Promotion is not my Mission
Dark clouds started to clothe the sky around 3 o’ clock in the afternoon. Trees started to dance with the cold and strong wind. I started to place empty plastic glasses and basins on the floor perpendicular to the holes on our roof. Surely, a heavy rain will come.
Few minutes after the clock struck four, heavy rain started to pour. The path in front of my classroom started to flood and groups of pupils were running on their way home. I on the other hand was graced enough to have a comfy ride on my way home. As the vehicle I am in passed the one and only route from Barobo to Valencia and vice versa, I can’t help but be amazed and bewildered with the faces of the pupils who were walking their way home. Everyone, from preschool to sixth grade, were smiling and laughing despite of the heavy rain they have to endure as they head to their homes which for some could be an hour of walk and for others could be almost a couple of hours of trek. Many of them left their stuff in school and brought only their empty food containers while a few covered their stuff with plastic bags. Umbrella is a luxury the way I see it for them.
I was raised in comfort by God through my grandmother. I haven’t experienced coming to school with an empty pocket and stomach. I haven’t experienced walking for more than an hour everyday on my way to school. My kind of “poverty” can be seen as “wealth” by the pupils I am looking at on that rainy afternoon. I felt a pang of shame for myself as I look back to my complaints in life. “I don’t want to teach anymore”, I hysterically complained one afternoon to my grandmother back in June, 2017. I labelled my first month in the public school where I was assigned as a total disaster and disappointment. My makeshift classroom is nearly haunted, my class composed of 20 boys and 6 girls possess a very challenging behaviour and all the things I’ve learned in college completely flew out of the window. I remembered begging my grandmother to allow me to resign as soon as possible and study law instead in the university where I earned my Bachelors Degree in Elementary Education. My grandma sternly said, “No, God spared your life many times back in college, allowed you to finish education, graciously allowed you to pass your licensure exam and eventually made you a teacher. He never makes mistake, but you ALWAYS do. Stay where you are planted”. Her words didn’t give me newfound optimism. I became sullen.
Why should I be a teacher? I don’t have a grand answer or a correct one probably. As I type this, what I have in mind is that I’ll be a teacher because God equipped me to be a teacher. I can see that I have a gift in teaching (no matter how many times I have abhorred it then). Surely, God has a purpose why I was sent in the school where I am in. The life I have right now isn’t about me. I shouldn’t be at the center of this. Now that my old self has been crucified with Christ, I live in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God. I will no longer teach for the sake of earning through teaching. I am a teacher because it is through teaching that I could share the Gospel which led me to the One who loves me the most that He gave His life for me. In the small world of teaching, it is crystal clear for me that promotion is not my mission.
The pair of slippers I wore was muddy and I am quite damp but, I thank God for the heavy rain…
Few minutes after the clock struck four, heavy rain started to pour. The path in front of my classroom started to flood and groups of pupils were running on their way home. I on the other hand was graced enough to have a comfy ride on my way home. As the vehicle I am in passed the one and only route from Barobo to Valencia and vice versa, I can’t help but be amazed and bewildered with the faces of the pupils who were walking their way home. Everyone, from preschool to sixth grade, were smiling and laughing despite of the heavy rain they have to endure as they head to their homes which for some could be an hour of walk and for others could be almost a couple of hours of trek. Many of them left their stuff in school and brought only their empty food containers while a few covered their stuff with plastic bags. Umbrella is a luxury the way I see it for them.
I was raised in comfort by God through my grandmother. I haven’t experienced coming to school with an empty pocket and stomach. I haven’t experienced walking for more than an hour everyday on my way to school. My kind of “poverty” can be seen as “wealth” by the pupils I am looking at on that rainy afternoon. I felt a pang of shame for myself as I look back to my complaints in life. “I don’t want to teach anymore”, I hysterically complained one afternoon to my grandmother back in June, 2017. I labelled my first month in the public school where I was assigned as a total disaster and disappointment. My makeshift classroom is nearly haunted, my class composed of 20 boys and 6 girls possess a very challenging behaviour and all the things I’ve learned in college completely flew out of the window. I remembered begging my grandmother to allow me to resign as soon as possible and study law instead in the university where I earned my Bachelors Degree in Elementary Education. My grandma sternly said, “No, God spared your life many times back in college, allowed you to finish education, graciously allowed you to pass your licensure exam and eventually made you a teacher. He never makes mistake, but you ALWAYS do. Stay where you are planted”. Her words didn’t give me newfound optimism. I became sullen.
Why should I be a teacher? I don’t have a grand answer or a correct one probably. As I type this, what I have in mind is that I’ll be a teacher because God equipped me to be a teacher. I can see that I have a gift in teaching (no matter how many times I have abhorred it then). Surely, God has a purpose why I was sent in the school where I am in. The life I have right now isn’t about me. I shouldn’t be at the center of this. Now that my old self has been crucified with Christ, I live in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God. I will no longer teach for the sake of earning through teaching. I am a teacher because it is through teaching that I could share the Gospel which led me to the One who loves me the most that He gave His life for me. In the small world of teaching, it is crystal clear for me that promotion is not my mission.
The pair of slippers I wore was muddy and I am quite damp but, I thank God for the heavy rain…
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