Why Am I a Teacher? (by Ms. J.S.J. Alarcon)

I was browsing Facebook this morning when suddenly the profiles that appeared on the right side of my screen, in the "People you may know" section, caught my attention. The first person that I looked into was a graduate of my Alma Mater and now a College Professor there. The other one is one of my most loved professors at my Alma Mater, the one that reprimanded me years ago because I had habitual tardiness in her subject (that was when I attended summer class, third year) and the one that always announces and appreciates the names of those students who get the first three spots during her exams. *cough*

I am not their friend (who cares?) in Facebook, for the reason that I am too shy and wouldn't bother to add them up.

As I opened the profile of my former professor, I saw in her page (in the About Me Section) the text that you will see below. And I admit that after reading the text, I had much more respect and appreciation with the Teaching Profession --the profession that some, if not most of us, often neglect.

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i am a dreamer and a believer...
i work hard and pray harder...
i don't settle for mediocrity...
i set the standard and follow through.

Why Am I A Teacher?
by: Jennifer S.J. Alarcon
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A speech delivered during the Culminating Activity in an English Proficiency Training at The National Teachers College, Manila, in April 2003.
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Many had long been asking me why I am a teacher. It was only yesterday, when I was invited to speak in my Alma Mater, which had given me the fondest and the not so fond memories that I had grasped the true reason for my becoming a teacher. . .

At the age of 11, I met Mrs. Grey Hair who had made my young life so difficult. As a young child, my only wish was to graduate on top of my class, not because of the prestige I would get, but to avail of the government scholarship which I badly needed because we were not rich. Though I had the same average with the class valedictorian, Mrs. Grey Hair, as the senior among all the teachers had been so powerful to convince everybody that I was not fitted for the position because I was shy, timid, irresponsible, and childish. True enough, I was shy and timid because as a young child, I did not talk too much because I was more inclined in writing. I was irresponsible and childish, according to Mrs. Grey Hair, an HE teacher, because being the youngest in the family, I was so pampered and did not know household chores. Mrs. Grey Hair is here in my heart . . . remembered.

At the age of 12, I met Mr. Elf, a Mathematician. As a high school freshman who wanted to enhance my gift in writing joined an essay writing contest. I won First, but Mr. Elf would not believe and accused me that I had let somebody write it for me. How could it be if it was an on-the-spot writing contest? Was it because I was able to beat his junior and senior pet students? During the awarding ceremony, I was not given the gold medal. When I complained about it, he said that it was a mistake and he would change it later . . . which did not happen . . . Mr. Elf, he would not believe in me . . . Mr. Elf, is here in my heart, remembered.

At the age of 14, I met Mrs. Radical who had become so mean because I had a different religious belief. Once, Mrs. Radical was condemning a man for some ideals she found incomprehensible. With all boldness, I defended the man who happened to have the same religion as I and told her that spiritual things could not really be grasped by a human mind. That began Mrs. Radical’s animosity towards me. With every activity, she would offer additional grade points. I, who was hard-up and would not enjoy secular or worldly happenings would often be absent and had to bear the idea that my classmates were getting so many points, while I remained “zero”. An ambitious, young girl’s dreams were again pulled down. Thanks to Mrs. Radical . . . she is in my heart, remembered.

Then, I told myself . . .

I would be like Mrs. Grey Hair, who would make things difficult for my students! Difficult in a sense that they would realize that education is not easily gained through simple means, but it requires hard work and perseverance. For no challenge is easy, it spells difficult times.

I would be like Mr. Elf, who would not give the gold to students! For “gold” forces one to covet and to steal. I would rather give them the silver, and teach them to work for their own “gold”.

I would be like Mrs. Radical, who would treat my students according to their religious affiliations, till they develop “religious tolerance” that would let them respect beliefs, aside from their own.

Why am I a teacher? It is because of Mrs. Grey Hair, Mr. Elf, and Mrs. Radical in whom I owe a lot of things. Without them, I would not have tasted the bitter which made my sweets, sweeter.

I am a teacher because I have to get even! I need to get back with a vengeance.

I feel the need to reconstruct what they have destroyed and rebuild their ruins.

Teachers? Anyone?