My Vocation As An ESL Teacher

How time has flown. I’m running on my seventh year in my current job yet it seems like only yesterday when I walked along the hallways of a newly-built academy for an interview, anticipating my acceptance in a field that I barely had substantial experience at and no essential qualifications for.

I had liked my brief stint when I taught bookkeeping to a class of young female adults studying in a finishing school – for administrative assistant hopefuls – in the past. So when I decided to quit the accounting profession (as it’s not my true destiny) at the age of 36, the teaching field had already become an appealing option.  On our side of the hemisphere, once you get past the age of 35, you automatically stand an awfully frail chance of undertaking a career makeover or even procuring a level-entry job.

Our Teacher’s Party late last year. That’s me in the middle, wearing a purple dress.

The longest-running occupation I had before this one was my 3 ½ years Accounting and Auditing positions at a leading news publishing firm (before my era of improvident job-hopping). So dissatisfied and insignificant I felt about my work there that I once or twice punched my time card in the morning and went out the whole day to do something else – instead of proceeding into the office. I know, I know, what a horrific thing to do. I was 20 years-old then (It’s the best excuse I could come up with, sorry). At least, I am capable of remorse now. 🙂

My current job has been one of the darlings of my existence largely brought about by my passion for everything English. But things hadn’t been all quite rosy for me. Office politics, you say? Ah yes, I experienced that in the most contemptible fashion hundreds of moonlights ago. I almost got kicked out by my co-pioneers who wanted the non-conformists out of the academy (in which half a dozen of our colleagues fell). What they failed to realize was I am harmlessly and silently invincible. I hanged on. Just like in the many arenas of my life. Besides, my bosses made me stay. Most of the people who schemed for my ouster are gone now. The few that remained I was able to get along by way of civility up to this day. I’ve gotten comfortable with the fact that there’ll always be people who’ll commend my strength and people who’ll be put off by the placid gutsy interiors of mine.

Teaching the English language is easy and pleasurable. I even get a kick out of pronouncing the words and courageously manage a modicum of the British accent every now and then. The straining part is effectively allying with these students who come from one of the most affluent countries in Asia. These people have got fairer skin than most Filipinos, which could only aid in jacking up their superiority complex. They’ve been spoiled by their nation’s wealth and technology the teachers here, almost always, are obliged to dole out concern for their personal well-being. Well, there had been students I couldn’t care less – by reason of misbehavior or ill manners, and there had been students I developed compassion for. My students generally range from 20 years old and above – male and female. Some can be sweet and pleasant and likable you end up doing your very best for them. A perk of this vocation: Once in a while, you cross paths with a student who’d be willing to get molded in his or her English fluency and at the same time be led to a more linear direction to become a better individual. That’s when I feel my most productive while doing my work. You also end up sanguine for these young souls who might find genuine happiness in their tomorrows – despite a culture dictating to them that a plenitude of material possessions is the principal reason for existence.

How do you motivate a class of inhabitants who hardly appreciate the English language? Whose main purpose for learning it is to compete with the rest of their fellow citizens in clinching a high-paying job? That’s the never-ending challenge for ESL instructors like me here. Invariably, the students prefer “free-talking” than learn the rudiments of grammar or render some effort to expand their vocabulary. FYI: they’re better at Science and Mathematics, admittedly. The majority aren’t even into reading any genre of world literature. Funny thing is, they’d request we teach them Tagalog words instead – and as soon as we give in, our deed gets so well-received their faces would gleam in glee. Puzzling.

From middle of last year: That’s me on the left wearing green. I really don’t drink, you know.

A popular personal question that’s been asked of me by my close friends: Do I go out with any of my students? Yes, we teachers do that – e.g., going to the mall, go karaoke singing, club-hopping, drinking and conversation – nonchalantly for reasons of goodwill and diversion. But what about in more than friendly terms, you ask? Uh…it happens. Sometimes. Teacher and student (of the same age) engender romantic feelings for each other – even fall in love (“pol in lab” as we filipinos endearingly termed it here) – and start dating. It’s not tolerated in most academies. Yet it happened to me (and to many other other teachers, too) I confess. A learning experience I don’t intend to go through again. Never. Mark my word :-). Why? I’ve had misgivings if it had been worth it (Translation: the sex wasn’t phenomenal. joke-joke-joke)…although we could only normally think this way from a backward glance.

I know not what the future holds for me, as anything can happen, although I ponder that perhaps this is the last full-time job I’d be holding. It doesn’t pay much, mind you, but the Monday – Friday, 8:00 – 5:00 schedule has been ideal and the job isn’t too demanding. I also get to do other things during off-peak seasons when there aren’t many students. Like reading and writing blogs. He he…

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Since I’ve been frequenting You Tube more often, I get to find the songs I liked when I was a child. The Philippine English song below not only hit our charts but Malaysia’s, as well. Yeah, it’s mawkish. But I’m sentimental – you already know that. And I was only 10 years old then. Surprisingly, the song is about a father who misses his young daughter after they got geographically separated. I didn’t know it then. Again, I was only 10 years old at the time :-). Two versions of the song down here: The first one is the piano version (by a Filipino talent), the second; the original one.

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All I want is

Only to hear you say

That you love me, love me with all your heart, and to say

That you need me, like you’ve never needed anyone before

Except for God and your little dolls and your story books

Just me…

–      Missing You by Rafael Centenera

Thoughts On Writing

Some of the best bloggers write with profound depth and a certain delectable flourish I may never acquire in this lifetime. I’ve a good sense to know they belong to an elite league I can never hope to join. And I’ll be okay with that. Nice thing that I’m one of the most ardent readers in this world, and so what I cannot attain to write I will read in all relish from other more naturally endowed writers.

Love letters and sappy poems I have written and occasionally reread either make me smile or feel sheepish. Inspirational author Sarah Ban Breathnach had said writers often write letters meant to their beloved but always end up seducing themselves instead. That simply validates the magic of the printed word, doesn’t it?

I enjoy sprinkling my compositions with adjectives and adverbs. Likewise, writing in pyrotechnics style can be counted as one of my brash endeavors. I’m wary things might get over the top yet I don’t want to restrain myself either. I intend to be venturesome in some of my approaches here. Not to worry, I’ll make an effort not to go overboard. I can be critical at how I put my words together too. And if ever I’d goof up or overdone it, I would simply hope for the good grace of my readers to forgive and bear with me.

I admit to being guilty of committing more than a few writing sins. Among them is indulging in the use of clichés and hackneyed expressions. I also constantly battle with the problem of dealing with identical words appearing in the same sentence or an adjoining one. Reconstructing a sentence is said to be a sound solution here which I aim to become more at ease at.

I’m not exactly a fan of writing rules and advice, even if they come from the gurus or well-known writers. The use of the passive voice, and running to the thesaurus for assistance have been disapproved by some. I don’t exactly get the reasons why.

I personally believe you can be on your own when it comes to this art and your particular class of readers will simply find you. You eventually evolve with your writing and style. The possibilities are endless. Your capacity can be limitless.

All in the name of good writing I hope.

One of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned: “The most original modern authors are not so because they advance what is new, but simply because they know how to put what they have to say, as if it had never been said before.”

A writer has to have a rich vocabulary to make an impact on me. If your flavorful vocabulary is arranged in the right places, the prose becomes more spirited and spellbinding. I believe too that brevity and simplicity aren’t obligatory in the pursuit of sound writing. As long you can hold my attention and interest with the flow of your delivery, then write on.

My site stats have improved reasonably as of late. Sure I’m like all the other bloggers who glimpse at their stat sites every now and then. The rush I get in watching the numbers climb can be exhilarating. To think that I didn’t even bother to touch this account for some four months last year because I was engrossed in my job teaching a certain someone who badly needed my help.

I confess though that earning a reasonable number of readers is not what I really came here for. To reiterate, this blog I have always intended to dedicate to my only child. My all-time favorite American icon Steve Jobs had told his last biographer Walter Isaacson, whom he had chosen and personally asked to pen his life story, he wanted his children to know him as a person. Hence, Isaacson’s authorized biography of Jobs was realized soon after the latter’s death. I had wanted the same thing for a long time now, albeit I wouldn’t want to wait until I’m at death’s door to pen and wrap up my life saga.

It had got me thinking; wouldn’t it be wonderful if my son knew what his mother was like when she was young or what had gone through her mind at certain times?

I guess I need to get the ball rolling very soon as the slowing down of my mind might come in the not so distant future. One of my biggest regrets in life is I didn’t keep a diary in my younger years which means I’ve been struggling from scratch nowadays.

You may ask, ‘why do it in the blogosphere?’ 

Because of the chance that I may elevate the quality of whatever writing I hope to produce here, knowing the possibility a few kindred souls might unwittingly take a peek.

WordPress has advised not to spotlight too much on the “me, me, me” side of blogging if we want wider readership. But 90% of the blogs I’ve subscribed to and enjoy nonetheless are about the bloggers themselves, their lives and all essentially about them, them, them,.. which I certainly don’t mind.

So I intend to start anytime soon. Things will snowball perhaps. I just pray I won’t grate on my readers’ nerves.

 

Out with the Old, In with the New – What 2012 Holds for Me (part 2)

And so 2011 is closing down as one of my loveliest years ever, a time span I consider both rough and smooth-sailing in most regards.

Once again, I might have earned a few emotional scars from certain heartbreaks, job missteps, and quite recently, a tragic loss I wish would leave my memory for good.

Yet it all comes down to the wonderful reality that I’m still around, hoping that 2012 can now welcome me with open arms..

This was exactly my parting missive on my FB wallpost on New Year’s Eve of last year. I consider it as my closure for the definitive year that has seen me through a series of ups and downs. I felt like there were events I could gladly take with me at the dawn of 2012, e.g., a certain Muse (whatever it is) that crawled its way to my writing has been delightful, as well as the rest of the swell stuff that have made my stay on this planet worthwhile and enjoyable. Yet there are also certain episodes of 2011 I want to get away from as far as I can. Specifically an unspeakable heartache caused by the unexpected loss of a beloved pet and the guilt I’ve felt for not having spent enough time with it before its demise, and all because I was absorbed in something or rather someone that was not even worth my attention. I wonder, how can someone get over an unfortunate circumstance such as this? Others might see me as being too sentimental. I don’t know.. Letting go has always been painful for me. I am really hurting..

I do hope 2012 is going to be another fabulous year as I’ve no plan of slowing down yet. Sometimes though, my body has a way of reminding me that things aren’t the same anymore. Ah aging, I didn’t know it would come so soon.

I often wonder if the gift of years which endowed me with colorful experiences has made me a better person at all. And the more important question, do I know myself much better now after everything I’ve been through? Honestly, I still can’t provide anyone, even myself with a categorical answer.

Just ruminating..

Well, there’s one thing I can say with certainty. I am earnestly shooting for another year of splendor which, they say, will be but a moment in the sun.

We’ll see..

Yes, Filipinos Are Indeed Good At English

It behooves me why my post “On Why Filipinos Are Good In English” has garnered the most number of hits on this blog site. Are people truly wondering why and how good we are at English? I’m an ESL teacher in an English Academy here in the city capital of the Philippines. And I didn’t even major in English. I am actually a Business grad with some accounting and administrative practice under my belt that I not so proudly count as job experience. Then why, you may ask, did I end up as an English instructor? Do I have a license or even the right to teach this honorable language? The answer to that, of course, is well, I don’t have both. No license and no right at all. But I’ve got something else which can justify my current job circumstances. Passion for teaching and love of Language. Why am I saying all this? For the reason that it got me thinking as to why I am fairly good in this language. I didn’t even like studying grammar during my school years. As I mentioned before in a previous post, our grammar textbooks had been full of jargons and complicated explanations I couldn’t bother with. One thing sustained my love for English though, and that was reading. I firmly believe Western literature has made me the kind of person that I am now, in the most positive way.

My country has become the preferred destination for a certain Asian country whose citizens are more than required to learn a language they aren’t that crazy about (Why? I honestly don’t know). They bother to travel all the way here for the purpose of gaining some substantial fluency in English at a price cheaper than the real McCoy in learning it, i.e., heading to the West. Cool. It definitely helps increase employment opportunities for many of my fellowmen here. By the way, in the academy where I work, most of my co-teachers are nursing graduates who can’t find work elsewhere. There had been an oversupply of nurses here because the demand abroad suddenly diminished a few years back. The point is, every Filipino who has obtained a college degree is qualified to teach these other Asian nationals lacking on the English fronts.

For this post, I’m going to state the obvious one more time. Yes indeed, the Filipino people are good in English. The language is embedded in our culture. It’s been our way of life. We can’t claim that we are masters in this field. And I myself still have a whole lot to learn. The brand of relaxed wit most American writers possess in their prose is something that I still aim to acquire. Not to mention I’ve got a long way to go in my Advanced English studies. But boy, do I feel lucky being paid for something that is very much related to my lifelong passion. I am blessed.