of learning a new language everytime I step inside the classroom. I suck in pre-class preparations though. Our classes would be only for 2 hours but at times, it feels so long or very fast depending on the difficulty and my attention span.

Being a teacher for 3 years changed my perspective when it comes to learning. I now know how to anticipate questions in tests because I used to make test questions. I enjoy every moment as a student and will take my time and learn at my own pace. Besides, I still intend to teach in the future. Who knows? Maybe I can teach Nihongo too in the future.

God bless you all.

Peace! ✌️

When I lost something, I found a hidden treasure (Part Two of Three)

When I was ten, I broke my left arm. I left the varsity since I can’t baseball for two months. Though my left hand is useless, I wanted to be active as much as possible. I didn’t know that with the freak accident, I would discover a special talent in playing chess. In the fourth grade, I started playing competitive chess. Without formal training, our team entered the finals. That’s already a great achievement. Too bad, we just couldn’t win our matches since our opponent blanked us, 4-0. A silver medal? Not bad for a first timer.

During the vacation, the sports coordinator would invite me to join the summer chess clinic. From baseball, I would then join the chess team until I graduate in high school. I would bag medals every year. In studies, I would notice a sudden increase in my Math and English grades. I know there’s a scientific explanation for this.

Years later, I fractured the same arm as a teenager. This would leave its form grotesque and smaller compared to my right arm. That time, I can’t swim or play basketball. So, what did the fifteen year-old boy do when he can’t do extraneous physical activities? Just play chess.

But the following year, I would then give up this hidden treasure that I found. Circumstances would help me retire in competitive chess.

To be continued…

Writing Prompt: Writing 101 — Serially Found (Assignment Thirteen)

The writing talk

Write until I make sense
I want to keep this blog going for as long as I have the opportunity to do it. If not for the poor specs of the desktop I’m using, I would have put pictures in my every post. No wonder I don’t have pictures in my posts. It’s hard to navigate using an outdated desktop. Most of my entries are posted via e-mail. I’m done with explaining why my entries are like this. No more excuses. Just produce more content. The quality will follow if I produce more quantity. Like what the writer said on the Discovery Magazine in a Shaolin Monks inspired article, one kick practiced in 10,000 days is scarier than 10,000 kicks practiced in a day. Something like that.
Write like I talk
I know a lot of words but I don’t use them in my daily conversation since of course, I’m currently living in a Cebuano dominated place and I don’t speak Cebuano! Thankfully, I can practice my English more often every time I come home and have our dinner. I think there are not that many families who eat together in the same time and in the same dining table. Maybe they do it during dine outs. Not much often. Well, going back, I like to write the way I talk. That’s the writing talk. Even though I can say something in a sentence, I still write like I’m talking because those are the thoughts that came to my mind. No censoring. That’s the problem with not editing properly. But I’m more confident now that I lived with a multicultural place for more than a year, with English as our language. That means I’m now thinking in English and not code switching from Filipino to English. I’m sorry if I let my mind speak loudly.