By your pupils you shall be taught
April 23, 2006 | 12:00am
Me, teach? Not for all the To Sir With Love, self-sacrificing hoopla. With that, I watched my career balloon go pffft in a yet-to-come future as a teacher in a learning institution.
I had no idea what career to choose. But thanks to a college degree, I accrued a resumé that read like a delicious paella. It was a career paved with personal triumphs, laughs, camaraderie and my share of the so-called "baptism(s) of fire." In time, I acquired survival instincts that shielded me from jealous raiders and tall poppy villains.
After clocking more than 30 years of rising early and sleeping late, I quit.
There I was, staring at the horrible stain on the mahogany table. I applied almond oil and rubbed it steadily until the stain disappeared. Glancing at my reflection in the mirror, I heard myself ask, "And I obtained a college degree for this?"
I get these Is-there-all-there-is-to-it? moments. But I easily snap out of it when I think of all the delightful trade-offs retirement had brought me.
Take the time I met up with former schoolmates Marfina Teodoro and Chiqui Server. Marfina was our class president and she went on to develop her own line of sturdy and fashionable leather shoes. Chiqui has made a piquant amalgam out of being a housewife, a grandmother and a committed member of her civic-oriented community.
These ladies followed calendars that were anything but laid-back. However, they have their respective schedules down pat so that each endeavor was given equal time and billing.
Marfina spoke first: "Sister Bernadette Casas, a former classmate in high school, invited us to visit the San Juan Nepomuceno School in Malibay, Pasay. What I saw pulled me out of my comfort zone. The nuns had taken up the daunting mission of educating young, beautiful and impressionable minds with very thin and meager resources."
Instantly, my mind formed this image of religious nuns living in frugal surroundings. They are buoyed by a spirit of charity that moved them to see beyond the frailty and sometimes ugly reality of inner city living.
Think of thick pockets of humanity living in substandard houses (shanties really) in narrow streets crammed with chockablock children. While one could find good people struggling to make a decent living in deplorable conditions, there would be those who would choose to take the not-so-decent route devoid of value and guilt.
This is where the nuns play a crucial role. Through education, they hope to inspire young minds and lead them to a bright and respectable tomorrow. This is serious stuff.
Chiqui has visited the school many times before and treats it like an extension of her outreach projects. She said, "You cannot do enough for these children."
I thought of the years that I spent as a pupil and I remembered more days of fun and friendship rather than serious studying. Above all, I didn’t worry about meals, books, uniform, transportation, tuition, and sundry fees. We were the lucky ones.
We decided to visit Sister Bernie in her home turf where we also met Sister Sally and Sister Lydia. Just when we were about to visit the classrooms, Sister Bernie turned to Sister Sally and asked, "Where is Sister Encarnacion?"
"She’s in the Infirmary treating young patients," came the reply. I raised my eyebrow because I saw Sister Lydia pointing towards the kitchen and not the infirmary.
"Ah, Sister Lydia, did you mean the kitchen?"
Sister Bernie laughed and explained, "We had this alarming occurrence. Children were showing up in school looking ghost white, feeling nauseated, dizzy and sometimes fainting altogether. In the beginning I thought we had an epidemic in our hands. Was it some kind of toxic gas or environmental pollution that was affecting the children? Further questioning revealed that they had gone to school famished. The last meal they took was breakfast of the previous day, and their parents could not do anything because there was simply no food to feed them. But these children would risk going hungry than skipping school."
"Since that time," Sister Encarnacion continued, "we always set aside food for the children. Our version of first aid consisted of hot bread and a glass of Milo and the children snapped back to life." In this school, infirmary is synonymous with kitchen.
"Do you ever run out of food yourself?"
Sister Lydia smiled, "This is where our prayers are answered."
I passed a row of potted plants and commended the nuns for having a green thumb. Sister Bernie whispered, "Many of our children have never seen a green plant in their lives, so we decided to convert our fire wall into a little hanging garden."
The garage that doubled as a playground and assembly hall has tall fruit trees where the children could catch some shade and cool themselves. It’s the closest to nature that they had ever experienced.
I opened a door to a bare and quiet room where a votive light was burning. It was the school chapel. Towards a glass window, a piece of paper sat next to a wall with the following inscription, "Recognize God in others, especially the least, the last, and the lost."
Sister Bernie took us to a small office and introduced the principal of the school, Miss Josephine Malabayabas. It turned out that Miss Josephine was an alumna of San Juan Nepomuceno. She returned to the school of her youth after finishing a degree in education and has gone full circle. The pupil is now a teacher.
The children had just finished taking their final exams and we were pleasantly surprised when they gathered in the playground to sing and dance for us. Clearly, they looked like angels in uniform.
I approached an eight-year-old boy, Ed Mark. He just completed Grade 3. He sported a cute but shy grin. His eyes were clear and probing. His parents had been separated before he was born and he lives with his mother and lolo. Ed Mark was not interested in seeking out his father. When I asked him what he learned from the nuns, his quick reply was, "They taught me to be honest and to strive hard." He wants to be an engineer so he can build houses, one for his mother and another for his lolo. He dreams of someday experiencing winter and playing in the snow. He loves ice cream.
Queena, a Grade 5 pupil, exhibited more confidence. She dreams someday of finishing law so that she can "save the innocent." She told me that she learned to be humble and generous from the nuns. She has never flown on a plane and wants to visit her relatives in Cebu. Her favorite dish? Pizza.
The children that I met all had sunshine written on their happy faces. They were well mannered and sincere.
The nuns have provided a safe and clean environment where they can feel like they do matter and they’re special. With training tools and spiritual lessons made available to them, these children would grow in wisdom and compassion and hopefully, seek more fulfilling lives. The idea of paying it forward would not be lost in these young minds.
While going over their teaching material (mostly donated), we talked about Cardinal Rosales and his emphasis to teach cathechism to the underprivileged. I learned about the Theology of the Crumbs. It means, "We can do simple things to improve one’s life and one’s outlook, and it would take only very little, as small as a crumb, to make it happen."
Outside of the school grounds, when these children return to their humble dwelling places, when harsh reality alters the scene all too quickly for them, what walls and defenses would they need to put up to survive the most wretched of circumstances?
They have already taught us a lesson or two.
Deepen your own life by supporting a mission school. The rate of return is a heart full of peace.
To raise funds in support of the school and their urgent needs, the friends and alumnae of Assumption College is sponsoring a golf tournament called "Golfers de Mayo" on May 8 at Sta. Elena Golf Club. Registration starts at 6:30 a.m. and shotgun is at 7:30 a.m. Lily Chan at 840-5373 would be happy to provide further details.
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