Dahil sa Droga

Isang katotohanan sa Pilipinas na kapag titser ka, medyo mababa ang tingin sa iyo. Pwera na lang kung ikaw ay propesor sa isang mataas na unibersidad at lima ang iyong masteral degree at may PhD ka. Sa public school system, may teacher 1, 2, 3 hanggang yata 20. Tinangka kong magturo sa public school kaya lang wala akong masyadong kilala sa loob. Nakakalungkot pero ganito ang nangyari kaya napunta ako sa private special education schools. Nahasa naman ang aking pagtuturo at humaba na parang longganisa ang aking pasensya. Nang malaman ko na magtuturo ako rito sa New York, naisip ko kung uubra ba ang style ng aking pagtuturo? O uuwi ba akong luhaan at may malaking black eye. Isama mo na rito ang bugbog na ego. Ang totoo ay tinatatanong ko pa rin ang sarili ko hanggang ngayon. Higit na nanunuot sa aking konsensya kapag kalagitnaan na ng school year. May naituro ba ako? May natutunana ba sila? Sumungit ba ako lalo? Milya milyang tanong kaya kadalasan ay stressed out ako. Isang araw, sabi ng boyfriend ko na kung pwede ba akong mag- apply  na sign language interpreter tutal proficient naman ako dito. Hindi ko pa rin nakakalimutan ang mag- sign pero bumagal na ako dahil wala ako "kausap." Naisip ko rin na puwede kung kukuha ako ng tests para maging certified na interpreter dito. Nag- research na ako at alam ko na ang proseso para makakuha ng lisensya dito. Ang nakakatawa ay nalungkot naman ako. Less stressful nga ang mag- interpret pero sa huli ay nabo- bore na ako. Noong nagsabog si Lord na kadaldalan, sampung lata ng Nido ang dala ko. Bihira akong tahimik maliban lang kung talagang bad trip ako. pagod o may sakit. Habang naglalakad mula sa Zerega station, naisip ko ang mga magagandang naidudulot ng pagtuturo sa akin.

1. Sa mata ng isa o dalawang bata, ako ang pinakamagandang nilalang na nilikha ni JC. Wala rin sila care kahit sabihin pa nila ito in public. Di bale na kung may eye patch si B1at banlag naman si B2.

Three years ago, I was in a hopeless relationship. I hated the world, the person and everything around me. I felt life is just a bag of tricks for me. The day came that I said "Enough, I'm getting out of here, leave the bum and swallow my pride to go home". With no work, very low self esteem and an impending thesis I had to finish in two weeks, I hated every moving thing that crossed my path. Until I got a call from a friend.

The conversation went this way.

"Haze, it's Pines. There is a job for you if you want it. Do you want to be a sign language interpreter in the University?"

"How much is the pay? Hmmm (1/4 of what I earn) Oh, fuck it, I'll take the job"

That was the start of a wonderful journey with my friends with hearing impairment.

I admit I am not the fastest signer and I felt inadequate but as time passed, I have learned to communicate using my hands, facial expressions which they love and to lipread as hard as I can.

I thought their world was silent. But hell no! I found out that they are the "noisiest people" in the world. When it comes to telling stories or just talking about a simple experience, they do it with such ardor, enthusiasm. I was instantly addicted to sign language.

My students became my solace. I did not need to mask my pain, for there are no words to rephrase it. Exact sign for an exact word. No pretense and no covering up. I taught them subjects while they taught me to loosen up. I valued more silence and I felt more at peace. Calmness has become my shadow.

It was hard leaving them. I tried to explain that I needed to get richer so I can put up a school for the deaf back home (if only I can win the lottery). Two years has passed  but each day I still miss signing. The mutual connection you have with a hearing impaired friend, student, colleague is eternal. Sometimes I catch myself signing the words of a song as not to forget them.

From time to time, I teach my bf the simple ones but he says I am too fast. Well he has quite improved, he knows the sign for hi, hello, miss you and of course some profanities.

As long as I live, sign language will always be my third language with English and Filipino. However, its meaning, the way it saved me from telling myself that I am a failure, that I can still do something helpful and at the same time enjoyable is enough for me to never forget it. In the subway, whenever I see people signing, I eavesdrop and decipher what they are talking about or In just "greet" them and a conversation starts automatically.

To my friends, you taught me the value of true listening. I miss you constantly each day I am away from you.

Lessons Learned from the Sphinx

Kindergarten in Harvard University?

I attended a workshop today
It was about effective writing
It's writing put into play
But I say it is so confusing

Frustrated Incorporated

          Last week was so physically tiring, emotionally draining and sanity testing for me. First it was my observation (which all teachers go through) by none other than the Supervisor for Special Education in the Bronx. I have passed all my observations with satisfactory ratings but each time, I still get jittery. My friends told me there is no reason to be nervous, I am good at my craft (Thank you, colleagues) and I am known to be organized, strict but supportive to my class. Monday went well and I got great reviews, I felt like a movie which did not flop in the tills. However that morning proved to be one of the days that I shall never forget. It was the day I saw the brutality that a parent can do to a child.
As I was preparing for my lesson, I noticed one of my students slowly coming into the room. She caught my attention because she usually burst into the room with aplomb and always greets me with her toothless smile. I also noticed she did not want to look at me when I said "Good morning." I let it pass since I was too busy organizing the learning centers. Alas! When we were in the meeting area, as I was doing my mini lesson. I saw a HUGE BLACK EYE on her face. I immediately stopped and not to create chaos, I told the class to do independent reading. I called her and ask "What happened to your eye?" She looked at me and  said a name. My heart went out to her. Sure she can be a handful and many times she gets on my nerves but this is wrong. I know a simple bruise from a solid black eye. I asked someone to take her to the nurse. As mandated, I reported it to my immediate supervisors. I asked them if I needed to fill up a form so they can start the investigation. They said no need since they will take care of it. Tuesday came and I followed it up and was answered in the same manner, "Everything will be fine, we are on top of it." Then Thursday came, I met the guidance counselor in the hallway, I asked her about the case of my student. She reacted liked I asked her if she has been to London. To cut the long story short, she never received any complaint or notice about the incident. I was furious and I showed it. I showed it like I was a spewing volcano. I thought, "I trusted them , I followed protocol. Now how come they don't do their part?" She sensed that my claws are already sharpened so she tried damage control. She said she will get back to me. After 3 minutes, I got a call from my supervisor saying that SHE DID NOT understand what I was telling her that day and THAT I NEEDED TO FILL UP A FORM so we have proof to build a case against the family. I said okay in a monotone voice. B***shi*! This is not what I expected. I expected that as one of the higher ups, they have the authority to PROTECT the students of the school. Here comes the counselor again, with a pen and notepad. I sensed her uneasiness and was even stammering while talking to me. In just 5 minutes, I finished the form and handed it to her. I looked at her icily while I instructed my kids to practice their ABC's with play dough. She read to me senseless questions that even a moron can answer like if I noticed something unusual with the child (hello? black eye, dirty clothes, no homework) I bought all her stuff not to brag and tried to call her parents but it seems like the three numbers they gave me are not working. She kept on apologizing with the way things went. I just told her "I understand you are in a tight position but will the school wait for a child to die before they do anything? I care for these children so much and I cannot accept incompetence." She blushed and I mentioned about the case of a little girl from Brooklyn last year who was sexually assaulted, beaten, tied to a chair and drowned in the bath tub by her stepfather while her mother watched the whole thing.I do not want any of these horrific things to take place. I know how it is to be beaten as a child. I know what fear is and the distrust that builds up when the people who are supposed to give you love are the persons who see you as living punching bags. I still bear the scars but I moved on. It was a long battle but I am lucky for I am alive. (I run away as soon as I can, away from them). However for these kids, I do not know what lies ahead for them. I keep them under my wings but I cannot stop the fangs of snakes around them. I showed my frustration but I remained professional but I promised myself, I will be more than 100 % on guard with my students. If I ever meet the person who did this to her, I do not know if I can control myself. Perhaps, the school will not be too scared to act for fear of being labeled a true "at risk" school. Come to think of it, we are already for the longest time.

 Today went well during my observation. My partners in the classroom and me worked together to help the kids learn and apply the concept of colors. It was just fulfilling that at least more than half of my class have learned already to differentiate bblue from red, yellow from green and that brown is not the same as black. I got very good feedback from the Supervisor of Region One for Special Education in the Bronx. I learned some important things today.

1.  Always work well with your partners/ paras in the room, never look down upon them and call them assistants. Mas malakas ang hatak nila kesa sa administration. Pakisamahan mo sila and they got your back. Bad- tripin mo sila, di ka nila tatantanan hanggang mag resign ka o habang buhay kang walang respeto mula sa kanila

•  Teaching for eight years in special education
• Brought me joy, tears and life lessons
• Each year is a challenge, a difficult beginning
• And at the end, I made a mark on a child’s life    

• I never imagined being in this profession
•  After college, I dreamed of being in an office
• Interviewing, screening and hiring workers
• But I end up in the teaching world      

• How did it come to this? Simple
• Lack of job opportunities, unstable economy
• Too much competition, too much politics
•  I gave it a try, I said only for a while      

• Three months gave way to a year
• I did not like it at all, I dread work
• Drooling children, hyperactive kids
• But the competitor in me prevailed      

• Yes, I was intrigued and challenged
• I thrive in proving something
• My life is filled with drama
• Hardships and obstacles      

• I know problems by heart even by category
• Simple that can be solved by common sense
• Serious ones that need rational thinking
• And the grey areas which just confuse you      

• I think I mastered how to ride
• This roller coaster ride of life
• A year stretched to three
• Then to five then to eight      

• Each year, I tell myself "I want to quit"
• I am so tired physically, emotionally
• But when June or September comes
• I decorate my room like it is Christmas      

• I taught so many students
• With different disabilities
• And their degrees of deficits
• Some functional, many are severe      

• I have been spit at, punched on the nose
• Kicked at the back, a piece of hair cut
• Hit by a chair, called a whore
• And called many ugly names      

• I get angry, really angry with them
• But somehow, I have been so patient
• Unusually patient and understanding
• They cannot control themselves      

• I ask oftentimes, "Am I normal?"
• Or I am apathetic already
• To the "abuses" that teaching brings
• Or simply because I love them      

• My students educated me
• Before I have too high standards
• That nothing or no one is good enough
• But now, I celebrate the littlest success      

• If a student in a wheelchair
• Gets mocked and laughed at
• I challenged him to a race
• And I smile when I am out of breath      

• If a student sees letters in reverse
• I show him how I cannot see
• Without glasses, I am frustrated too
• Then we work together as a team      

• If a student calls me a she dog
• I bite my tongue, look him in the eye,
• And say, "Oh. I look like a dog, a poodle
• or a chowchow?" Humor does it      

• If a student cannot move his hands
• He trembles like a mad man
• I give him the biggest pencil
• Make him feel he can and he will      

• If a student struggles to read
• I give clues, codes, and cues
• I whisper not to embarrass him
• And give high 5’s when he gets it      

• If a student hits me with a chair
• I dock, of course!
• After everyone beats him
• I let him know I forgive him      

• If a student attempts to run out of the room
• I give him a choice always before the door opens
• "That is being a gangster or a bum in the street"
• "Successful people learn first in class"      

• If a student fights like a killer
• I grab him and hold him like glue
• I raise my voice and use force if needed
• Rather than see his head open      

• If a student speaks differently
• I talk to him normally
• Like he is the same as everyone
• No special treatment, no excuse      

• If a student cannot speak
• Or express his needs and wants
• I teach sign language
• Then sounds, then words      

• If a student tells me "I hate you."
• I hold my breath, ask
• "Let us talk about it,
• What’s wrong with me?"      

• There are days I am alright
• Calm and sensible
• But there are days
• That I turn into an ogre      

• I am that troll who lives under the bridge
• Disciplining the "goats" as they pass by
• Sometimes you need to be tough
• To break that shell of stubbornness      

• I am a teacher, I live the job
• Weekdays and even weekends
• I am not perfect but I try
• To make a difference      

• Not to be a mediocre educator
• Or worst, the complacent one
• I challenge my class and myself
• At the end, it all pays off

Huwebes ng nakaraang linggo

Toxic ang classroom ni Ms.T

Naiiyak na siya, gusto ng maghubad

Sa inis, sa pagod, sa gulo

Tinambak kase ang isang buong klase

Sa kanyang klase na 10 klase na ang equivalent

Siyempre hindi pwede tumanggi

Green card nakasalalay

May mga kasama naman siya na mga paras

Pero talagang ibang klase ang mga bata

Parang pinagsama mo ang Clorox at Ammonia

Halos mahilong talilong na siya

Inalis na ang blazer, nakatali na parang labandera

Ang buhok, mga kalyo sa paa mas lalo kumapal

Nakatayo buong maghapon

Sigaw dito, sigaw doon

Dahil ang 2 bata ay tatalon sa bintana

Yung 5 nagbubugbugan, yung isa nangungulangot

Pinapahid sa 4 na babaeng maaarte

Tinawag si Ding, wala ang bato

Maloloka na dahil sa hirap

Ilang oras pa ba?, 1 and 1/2 hours pa

Prep, science teacher na ang pumasok

Pati siya namutla dahil sa dami ng wildebeests

Umupo si Ms. T, hinarap ang homeworks

Check dito, sulat sa parent na padalan ng diaper si Junior

Biglang lumapit si cute na si M, nakahelmet

"Ms.T?"

"WHAT!???? I am busy, get off my table!"

"I AM SO TIRED! GO to the Rug!"

"Ms. T, I NEED A HUG"

Oooopppppppsssssssss

"Sorry M, here Ms. T will give you a big hug!"

Nawala lahat ng pagod ni Ms. T

One with the Universe na naman siya

2: 45 pm, uwian na! Awa ni Buddha!

Pagdating sa apartment, bagsak sa kama

sabay hilik na parang kalabaw

Nanaginip na naging sun ang ulo sa init nito

 Today is the third day of school. Things are pretty much going well and I am beginning to love my kindergarten class. My head is filled with a lot of art and music activities even their graduation which is still next year. I have 8 of them and the class is still growing. Mainly, they have physical disabilities and have ADHD. So these 8 chilren are equal to 20 students. I have to be extra careful around them making sure that the set up is accommodating to them.

Lynne, my Filipino co teacher told me a very disturbing story while we were going home. A student was enrolled in her class. She was escorted with her mother to the classroom so she can see her classmates. Her mother upong seeing two children in wheelchairs, said this type of children. She is so twisted to think that being around a person in a wheelchair will harm you or influence negative behavior. I know these two children, I handled them for two years and I have seen beyond their "wheels". They are children and learners just like any student in PS 132. I hated the story and I wished I had met the mother. I wished I could educate her and ask her the ultimate question,

"WHAT IF IT IS YOUR CHILD IN THAT WHEELCHAIR?"

It has only been three days but we already come across parents who are in dire need of re- education.