Three Narratives and a Farewell

I published this piece on my class blog as my “love letter” to them. I have held dear all of my students, and this is the only thing I can think of in order to provide a proper farewell before I left for HKU. Originally published 26 August 2017.


I.
I discovered my penchant for teaching when I was in grade school. During the summer of 1999, a civic action program was launched by Ateneo Grade School that catered to children in Marikina City. To make sense of my time, I volunteered to teach mathematics to a group of underprivileged students. Never did I imagine that a single experience will have a positive dent in my life.

In high school, I started to join an organization geared towards teaching. The Ateneo Catechetical Instruction League (ACIL), the oldest student organization in Ateneo, became my training ground for teaching. Though the content was catechism, I experienced first-hand classroom management even without learning the theories behind it. My stay in ACIL in high school (and later, in college) provided me with the foundation to handle children (of all ages, sizes, and maturity levels).

Another great influence on my teaching was the Tulong Dunong Program. Introduced as a subject in 4th year high school together with Christian Living Education and Economics, the TD Program allows for seniors to serve as kuyas to Grade 5 and Grade 6 students of public schools in Marikina. I was assigned to teach Higher Horizon (Hi-Ho) Math for Grade 5. Even if I personally struggled with the subject, I managed to deliver the lesson at hand.

One crucial learning I got from the TD Program: you cannot teach what you do not know. I had to relearn and practice concepts such as fractions, ratios, numerical problems, and divisibility rules, topics that I abhorred when I was in elementary. I had to review my old grade school textbooks, and at times, solicit help from math teachers.

But academic content was not everything. The mastery of a subject does not signify anything if without application in real life, perhaps explaining why I find math difficult to deal with. I had to find ways to make mathematical concepts more appropriate to the student level. By using everyday experiences, students were able to see how mathematics can be used even outside of the classroom.

II.
But the thing is, I never liked mathematics. Or science. In fact, if there is a word stronger than “hate”, that would be how I feel about math. As I applied for college, I deliberately chose courses that had little to no math and science content. Before submitting my college application form, I indicated AB History and AB Social Sciences as my first and second choices, respectively.

But my parents disapproved. Coming from an impoverished family, I became obliged to take up a more “practical course”, like management (kasi may pera daw dito). But experiencing so much inequality as a scholar made me want to learn something about the workings of the society (para sa bayan!). As a compromise, I changed my course choices with AB Management Economics (buti na lang mayroong course na ganun) as my first choice. I told myself that in order to survive, I need not love my course. I just had to pass my subjects in order to graduate on time and to maintain my full scholarship. I mindlessly attended my management subjects (i.e., accounting, finance, operations management) but diligently took notes for economics and other core courses. I did not enjoy numerical and statistical analysis, but I was fascinated with qualitative analysis as everything else was studied in ceteris paribus (i.e., all else equal).

Of course, living a life without love has a large downside: without love, there is no drive for excellence. Without love, there is no commitment to be better. And while I did not fail my subjects, I did not excel either. I was not committed to learn more about finance or marketing, even though I was good at it.

Furthermore, life cannot be studied in ceteris paribus. Problems and societal issues do not exist in a vacuum, nor can we assume certain variables as constant. I had a moment of intellectual crisis: I thought that economics was the answer to becoming engaged with the society, but in reality, it rarely does guarantee anything. Like what all stockbrokers disclaim, past performance does not guarantee future performance. This disenchantment resulted to a slide in my academic performance: I no longer had the drive to study, which made me, a high school honor student, become an ordinary, mediocre kid. For the first time, my grades were slipping below 3.00.

But thank God for mentors. In my senior year, I encountered two professors who, up to this day, have made a difference in my life choices: Dr Josefina Hofilena, my professor for Hi166 (Philippine History); and Ms Gilda del Rosario, my professor for LS 126 and 127 (Strategy Formulation and Implementation).

My Hi166 class was held every TTH at 7:30 am, on the 3rd floor of Bellarmine. It was definitely not an ideal way to start the day, esp if you are not a morning person. But I always looked forward to the class. Dr Hofilena’s dynamic discussions made me question everything that I have learned in grade school and high school history. Her lessons are beyond storytelling: she fuses national and local historical narratives with real issues that have been taken for granted for a long time. I saw in her a love for the country that does not fade, even when people have become unruly to achieve power, wealth, and social status in the past.

I recall that after the class discussion on Martial Law, I approached Dr Hofilena. I inquired about the requirements needed to be a good history teacher. She gave me a long prep talk that could be summed this way: mastery, practice, devotion. Competence in the subject matter was necessary: a higher degree is required, and studying the discipline is highly desired. However, she reminded me that being intellectually good in history is not enough. One must be willing to devote time to practice communicating the subject matter (i.e., teaching, writing, and application). One also requires the heart and spirit to be broken and challenged. She reminded me that if I do not believe in the Philippines and the Filipino people, then there is no point in teaching the course.

Ma’am Gilda was one of those rare professors in JGSOM who had a heart for the student’s welfare. Every Saturdays, she shared her extensive knowledge and expertise in the strategy building, but what I appreciated about her was how she extended the care outside the confines of the classroom.

In one of our individual consultations, she noticed how unhappy I was in class (indifferent, perhaps). I confided that I was not really cut out to be in business, and even if I had the knowledge, my heart was not really into it. What she said surprised me: “Go whatever your heart tells you to do. Love precedes excellence. Love is required to be excellent.”

I was left dumbfounded that day. She suggested scholarships and foundations for further study. She shared her experience in living abroad as a student. She narrated her struggles and triumphs. I was in awe. At the end of the session, I hugged her.

III.

With every passing of a class and semester, I bid all of my classes with this blessing: be brave, be strong, be true. Confession time: this is not a unique phrase invented by me. It comes from a song “To Fill the World with Love”, which was first played in the movie, Goodbye, Mr. Chips (1969). The lyrics are as follows:

In the morning of my life as I look into the sunrise,
At a moment in my life when the sky is new,
And the blessing I shall ask is that God will grant me,
To be brave, and strong, and true
And to fill the world with love my whole life through.

And to fill the world with love
And to fill the world with love
And to fill the world with love my whole night through.

In the noontime of my life I shall look to the sunshine,
At a moment in my life when the sky is blue,
And the blessing I shall ask shall remain unchanging,
To be brave, and strong, and true
And to fill the world with love my whole life through.

And to fill the world with love
And to fill the world with love
And to fill the world with love my whole life through.

This song has a special significance for me. While some may consider it as cheezy, it became my mantra that saved me countless times.

Like any graduating senior at the time, I also had long term plans. I planned that I would be working for the World Bank or ADB. By the age of 25 I needed to finish my MA, and by 29, my PhD. By 30, I would settle down and have a family. I want to work in a university in Europe or in the United States. And when I get tenure, I will publish books and become an expert in my field. I need to be an accomplished somebody by the time I reach 35 years old.

But things were not going my way. The world economy was spiraling because of the Lehmann Brothers and Merrill-Lynch financial scandals. Job opportunities were available but ridiculously competitive. On top of that, employers were prioritizing graduates of honors courses because “they were better”. Real world just got too real.

Fresh out of college, my first job was not banking nor a teaching job. I landed in the university as part of its admissions team. It was not “the plan”, but it was decent enough to pay for my bills and study for my MA degree for free. I said to myself that I will only stay for a maximum of two years, then I would seek a better, more “glamorous” work.

But every time I wanted to leave, something happens. Family problems forced me to give up all of my savings, and later, become the new head of the family. Problems at work were sometimes unbearable and monotonous that I often went to the office with a temperamental, unmotivated, and sloppy attitude. Personal relationships were becoming strained that led to one violent verbal break-up. My MA classes were becoming tiresome with all the readings and research papers God knows whether my professors actually read them or not. And don’t get me started on thesis writing.

None of my long term plans came true, or if it did, I was so behind schedule. I wanted to escape. I was f*cking fed up. Who would have thought adulting was this difficult? I wanted to leave everything behind: my family, work, responsibilities, bills, school, friends, everyone. Even God. I need a reset button in my life. Escape was the only option.

I found myself one day on board a plane. I was not sure how it happened, or how I got there, or how I booked my destination. Think Julia Roberts in Eat, Pray, Love. But I remember finding myself in a hotel room in Bali, crying for a good hour. I was crying out everything and wished that every problem can be simply washed off. I no longer had plans of going back home. I want to start life anew.

While I was in self-exile, I did a movie marathon of happy movies. I thought Goodbye, Mr. Chips was a happy film (because, you know, the word chips is in the title, so I thought it was about food). it turns out that it was a story of a teacher, Mr. Chips, during the Second World War in England: uptight, stern, falls in love, gets heartbroken. Wow, the story of my life, I said. I reflected so much about the movie while strolling the beach by the sunset (Yes guys, I am a romantic at heart. Walang basagan ng trip!).

When people tell me “Kaya mo iyan!” in the face of so much adversity, I think that they do not know the full extent of the pressures what I am going through. We writhe because we are in pain; we cry because what we feel is unbearable; we despair because everything is perceived to be hopeless. If things were that easy as kaya ko, then I would not have entertained of thoughts of escaping reality.

For me, to be brave requires the moral sheer will to live this life that we are born with. Bravery requires determination to be committed to the choices that we make, shaped by the circumstances that beset us. We are in our current situations not because fate has played on us, but because of the choices we have undertaken. Even when everything seems to be turning downhill and the only plausible choice is to escape, bravery gives us the determination to stand by our choices and actions.

While I was traversing through the temples and fields of Bali, I observed how the locals went on with their lives with smiles on their faces. I was aware that a few years prior to my visit, a bomb exploded and killed numerous tourists in its famous beaches. Tourist arrivals plummeted, and as a result, a lot of the Balinese lost employment and revenue. Despite that, they still have that affectionate warmth beaming from their faces.

I asked some of them about their stories, and why they still manage to smile after everything that has happened. They began to explain to me the concept of samsara, the wheel of life. While the concept heavily refers to the reincarnation cycle in Hindu belief, interestingly, some interpreted it as similar to how life “progresses” like a wheel: we will experience our highest of points and lowest of moments. Life must go on. We are born and die all the time. Every time we undergo the process of creating and dying, pain becomes more and more bearable. Hence, we become stronger at every instance that life affords us to experience birth and death.

To be strong does not refer to physical strength but toughness to withstand both external and internal crises. It is harnessed through years of experience by being immersed in the realities of life. In the face of adversity and trial, we become more resilient and prepared on how to take action.

But I also do realize that as determined as I am, my body is limited. When confronted with all of the pressures of adulthood, when no grade or mark can evaluate my performance, I grow tired, weary, stressed, fatigued, and drained. I need to restore my health. I need to rest. Nakakapagod din ang magpaka-magis. Nakakapagod din magpakatao kung minsan.

Thus, to be strong does not only refer to our ability to absorb the blows. It also refers to our capacity to restore our constitutions when it is demanding for rest. Nakakapagod din kasi ang maging matapang para sa atin, sa ating mga pamilya, sa mga kaibigan at minamahal sa buhay. When we give our all for our loved ones, we sometimes forget that we have to take care of ourselves. Real strength comes when we are able to admit that we cannot do everything.

I guess that leads me to my third point: I am different. I will never be like my coursemates who are more adept in numbers and analyzing financial statements. I will never be like my friends who are now successful entrepreneurs, lawyers, doctors, and professionals. A lot has to do with accepting and loving myself for who I am: I am a teacher and a historian, a son, brother, and a friend.

And I need to stop comparing myself with others. Other people will have their own crosses to bear, their own trials and pressures. I think the long term goals I have set for myself were also based on how others expect me to become, based on their own lives. The pressure of other people becomes embedded in me as a result, and I expect myself to live a life based on the standards and expectations of others.

To be true to oneself is absurdly difficult especially if we are not firm in our resolve to accept ourselves, including what others may find as our “imperfections”. It is a part of us. It belongs to us. Own it. Claim our selves as unique and beautiful.

And when we do, we are able to act and think independently from the dictates of others. Guided by reason and conscience, to be true to ourselves requires diligence to discover more about our selves as human beings. The irony here is that we will never completely know ourselves but at least we can still know ourselves and what we can do.

I chose to study history because I am not interested in military exploits, historical personages, “big leaders and famous people”, or the trivialities a lot of aficionados consider as “history”. Rather, I chose it because it exhibits how individuals in time have acted and reacted given their limitation, temporality, and circumstance. One acts not to please others, or to be popular. A lot of times, the truest of people are those who make the unpopular choices for the sake of greater principles such as honor, family, dignity, and love.

Be brave, be strong, and be true.

I have interpreted this not as the end goal of being, but values to guide our choices. Many times, we will be petrified to do something at the point of crisis, and conveniently, you and I have chosen to take a backseat and let others do the work. Why are we afraid? Are we immobilized by fear? By indecision? By uncertainty?

And when it happens, we pray that we become brave and strong and true the second time around. It takes a lot of bravery to move from fear and from our own insecurities. It requires us to be strongly committed to our own principles. It moves us to take the unpopular route, to be true to ourselves, even if it meant going against the current’s deafening voices. For what end? For what purpose? The song ends this way:

In the evening of my life I shall look to the sunset,
At a moment in my life when the night is due.
And the question I shall ask only God can answer.
Was I brave and strong and true?
Did I fill the world with love my whole life through?

Did I fill the world with love?
Did I fill the world with love?
Did I fill the world with love my whole life through?

 

****

Fast forward to 2017.

During reunions with former classmates, orgmates, and batchmates, I would listen to their stories of life in the corporate world: promotion, world travel, fat paychecks, and benefits with all of its attendant perks. Only a handful have ventured into the academe, including me. Don’t get me wrong, but I have also often wondered what my life would have been if I had gone on to corporate banking (the fate of many graduates of my course). Perhaps, I would have also acquired my own house and car, a modest savings account, and a nifty stock portfolio. I would have traveled overseas frequently or be assigned to some foreign destination with snow. Perhaps.

But most likely, I would not have met wonderful, amazing, and talented students. I would not have the opportunity to listen to real stories from the marginalized, obscure and ordinary individuals. I would not have experienced sending student delegations to other countries for historical conferences and hear praises about how scholarly undergraduates can be. Definitely, I would not have the chance to don my kempeitai outfit to teach the visual history of the Japanese Occupation. Most importantly, I would miss out on seeing my kids grow from their own obscurity, naivete, or indifference into active agents of history and hope.

Ten years ago, as a young graduate, I envisioned myself becoming an economist and rise as a top investment banker. Fortunately, I grew to become one. Instead of handling equity investments, I have invested so much hope in students with returns far greater than any monetary value, compounded by bravery, strength, and truth.

As I leave these harrowed halls on the hills of Loyola, I bring with me all of my memories of you, including your letters, grad pics, and notes. I start another chapter of my life as a full-time student overseas, in a campus on top of a mountain with a magnificent view overlooking the city and the bay. Will I return? I do not know. Perhaps. Although I am scared of these changes, one thing comforts me: you have served as an inspiration for me to be brave, strong, and true as well. I am eternally grateful for having our lives intersected. And to those whom I have offended or wronged in the past, intentional or unintentional, I sincerely apologize. I hope our paths will meet again. Till then, proceed to fill the world with love your whole life through.

All the best and love,

Nicolo

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