I miss teaching. I miss being in the classroom. It’s been awhile since I had my last class. It’s been awhile since I made my last lesson plan. It’s been awhile since I last attended a school activity.

I miss school. I miss the noise that used to annoy me. It’s been awhile since I last freaked out in front of the class because my students were unruly. It’s been awhile since I last laughed my heart out because of some funny and crazy incidents and antics that my students were capable of doing. It’s been a while since I last got impressed by my students’ ability to do a task or two.

I miss my students. I miss my students despite the fact that they exasperate me. It’s been a while since I last had a meeting with a parent due to a student’s bad behavior. It’s been awhile since I last received a letter from my student telling me how I inspire her. It’s been awhile since I last had a heart to heart talk with a student who was pouring out her personal problems with me.

I miss my life as a teacher. I miss the classroom… the chalkboard… the chalk… the eraser. I miss my students… their innocent outlook in life… their thoughtfulness over simple things… their playfulness and unreluctant attitude towards doing new things… their inability to hold grudges on people who fail them. I miss a lot about my life as a techer. And having taught for 11 long years, I really need a lot of time to getting used to - the new life that I have now. I need to un-teach myself and get used to not being in the classroom for a long long while.

I taught Asian History in High School.

History is not the kind of subject that kids would usually find interesting. I hated that subject myself when I was in High School. And little did I know that I will become a teacher someday… much less a History teacher for that matter.

History is the kind of subject that you always find so relaxing… so calming… so comforting because you tend to fall asleep during this period. I usually get reprimanded by my History teacher back in High School because she always caught me sleeping on my desk in the middle of the discussion.

History is the kind of subject that kids would usually skip… play hookie… or drop out because it’s boring. I usually got an F on tests and quizzes because I can’t memorize important dates, events and significant people who made significant impact in history.

And so I taught History subject in High School.

Equipped with my personal bitter-and-not-so-promising-nor-noteworthy experience with the infamous subject, I tried to innovate. I tried to make learning History fun and interesting. I was able to make it more interactive and exciting. I made it more enjoyable for fear that my students would also fall asleep in the middle of my discussion. I can’t afford to give Karma a chance on my class.

One of the innovations that I injected in my lesson planning is the Election Season. I let my students have a mock election as an activity where they were able to experience how to register as voters, campaign as political candidates, count votes as election staffers, and stay vigilant as citizens waiting for the result of the election.

It was a learning experience for both my students and me. Election season is here again and in a week’s time, a new President will assume power to lead one of the most powerful nations in the world. Looking back I remember that I always taught my students at the end of the culminating activity only one thing… “What you learned now is not just a lesson for today but rather, a preparation for the future.”

Our Youth is the future leaders of our nation. If we will be able to instill good values and well-grounded principles and ideals in their early age, we can be sure that we will have the best people to lead us. And History will no longer be just a boring subject but an important venue in creating an ideal society.

Success is fundamental. To someone who works hard to achieve his dreams, success is ultimate. To someone whose life is geared towards success, it’s crucial to his existence. And to someone who dreams it, success is his life itself.

Success can be subjective. As a teacher, I witnessed how my students out-done themselves in terms of accomplishing their goals no matter how simple, small and irrelevant they were. I witnessed how their small achievements empowered them to work harder. And I witnessed too how failure to achieve their goals demoralized their weak souls.

As a teacher, I didn’t make “success” as part of my lesson plan. I didn’t teach success. I never taught them that success is synonymous to happiness. I never taught them that success is what life is all about. And I never taught them that success is the reward of education.

As a teacher, I taught them to live life to the fullest. I taught them to appreciate God’s blessing no matter how small they are. I just taught them how to dream “dreams”. But that lesson… is not strictly for my students only.

My 4th Grader, 10 year old niece would be the only and the youngest drop-out in the family. My brother told me that Lara is dropping out from school. Lara is a vibrant and smart little girl. She was accelerated from nursery to kindergarten the first time she entered school because she was too smart for her age. At the age of 4 and before she formally went to school, she already knew her ABCs. She can count up to 100. She can identify all the shapes [including the pentagon, the hexagon and the octagon]. She can even name all the 9 planets of the solar system and she knew that the sun is not a planet but rather a star. She was even able to write her first story book even way before she can actually write. She would dictate to “Auntie” her creative ideas and I would type it on the computer while big sister was making sure that auntie was really typing down what she was saying.

But Lara is not having fun in school this year. She is not the same little girl who is always excited to go to school even if she has no new school bag. She used to love school even if she has no new school supplies like crayons. Last year, she told her Dad that she wanted to join the drawing contest. But my brother told her not to because she has no new crayons. She came home that day with a medal for winning first place in the drawing contest. My brother realized that Lara just borrowed some crayons from her classmate so she can join.

This year, Lara lost interest in school. She comes home crying almost everyday. My sister-in-law asked her why she doesn’t like school anymore. And the reason she gave her was something she couldn’t take for granted. She went to the school the following day and told the teacher that Lara will stop going to school for the meantime and will just take a vacation until she is ready to go back again or perhaps… she will be homeschooled.

Lara is just like any students. She may even like some of the students who I handled in the past. Lara lost interest in school because of her “teacher”. According to her… her teacher is always mad every time she asked her questions about the lesson. It turned out that Lara would ask questions about the lesson and the teacher didn’t like to repeat the lesson. It turned out the Lara cannot understand her lessons and the teacher was not willing to teach or make extra effort in explaining the lessons. It turned out that the attitude of the teacher affected Lara’s attitude towards school. It turned out that Lara’s teacher was always angry and mad at the students who didn’t understand her lessons. It turned out that the teacher was always hollering at Lara every time she asked questions and that scared her. Now she doesn’t want to go to school anymore.

On the hindsight, I realized that a teacher can make or break a student’s soul. I could be guilty of all those accusations. I realized that I am not a perfect teacher myself. I can get angry at times. I can be impatient at times. And I could be grumpy at times. I could also be guilty in being a human being capable of human mistakes and frailty. But I know that is not an excuse.

As a teacher I have responsibilities beyond what I am expected to handle. As a teacher, it is not my  responsibility to judge my students but rather, accept them as they are. As a teacher, I hold in my hands the future of my students and what they become in the future is my greatest achievement or my worse failure. As a teacher, it is not important if I finished the lesson or if I was able to execute my lesson plan or not. As a teacher, it is not important if I pass all my students regardless if they learned from me or not. As a teacher, what is important is that… my students learn to love learning and strive to continue learning even after they left school.

One of the best lessons I learned from my students is patience. I had to admit “Patience” is not my middle name. It has never been and [I thought] it will never be. But surprise… surprise… who could have thought that one day I would wake up to a brand new day with the word ‘patience’ written all over my forehead?

Teaching is a continuous and endless lesson of patience, so to speak. Trying to understand teaching in that context, the teaching profession is for the patient and gifted people with compassion for kids who are both patient and impatient. They say that the teaching profession is a noble vocation but they did not say that you should be a saint to be one. However, you are considered a good person if you are a teacher because patience is a virtue. And that virtue it is enough to be able to handle kids with great compassion. So, “Why did I become a teacher?”… You would ask. “I don’t know.”… I would reply back.

Here is the thing. My reasons may be shallow and selfish but somehow along the way I have realized that they are the only way I could make that drastic decision to change career and see the teaching profession in an entirely different light. My reasons are too shallow that looking back now, I could just give a shrug and laugh about it. My reasons are shallow alright but they are my redeeming factor to change my middle name to “Patience”.

It was not that easy. Being used to my old ways, it was not easy to make some changes to become an effective teacher. I had to admit I failed a lot of times. But I am also proud that I always stood back up each time that I fell. And for those 11 long years of dealing with patience and self-control, I had to admit I become the person that I thought I’ll never be. And for that… I have my students to thank for.

Now that I am no longer in the classroom and don’t have to deal with students, still… “Patience” works well with me. I am now using my acquired “middle name” to deal with my daily routine. I use my middle name to deal with my Hubby and my 7-year old step-son who is diagnosed with autism spectrum. My middle name helps me deal with my new life out of my comfort zone… with my new found family… with the culture shock… and with my future as an out-of-school teacher.

One of my greatest joy as a teacher is when my former students still remember me after so many years of being away from their dear Alma Mater. It makes me proud being their teacher. Some of them are very verbal about how I made a difference in their lives. But what they don’t realize is that they also made a big difference in mine.

Last week when I went for my regular run I came up with a new idea to get in touch with my former students. You see, I used to be the adviser and moderator of our school paper. I trained students for the inter-school contest in campus journalism and I am proud to say that we always bring home awards. My students enjoyed writing as much as I do. We went through a lot putting up the school paper and the experience brought out the best in us.

It has been more than 6 years now since the last school paper that was published under my supervision. Though I still contribute an article in the paper every now and then, I still miss the familiar headache that my students caused me every time we are coming up with an issue. And just last week, out of my delirious excitement I post a Bulletin at my Friendster account to call on my former students and post a blog on my “nagging THOUGHTS. It was just a survey because I am still giving myself a reason not to go through with it because I know deep inside that it will be a big responsibility on my part. But to my surprise, I received a lot of positive responses from former students… former students whom I have not seen for a long time… former students whom I have not heard since graduation day… and students who still have the same passion for writing.

And so I came up with two blogs The Spring Online and the Tagalog version of it Ang Bukal.

These two blogs will be the online version of the school paper that we used to make years ago. The only difference is that we are now free from the school sanction which means – more freedom of press… more liberty to express their emotions… more room for tolerance, leniency and boldness – few of the things we didn’t have back then.

This is my second year as an out-of-school teacher. If we have what we call “out-of-school youth” [school-age kids who are not in school for varied reasons like – poverty, truancy, and lost of interest just to name a few] we also have what we call “out-of-school teachers” [professionals and educators who supposed to be in classroom teaching but they are not for varied reasons like – change of residence, status, career or migration just to name a few ]. Out-of school teachers are those who are deprived of their rights to perform the greatest passion of their life.

For almost two years now, the classroom is the only place I have not been to [except when I need to meet with my step-son’s teachers]. For 11 long years of teaching in the public high school, I realized the importance of my role as a mentor and a teacher not only to my students but for myself as well. The decision I made 12 years ago to join the educational field is indeed the best decision I made so far. The change of career changed my outlook in life. And the career shift opened up to me a different understanding for learning.

I may not be well-compensated for the work I’ve done [monetary wise], but the intangible benefits of seeing my students graduate… earn a degree… start a family… leave the country to seek greener pastures… build their own dreams and achieving them… and reaping success one after another – to me is the most important rewards I’ve ever had. For I believe that their success – is also mine.

11 years have passed and the lessons of the past are still fresh. The special bonds I had with my former students are still tight. The special relationship we had is still intact. And the respect we have for one another is still present. Most of them are still grateful and always looking back. Some have gone the other way and chose not to look back. But there are still a few who keep in touch to continue the learning process.

11 years have passed still some of my students never fail to amaze me. They are still as hungry for knowledge as they used to. 11 years have passed but they still remember the lessons I taught them. 11 years have passed and they are still willing to learn new things from me. And so I thought that my job is already over after the last bell. I thought my job is done after they closed the books. I thought my job ended after they left the classroom. Apparently, a teacher’s job is never done until her students stop learning. And so my work continues even after I left school and become an out-of-school teacher.

I have a fond memory of my first day in school… as a kindergarten kid. I remember my teacher wore a very nice and sexy dress that looked like it came out from a fashion magazine. She wore her thick, back hair long. It was so long and I think it was longer than the dress she was wearing. It was the seventies and the fashion trend that time was hip – women either wore a mini dress or hot pants, they are either strutting in maxi and platform soled shoes or knee-high boots, and they either matched their outfits with sunny attitude or a “peace-man” neck piece or brooch. But other than that, I remember too that I had fun doodling, writing, singing, playing and making friends in kindergarten school. And of course, I also remember that… I graduated [after a year] with some honors.

But I don’t actually remember how I learned to write my long names straight and tidy… how I was able to read other words aside from “apple, banana and cat”… and how I was able to do the “math” in kindergarten… but one thing for sure, I remember that when I entered school I can already identify shapes… know the different colors of the rainbow… can tell time… can recite tons of nursery rhymes and can sing a lot of nursery songs.

I have a fond memory of my “very first” day in school and I have a very vivid memory of my “very first” teacher too. My very first teacher wasn’t wearing hip trendy dress. She was in fact, wearing a nice, clean and fresh smelling house clothes that she made herself and that I loved snipping everytime she would come near me and guide my tiny fingers to properly hold that big black pencil as I wrote my name. I love the feel of my very first teacher’s warm hug as she read to me my very first book while sitting on her lap. And I love the sound of the tapping of that ruler as my very first teacher pointed at the different drawings shapes on the mini chalkboard. And oh how I love the smell of my very first school as my very first teacher finished up cooking the meal of the day while I was finishing up with my school work of the day.

My first day of school was not actually in the real classroom. My first day in school was actually in our living room just across the kitchen. My first school desk was actually the center table of the living room furniture just across my first teacher’s sewing machine. My very first teacher was not a real teacher at all. My very first teacher was in fact, a dressmaker. My very first teacher was actually my mom and she was also the very first teacher of my two brothers.

I have a fond memory of my very first school and my very first teacher. I remember how happy it was learning with my two brothers. It was chaotic but always fun. It was serious but always prolific. It was indeed didactic but always homey. My siblings and I learned almost everything before we actually went to school. But the most important lesson I learned from my very first school and my from my very first teacher was – to stop and smell the roses.

For 11 long years, my life evolved within the confines of the 4 corners of the classroom. It was really not that bad. Actually, I enjoyed it. It was the most fulfilling and most exciting phase of my life. I have learned a lot from that experience. I have witnessed how my students developed certain talents and skills that really amazed me to no end. I was so proud how my students out-done themselves in various activities and became young leaders. But more than anything else, the experience taught me more that what I know about myself.

I am a teacher by profession. I am a teacher by choice. I am a teacher by heart. I love teaching. Despite the fact that towards the end of my career I had some doubts if changing career was indeed the wisest decision I’ve ever made. I still love teaching because deep in my heart I know I have the same passion I used to have the first time I set foot in the classroom. I still love teaching because I can still feel that burning desire to be with the students and share my life experiences. I still love teaching despite the fact that my ideas are somehow clouded by my withered enthusiasm brought by the disillusions I encountered in the field.

When my corporate job was giving me persistent nightmares, caustic hallucination and unhealthy psychological rants… teaching was not really the career I had in mind. All I knew then was, I need a change of career, period! What kind of career? That, I didn’t actually know. I just need an alibi, perhaps to get out of the corporate jungle fast and easy so I took education units to justify that alibi. But little did I know that that decision will end my endless struggle for survival and will start a life I didn’t know exist.