Those Brief Coffee Breaks

I am just a regular coffee drinker, not exactly coffee dependent. I really don’t have insane episodes like some, whose cravings for a cup of coffee is really a matter of life of death.

I occasionally enjoy my cup of coffee whether it may be coupled with silence, deep or nonsensical talks, or hearty laughter. I don’t know what is it about having a warm cup of coffee, clasped in between your palms, that makes the world a little bit slower, giving you a momentary sense of calm.

It’s amusing how this post started about coffee and is about to end being a bit philosophical. I think I enjoy my occasional, brief coffee breaks not because my blood is screaming out for caffeine, but because during those moments, I have an excuse to slow down. During those moments, I have all the right to just be momentarily an observer, to be still, and to just breathe.

With all the conflicting research results regarding the effects of coffee on human health, the non-health-buff-slash-trying-hard-philosopher me, thinks that one of the best moments in life is actually spent sipping a cup of warm, creamy coffee.

To Go Back Home, and Start Leaving a Mark

I am a product of the Philippine public school system---that means my elementary and high school years were spent in our local central school and in our city’s national high school, not to mention my university training in a state university. I certainly know about the bad publicity of our country’s public school, all right. The selling of ice candies and tocinos and other chichirias by the teachers inside the classrooms are actually true. So is the one-(obsolete)-book-per-five-students ratio. But despite all these negative facts and for whatever it’s worth, I’ll have to say that the best teachers and the most promising youth of the country are actually found in the public school system.

Perhaps, I had been so lucky to have been under the training and to have sat in the classes of some of the best and the most resourceful public school teachers. My learning foundations were deeply embedded in me, thanks to my dedicated and very supportive elementary teachers at Man-it Central Elementary School. Right after graduating from elementary, I qualified in the Special Science Program of our public high school and it was there that I was trained to excel in my studies. I was so enthusiastic to learn, and the education and training that were given to us pushed us to transcend from being grade conscious students and to become young people who dream big and who are not afraid to start working hard for those dreams. And when I say, start working hard for those dreams, I mean studying hard to cope with what were expected of us and at the same time, to take advantage of our training and learn as much as we can.

I believe it was at a certain moment in high school when I decided to become a teacher. Sure, we were lucky to have received such good training that it never happened at one point that being in a public school became an issue to me, or made me feel inferior to those who were studying in far more expensive private institutions. At such a young age, I was already deeply moved by stories of other kids who have to cross rivers and mountains just to receive a formal education, of students who don’t get the quality of education that they deserve just because a number of their teachers are misplaced or lack the proper training. I deemed it unfair that I and my classmates get to have some of the best teachers and facilities, while a big portion of students in schools around the country have to be victims of poor service and quality of education.

We all go through that stage when we want to change the world---that’s what happened to me at the age of 14 or 16, maybe. That’s what fired my desire in pursuing a teaching course in the university, despite my parents’ slight disapproval and the raising of eyebrows from most people whom I know of which suggests, “Why take up education?”

The passion to teach, to actually change the world through it, was gradually forgotten between letting life happen and amidst the issues and concerns that I have to deal with as a young teacher and as a young adult who was (and still is) just starting out to grasp the rules of the game in the big, grown up world. 

I started my first year of teaching in a promising new private school in our city---but never forgetting that I have to pay back to the system that had educated me well and provided me means to pave my way towards my dreams. Two, three, and now, five years have passed and I’m still in the private school system. Furthermore, I am teaching away from the country, away from the young people of my country whom I once promised to dedicate my profession and service to.

Yes, I’ve tried getting through to the Philippine public system. I marched on to several qualifying examinations and interviews in my province without any connections, armed only by my young and idealistic spirit, confident that I have it in me the capacity and the grace to teach. With all humility, I have to say that I have topped the examinations and the interviews and with my training, I am certain that I have aced through the class demonstrations. Though I have yet so much to learn and to improve, but teaching is one of the few things that I can do excellently---and I can say that with humility, and without batting an eyelash. But then just like any warrior who marches on with blind faith and optimism, I thought that I was prepared to see the ugly truths inside the system but my spirit was crushed, nonetheless. I have experienced it first hand how a lack of political connection would render you almost powerless and voiceless, I have proven that in some cases (I would not generalize because I still believe in the system despite what I’ve proven to be true), ranking #1 in the whole qualifying and hiring process wouldn’t get you a teaching post, whom you know actually would. For all that I know and have come to accept about the internal workings and the ugly truths about the public school system from years of being under its nurturing and training, the young teacher that I have become was not prepared from the impact of those blows even though I’ve emotionally and mentally psyched myself about that.

This is one of the reasons perhaps why I decided to work here in Thailand, and never actually looked back for almost 2 years. Perhaps, I totally lost my faith in our country’s public school system, or maybe in our country as a whole.

But one can only stay away for too long. Weeks ago, I was blaming my recurrent grumpy moments to my claim of quarter-life crisis. For almost a month since May, I started to get alarmed with the fact that I had been thinking of having a career switch. I think for a month or more since the opening of this academic year, I had become so mechanical, both in my teaching and in forcing myself to wake up every morning. I was seriously, really seriously considering the idea of quitting.

And then, it hit me. I need to go back to the country and teach there. If I had to break walls and pave my own trail into the public school system, then I will do it. Here in Thailand, I had become just any other teacher because I don’t actually have a clear sense of purpose if why am I here. Yes, I’ve learned a lot and gained several insights and experiences which may come in handy once I go back home. But I need to bring back my sense of purpose and to remind myself why I have become a teacher in the first place. I need to be able to wake up not only for myself but for my country as well. It’s not heroism on my part, no---that’s definitely far from it. It’s but a sheer need felt by all teachers who understand that teaching is really indeed a calling. I just need to redeem my faith in our country’s educational system, in our country as a whole, in our leaders, in my own teaching---and I can only do all of those if I’ll go back home. And by that time, for good.