UP!

 “Prof. Diane Princess B. (my husband’s surname)”

Assuming you’re right, yes, I want to be called in that way someday. Not because I will have a name in the field of philosophy and education, but because I want to be a part of college students’ lives before they enter the bolder and truer face of the life that requires great effort and determination.

It doesn’t matter if I will be teaching Theology, English, Political Science, Sociology, Psychology, or whatsoever. What matters the most is the fact that I will settle something remarkably important in the hearts and minds of my students—something that when time comes that these students will hopingly find and figure out their journeys in life, there they will remember me, my teachings, and my words and appreciate how I made a difference in their lives. By then, I can quite say I am ready to die—to die when I already know to myself that the things I have overwhelmingly done in this world will make me still alive within the etched letters turn in words, within the dreams turn in reality, and within the meaningless life turn into notable one.

 

To satisfactorily attain this profession is undeniably not easy. You have to study hard and willingly accept the risks. You have to put your heart in teaching enclosed with prayers and enthusiasm. You have to welcome the unceasing questions, wonders, and thoughts of every head nodding and disagreeing about the truths and theories of here and beyond. You have to carry them. You have to touch their lives not only because they are your student but because they are individuals whose lives are for society’s sakes and not just inside the wards. You have to inspire them and work out the importance of their existence.  You have to be who you have decided to be.

Elementary teachers teach the basics—and maybe when we become high school students, we might forget those (but do not forget how we all get started with these basic writing, counting and reading). Secondary teachers deepen and strengthen the basics—and maybe when we become college students (if we can afford and continue); 40-50% information and understanding about a certain subject will remain fresh before or on college life. Lastly, tertiary (college) teachers teach the most workable, inspiring, living and indelible lessons in life—and probably, even we already have our own world around, their lessons mostly remain alive. This is one of the reasonable reasons why I am endeared more in college teaching. And, I see myself in that field.

The fact that I also want to be a communications engineer, a columnist of Manila Bulletin or New York Times, a researcher, a broadcast journalist, a forensic scientist, a community server, a church leader, a pianist and so many more aspirations, is something I considered reason why God had created me. We can do a lot of things out of our in-born characteristics and talents. And this proves that it is unacceptable to say that you can do nothing. Vividly, satisfaction does not end up with one achievement only. Hundreds and thousands experiences and attainments will do.

Someday, I will be called like that. I will be a gift for them. And, I will be who I wanted to be.

 

 

 

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It's still in my mind if the project that our MAPEH teacher has given to us is something he really thought of many times. Probably that is not easy and is quite hard to do, uncommonly, when you don’t have the guts to interview a drug-dependent man. Well, can you?

Our fourth grading topic in MAPEH-Health cycles about prohibited drugs. Yes, I heard a lot of things about this since my elementary days—how to prevent it, what are the signs if you’re a chronic user and many more how-what-when-where-why facts and questions about the erroneous use of drugs. Bad, bad, bad indeed!

I have thought of reports or research (those that we students just usually hunt for in Google and then retouch as soft copy and finally get its hard copy without even reading it) that could be our project in this matter. Well, unexpectedly, he gave something new. We have to interview a drug-dependent person and ask him few questions which are then I found challenging.

(These are some of the questions I had prepared for the ‘target’)

1. Who motivated you to use prohibited drugs? How did he/she influence you?

2. Was your first taste of drug good to you? In what way?

3. Have you ever tried to do a crime when you have no money to buy drugs? When and to whom you had done it?

4. What type or kind of drug you use? How much it is being sold to you per gram?

5. Have you ever asked or convinced yourself to go to rehabilitation center to get cured? Why? Why not?

I asked these fretting questions to my brother’s friend—a good-looking, 24-year old guy. I was frightened of course at first thinking he might just snob or mock at me but I’m glad he listened and talked to me that well. Honestly, I felt “sayang!” the moment I was talking to him. By then, I started to understand more why people do such bad thing. I learned a lot and he revealed things that I am quite innocent still—sex, anxiety, money and crime—and advised how not to be involve with it.

We ended up our conversation satisfactorily. And the good thing is, he had stopped using it 5 months ago and promised that he will never use it again for it ruined his life.

What Am I Ten Years From Now

17 + 10 = 27

I do like thinking about the future. Reason why I'm choosy in everything and so as to my decisions that questions like "Would this be good for me..? What if..? Is she/he/this the best..?" are always ahead to my motion. I'm not afraid to make mistakes. It is just that being a futuristic person helps me to be more concern and more careful about everything. And, everything is a piece of future.

I have been asking myself, "What am I 10 years from now?" What would I become in all aspects after ten years? — In profession, as an individual, as a Filipino citizen, as a woman, as a lover, as a leader and follower, as a daughter, and as a writer.

Ten years from now I will be 27. Ripe. Mature. I may have my babies that time. I may have already my own family. I may have bought DSLR, house and lot, laptop and maybe built my own business. I may have already my own library. I may have visited Greece and Italy. I may have talked to my favorite singers and writers. I may have be a part of church, community, school or national organizations. I may have been the one I wanted to be throughout. But all these things will not then lie to the true meaning of satisfaction in life.

There are something more that, I know, God is directing me. But, until now, I have to figure out what are those things. I need to find myself. I need to wander across the roads. I need to be with Him, always.

I want to be a writer. I want to be an English professor. I want to be a Psychologist. I want to be an engineer. I want to serve my community. I want to influence people. I want to make disciples. I want to be the best me when I am still breathing.

One thing I have to stick and deal with—“I WANTs” needed to turn in “I WILL DOs.”

How to Cook Rice

                                                                          www.wikihow.com

Step-by-step procedure :

• Put an ideal measurement of rice grain in a rice pot (could be measure by cups or by kilograms)

• The rice is washed two or three times with tap water

• The rice grain is strained to finally rinse off the dusty starches

• Add water

• The rice and water are measured

• Rice is boiled for 20-25 minutes

• The heat is turned down and the lid is opened slightly.

• Wait until slightly dried

• The lid is closed tightly

• Then... serve

(Note: I seldom cook rice and what procedures I've written here may not be good enough for you to follow. Unfortunately, I do often end up my cooking unsuccessful. These are just based on my experience. And, this is a warning.. :D )

Touch me Not

11pm, I think, is the earliest time when all of my siblings will bed down (except Ed who is an owl). I haven't taken coffee. No wonder why drowse tapped me so early that I decided to drop off onto mama and papa's bed. Sounds unpleasing but they both let me sleep there. I didn't care at all. I just want to sleep until I found something odd.

Before sleeping

I positioned straight half a meter away from them. I had a square pillow and did not manage to have another one to hug with—it may occupy more space—I thought. With my blanket covered me from head to toe, I finally said to myself that I can now sleep and I will no longer bother mama and papa.

Zzzzzzzzz….

While sleeping

It was drawing near 2 in the morning when a cold air hustled inside. Unwanted it was, I’m awakened.  I searched for my phone and lighted up the people who I was with—checking if they were also awakened or not. Somebody snored. I forgot I was on the other bed. Nah, I’m with papa and mama.

I was about to alter on my bed when I noticed that papa slept like a cat. His head bent forward like it was to touch his knee. Weird. Another weird thing, mama slept like a bottle. No curves, no poses, just straight as what she was before she slept. And the most weird thing, they positioned oppositely like mama’s feet was on papa’s head and papa’s feet was on mama’s head. Yeah, I did mock secretly and asked myself,”ganito ba talaga ‘pag matanda na?” Well, I had observed them passed months ago and they really are.

In the morning

I just then realized that mama and papa aren't sweet. They don’t hug. They don’t say I love you, honey or so. For short, and maybe, “they’re old”.

Say "NO!" to what?!

Protest is said to be risky. Well, it's still be upon on how it is being done—violent or non-violent—both still imprint impact to our society irrespective of its objective.

This is not like what I always see on television nor that of I always hear that somebody, and even a number of people, die.  This is not what I, sometimes, try to imagine that I palpably raising and waving protest placards and shouting like “No to RH Bill… No to Divorce Bill…” This is actual and my first time indeed to protest, to peacefully rally for truth. This is just our activity in Values Education but honestly, after settling the venture, I came out to a bundle of questions and realizations. Yes it may be unrealistic because we didn't reach hundred heads and we just had done it on our campus but it was really an indelible experience that until now, it makes me think if I will do the same thing again or just better take pictures of it.

It was approaching 12pm when we aligned to two opposite lines along our corridor. We were all wearing our school uniforms. We had our bond papers (as our placards) in which different slogans are written on it. All of it were something to do with "truth". I felt excited to ramp our placards around the campus and it tickled more my impulse to protest.

We started our journey. Unexpected it was, I perceived shame after witnessing the disappointed faces of teachers and students who seriously discussing their lessons. Yes, we disturbed them. They are all looking at us like they almost want to say "stop!" 

By then I realized, I'd better pray and write than to do such things.

Do What?!

It’s good to have concerned brothers, but not all the time.

Ed, Christian and Christopher, my three brothers, have been so strict to me these days. Ed doesn't want me to come home late from school and so as Christian. They do both dislike hearing about suitors and boyfriends. Christopher wants me to “do these, avoid that, eat these and sleep early”—which I found, sometimes, stinking. What these three boys really like me to do is to study hard and avoid admirers. Err…

Well, Ed already has his job as a merchandiser. He goes there at 9am and back home at 11pm—everyday (day offs every Monday but he rather work for it still than to have rest).  It’s quite hard for us to talk now. I miss talking with him. May God guide him all along.

Christian is still rough. Well, it’s him and I understand it. I just don’t like the way he scolds my two younger sisters.

Christopher “The Proud Kuya” cares so much to me that I feel like I have my personal assistant. There he prepares my herbal medicines at night and compiles my papers and requirements necessary for the application of different scholarships. Okay. I just don't like it sometimes like "Hey... I can do it alone..."

Still, I love these three boys though sometimes they care overdo.