The Irony

I’m a Physical Therapist, I graduated from a Physical Therapy program, and I had worked as a Physical Therapist but circumstance and the need to find a paying job landed me as an assistant SpEd teacher. (I guess God also placed me in such position to teach me certain things).

When I was still in school, I told myself I don’t want to be a teacher. I don’t have the diligence and penmanship to be a teacher. I don’t have the creativity needed to be a teacher. I like to cram and I don’t like making projects. I said to myself I want a job that’ll allow me to leave the work at the workplace and just chill at home. Plus, I don’t like wearing uniforms, I mean you know, skirt and blouse and jacket, aarrgghh! And the constant primping and stuff (basing on the “young” teachers in my primary and secondary school days). I mean, even my own teachers who were kinda “old” had to wear make-up and stuff. Teachers had to stay neat and clean and all, which is something I’m not really good at. I mean I’m not mangy and scraggly and all, but if I had to wear white it’ll surely have some dirt at the end of the day. I also felt that I couldn’t behave the way teachers do, all prim and proper, with their bags and umbrella and folders and stuff (yuck!). I like to be able to sit anywhere I want (like the floor!) and I don’t want to be hindered by an itty-bitty bag and a humongous one full of books and folders and student’s paper and all that (bleeh).

When I interned (back when I was in college) in our pediatric clinic, I told myself, I don’t want to work with kids. They cry a lot, they whine, they cry a lot, they spit, they whine, they cry a lot, they drool, they cry a lot. Imagine having a one-hour therapy session with a kid that’s crying all the time (my ears, my ears, save my ears!). And then one had to be really hands-on with them since kids can’t understand verbal instructions (especially coz they’re special kids). And since they cry a lot one had to be extra vigilant in knowing the reason why the kid’s crying. Is the kid hurt? Hungry? Sleepy? Or just being plain manipulative? (I’m gonna go crazy!). And since they’re kids you have to contend with the parents. I have to explain their kid’s condition (especially if it’s their first time), what they need to do, what has to be done and some other stuff. It’s like having a patient times two or three (if Dad’s included) or four (with yaya). Aside from the frustration over a crying or manipulative kid, I also had to face parents that are still in denial, noncompliant caregivers and yayas that think if it’s therapy time it’s their “breaktime” (am I getting bald?).

But lo and behold! I became an assistant SpEd teacher. I accepted the position for several reasons. The most important reason being I want to work, like a real work, with compensations worth the job. Or at least a paying job that allows me to no longer ask money from my parents and at least contribute some amount in the family expenses. So there I was a SpEd teacher.

As a teacher it was rather intimidating and overwhelming. I mean it wasn’t like I didn’t know what the children’s cases were but still to be actually working with them on a daily basis for two hours straight was really daunting. Well granted I wasn’t alone, I mean there were two of us to 3 kids in the morning and 5 kids in the afternoon all with the same diagnosis (on my first semester)and it wasn’t the first time for all of them, still. There were days that I just want to cry. There were also days that I was so overwhelmed, what with the daily preparation of activities which by the way were all made by us, teachers (5-6 paper-pencil based activities), every weekend report to the parents written on a communication notebook and a formatted paper, it was like…what did I got myself into. I mean all my friends know I am not the most creative and here I am drawing shapes and letters and objects and what else. I make cut-outs and stuff for the kids. I was even able to hone my “paluma” skills, hahaha! And am not the most patient person and here I am a teacher, to special kids no less. It was like…what did I get myself into? The things that I told myself I don’t want to do are the things that I’m doing. But at the end of the day (more like at the end of the sem) when you see the progress the child has made, it makes you smile and be proud and say yeah, I had a part in his development.

What’s funny was that when I joined a Christian community, Ang Lingkod ng Panginoon, I was more active than usual at their social program which is involved with young boys ages 5-16. I even became an assistant leader for a time. We’d go to their shelter every third Sunday of the month. The place is like a shelter for abandoned and orphaned young boys. So we’d go there and have some activities like playing with them or watching a movie or doing arts and crafts and stuff. And of course the activities must have a Christian value in it or something. I mean this is not “teacher” thing but it still involves teaching and being responsible for a child’s formation!

And then the irony of it all is that, I accepted an offer to teach anatomy and physiology to a bunch of college kids. Ha! So like I have to make hand-outs for them and study my lessons and study the bones (ah!the late nights!). I had to make quizzes and exams. I had to bring chalk and an extra bag for my stuff. And I have to compute their freaking grades! Getting frustrated every exam time coz like almost half of them failed and like on their midterms only three out of eighteen passed (can I kill somebody?). Thank goodness their quizzes helped in pulling their grades up! An they did well on their two moving exams”,).

Well, it was lots of fun. The whole teaching thing and working with kids was like a roller coaster ride of emotions. The drools and tears (by my special kids) and haggling (by the college kids) there were all worth it (I guess) because at the end of it all I was able to help in molding a young and not so young mind. (,”