Born to Teach

I was born to teach. I didn't go out of my mother's womb grasping a chalk in one hand and unfurling a lesson plan in the other. I could only imagine how many doctors or nurses in the delivery room would have shrieked or fainted. It wasn't like that. In fact, my birth into this calling to teach was slow and a bit later than my actual biological birth.

It started with an assigned special report by my grade school science teacher. Being the eager and competitive student that I used to be, I volunteered for this one. If you haven't noticed, the previous statement is actually a euphemism for being a nerd. Anyway, my task was to find out how electricity is generated by electricity providers and provided to the houses of consumers. This took a little research, a visit to the local electric company, and an hour or two to rehearse my report.

Presentation day came. And although I practiced to make it the best report my science teacher had ever witnessed, something else happened unexpectedly. I just didn’t report. I stood in front and started with a question that perked my classmates’ interest. I explained the entire mumbo-jumbo carefully noticing any raised eyebrow, blank stare, or any hint that my classmates were lost in the maze of electrical circuits I was showing them. I would backtrack and then move on when I see nods and expressions of amazement at the concepts. I couldn’t explain how good it felt to find out that my classmates were learning from me. It wasn’t about how good I was as a reporter anymore. I was teaching.

Teaching and I had a relationship that sparked during first sight but did not have enough wood to fuel the passion. Because I was fond with science and was one of the top students in school, everyone including myself expected me to become either an astronaut, a biologist, an astronomer, a lawyer, or any profession that was unique. It was a good conversation piece when I grew up. I imagine people asking me “So what do you do?” and I’d respond confidently and arrogantly “Oh, I’m an astronomer” or “I’m a defense lawyer for the Commission on Human Rights” or something to that effect. But not “I teach.” Where was the exceptionality in that, the dreamy little child that I was wondered. No offense meant to all the teachers including myself. This was just a rumination of a school child.

I grew up, went to a science school, and got a college degree. A total of eight years passed. And unexpectedly, after graduation I found myself back to where I was in grade school —in front of people, teaching. I work in the human resources department. And out of all the possible assignments I could become interested in, it was with training employees. Somewhat akin to teaching. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted to teach in the academe and mould young minds where raw potential abound. A phone call to my alma mater revealed that I have to take up a masters’ degree for me to teach. After three years in the graduate program, I was reunited with my first love. Just this year, I joined the academe. This is on top of a fulltime job in the hospitality industry and finishing my thesis for my masters’ degree.

Several friends ask me why I want to teach despite my hectic schedule? Was I going crazy? Yes, I was crazy and passionate with teaching. I have shared how my passion for teaching started. But I suppose you still find my answer to why I love teaching vague. Let me help you with that.

I love teaching because I get to act out my frustration in the performing arts. For real? Yes. I get to become a comedian, sometimes a poet, at times a singer singing a couple of lines, an orator, and a game show host. I become all of these to illustrate a discussion topic or get my point across. I resort to these to draw my students’ attention back when their attention seems to be straying into oblivion.

On a selfish note, I admit that I want to be surrounded with young people because I have always known I had a young soul in me that made me relate to my students. Yet this same soul is also old and willing enough to share knowledge, experiences, and wisdom to them.

I love teaching because teaching is such a humble yet noble calling. We teachers are humbled because we realize that we are just a tiny part of something bigger. We do not make big business decisions. We do not make markets rise or fall down. We do not create history. But it is in this humbling realization that I grasp the nobility in this calling. It is true that we do not create history. We create something more. We leave a legacy. Teachers create a ripple whose impact will last through the fabric of time.

They say that if you find your purpose in life, your compass will find its north. Life will be meaningful. As young as I am (or am I?), I am glad that I have found one of my norths. I see myself growing old as a teacher among many other things. And I look forward to many years of touching the lives of my students.