The in-service training our group conducted was both an eye-opening experience for us to the actual plight of our public schools and an affirmation of what we’ve known all along: that our public educational system is in dire need of overhaul.
During the course of our interview (I was the leader of the interview group) with several pupils and language teachers, I realized that while it was apparent that the level of competency among the teachers is low and that of learning among students is compromised; there is a desire, albeit of varying degrees, among members of both groups (at least, the ones we interviewed) to better themselves. Perfectly aware of their limitations, they are willing to join activities that promise learning enhancement.
But, as pointed out by one of the teachers, they can only do so much. They can give it all their best, and it still won’t be enough. For what is a teacher to do when the pupils couldn’t come to school because they are needed at home, either to do some household chores or to make a living?
Nothing, for the teachers’ economic status is, in most cases, only slightly better than that of their pupils. All they could do is hope that the absentee pupils would soon surface — bathed, fully clothed and with full stomach — so that they could provide them the kind of education they deserve. But even these two scenarios — the pupils’ showing up in what I’d call “optimally teachable” condition and the teachers’ giving them good education — are wishful thinking. For, with due respect to the teachers, they themselves need to do a lot of learning; not only in areas of teaching strategies, but, more important, in what they teach (content) the pupils. [During the observation phase of our in-service training, our observation group noted some factual errors made by the teachers, e.g., “what is the third person of him?” (The pronoun him is in the third person point of view; hence, it cannot possibly have a “third person.” But, being in the objective case, it does have a nominative case, which is he. The question should have been: "What is the nominative case of him?")]
Being a product of public schools myself, I was only slightly shocked (at least, not as shocked as my classmates were) at what I heard and saw in the school. But more than that, I can easily relate to the plight of the pupils. Looking at them as we were conducting our in-service training, I couldn’t help but imagine how I looked like when I was an elementary pupil myself, and be saddened that what was true during my time is still true up to this day: our quality of education is embarrassingly dismal. But while our situation then was bad, compared to that of the pupils in good schools in Metro Manila, the situation now is at its most alarming state — a hundred times worse than before.
Thinking what would become of the pupils when they grow up, given the kind of education they are getting, a thought hit me: the pupils who would be lucky enough to get into good schools for their tertiary education (or even simply attend tertiary education in whatever school, for that matter), would have a lot of catching up (of the right learning) and unlearning (of the wrongful teachings) to do in order to survive; that is, if they’d even realize that they had been taught wrong. Having gone through both processes of learning and unlearning myself (hence, I know how difficult it could be), I deeply empathize with them.
But more than everything else, the whole experience awakened in me passion for teaching. Being a non-teacher, I had always questioned my decision to take up MA in Language Education, especially when difficult tasks are being required of us, and more so whenever my schedule would be so hectic that I had to choose between attending my classes and staying late in the office to beat our deadline. (I had always chosen the latter, that I almost got dropped out from my classes last semester). During those times, I was always reduced to contemplating quitting from the program, reasoning to myself that an MA degree would not have any use to me, anyway.
But something always kept me from ditching my studies. At the back of my mind, I was (and still am) hopeful that someday, there would be a venue for me to share all the things I’m learning from all these studying that I do.
So, I guess the whole exercise was not for naught. After all, it allowed our group to cultivate deep friendship among ourselves, and gave us the good feeling that we were able to share knowledge and gain valuable lessons from it. If these don’t make for good reasons for the activity to be deemed worthwhile, then I don’t know what would. [seb/22feb2006]
[P.S. I love graduate school (GS). For some reason, I find GS easier than tertiary education. GS teachers likewise tend to give you the grades you deserve. There are teachers in tertiary education who give ridiculous grades. (I remember a particularly arrogant one who, upon learning that our class was big (40 students) during the first day of class, announced: “Half of you will fail.” And she did fail a lot of my classmates. She gave me a grade of 3. The reason? I argued with her about her (and her department’s) penchant for coining words to explain Philippine history and expecting everyone to know of these terms, hence, refusing to explain them. When she learned that I was a linguistics student, she made provocative statements about my department’s penchant for re-spelling English words into Filipino (e.g., association into asosyeysyon; subject into sabjek, and so on). Though I personally wasn’t very much into re-spelling English words into Filipino, I used a lot of re-spelled words in the written requirements I submitted in her class, just to annoy her. (Hey, what did you expect? Bully eh! Hehehehe.) I guess the only thing that stopped her from failing me was that I got high marks in her exams; and maybe (just maybe) my oral as well as written reports were good, albeit the re-spelled words.
Anyway, I haven’t seen that sort of thing happen in GS. (Although I heard that our GS teachers are also “terrors” in their tertiary classes.)
But what I like most about GS is the near absence of competition in class. The students help each other out. They give pieces of advice when you ask them to. They cheer you up when you think you did poorly in class; and pat you in the back when you turned in an exemplary performance. And above all, they urge you to keep going when you think you are ready to quit.]
