THIS year's graduation season is about to end. Most of the elementary and high school commencement rites have been staged last March. Some of the college graduation ceremonies are to be celebrated the first weeks of this month. Graduations in these parts are one of those memorable family occasions that are immortalized through the framed photos of the graduate and the family that adorn every Filipino sala. For a nation that continues to regard education as a source of family pride and a means for social mobility, these are meaningful moments for both students and their families.
I was fortunate to have been invited to speak before the graduating class of a small public elementary school here in our City. It was an occasion to reflect upon my own academic journey from grade school to grad school. Recounting my own experience as a student and now a teacher, I saw it fit to remind the students that their achievements were not won solely through their own labor and perseverance but also through the collective efforts of their entire family household and others.
Behind every successful graduate are hardworking parents and extended family members who pattern their activities around the requirements of every school day. Before a student reaches school, the kid must have her uniform prepared, given a bath and made to eat breakfast. If fortunate, there is baon and pamasahe or sundo. When the child arrives home, the household responds to a new set of requirements – supper, homework, and review. The cycle continues every school day and the household, like a well-oiled machine, addresses these non-academic yet vital requirements enabling the students in the family to report for class the next day. What drives the average Filipino household to do these things relentlessly day-in and day-out, seemingly against all odds, is a measure of the kind of hope that, we, as a people place on education. Thus, when graduation day comes, the picture on the wall of the occasion is a badge of honor shared by everyone in the household.
However, there is also a silent army of workers not often acknowledged properly for their important roles during these occasions. I told the graduates that while they and their households prepare for every school day, the teacher also wakes up early, draws up her lesson plan, prepares her own breakfast, and braces herself for another day of teaching large class sizes in sweltering classrooms. Just as students brave floods, mud, and rain, the teacher also takes her daily journey to and from school. Oftentimes, the teacher must do these on top of the demands of being a mother of her own household and set of students to take care of.
When I noted that these efforts were surely not commensurate to the meager salary that we receive which, for all intents and purposes, may have already been loaned, I heard chuckles and laughter from the teachers on the side. It is an all-too-familiar predicament among our teachers. One that the protest song Titser by Inang Laya poignantly relays: “Titser, iyan nga ba’y tama? Kakaunti ang kita at may take-home work ka pa. Sa hirap ng buhay, ika’y part-time na tinder ng mga PX goods, panty, bra, longganisa.” Perhaps, teaching is regarded as the “noble” profession to make up for what it cannot provide financially. And it is on occasions like graduations that teachers supposedly receive their psychic reward.
When a student graduates, this means that she has hurdled the mentoring and nurturing of several teachers she had been under. At every year level, a teacher painstakingly prepares the students with the basic knowledge and skills that enables them to absorb more knowledge in the succeeding years of their schooling. Thus, every commencement marks the fruits of the teachers’ collective labor.
As the graduates climbed the stage to receive their diplomas and awards, and as their parents and relatives scramble to capture the moment for posterity with their digital cameras, I am certain that beneath their garish togas and melting make-up, the teachers’ hearts swell with a secret pride. Another year’s worth of labor now being sent off to greater challenges ahead. On their lips whispered prayers of hope that their efforts will ultimately contribute to producing useful citizens of our nation. If only there are also spaces on the walls of every Filipino sala for the many often forgotten teachers who ultimately make every graduation possible.
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(This is the first column of Mr. Arnold P. Alamon for Sun.Star Cagayan de Oro. He is a trained sociologist who has been practicing it for more than a decade. He teaches and does social research. He has co-authored, co-edited and authored books. He previously taught at UP Diliman College of Social Sciences and Philosophy in 1998 to 2004. He also taught part-time at Mindanao University of Science and Technology and Bukidnon State University Extension in Alubijid, Misamis Oriental.)
Arnold P. Alamon