Last time I checked, I last wrote on this journal on April 11, 2011 and it felt like it has been forever. There is no new learning I'd like to share today, just the feeling that I've become so lonely and not myself without writing. I can't say I was too busy or lost the interest to do so. Maybe, it's both or maybe not.
This blog post will probably pointless, but I just missed letting the thoughts flow from my brain to my fingertips, as the page gets filled with words. I missed.... writing.
Tonight, I phased-out during the bus ride and as consciousness sprung back at me, I was surprised that I was not in a familiar place anymore. I tried to call my friend to ask for help but he didn't answer. I guess my father was right when he said, it's only you that could help yourself. When I got down the bus, a pang of fear struck me. In the past 5 years, I thought I could live alone but the truth is, I couldn't. I was scared to take another bus again that would go the opposite direction and take me back. I was also afraid to ride a taxi, considering exposes about taxi drivers kidnapping, hold-up and schemes. At last, I bet for my life and just prayed the taxi driver would be kind. In the 4 months, that I went home in Fairview, I never felt so comfortable seeing our old torn door.
Last night was a shock. As a friend bid goodbye to me and explained reasons for leaving, I couldn't say a thing. It was as if my words were stolen by her angst and anxiety. As I said goodbye seeing her rode the jeepney, I smiled. I wondered if I could ever give that same smile again to her again. We rode another jeepney and there, the tears fell. Fortunately, the rain was puring hard so no one could ever notice. I cried for the guilt of things that I could have done for her, when she felt so tired, stressed and confused. Her decision seem undebatable and I just hope for a miracle to happen. I realized, I was still an immature 21-year old trying to tell the whole world I could do things, but the truth is, I still cannot.
Stories of my friend who is now a teacher in Ateneo High School is interesting. He told me about first-day jitters, about students telling him directly at his face that he's "not interested" with him, about colleagues's personality that unfolds to him gradually each day, about future activities of him with his students in a public school for community service in the form of free tutorial classes and... more. In the end, I envy him because his work seemed interesting. I'm glad he found something that would give him happiness and would give him opportunity to help his family, at the same time. He would be able to hit two bird with one stone in the next couple of years.
In my elementary years, I loathed the teaching profession. "I don't want to be a teacher, I don't have interest in what they do, They seem to tired everyday", were my words as a child. Unknowingly, the work of a social worker, my present work, requires more. Gradually, realizations unfold. In the middle of bus rides, I caught myself imagining myself inside a class room giving instructions in a workshop. I even felt the thrill as if I was in the reality of doing the workshop. Sometimes, I would catch myself saying "If I was the teacher, I would have prepared more." More so, when I teach our scholars in Alabat Island, I feel happy just being able to share my knowledge to them and seeing them respond "ah! that's why! (especially in Science, my favorite subject in elementary)". Little by little, I assessed what's happening with my unconscious for it is as if I have longed to be a teacher all my life. And this envy - this envy over my friend who shared stories about his first day as a teacher, it brings me to the conclusion, I was made for teaching.
But when I start to plan in detail, I lose self-confidence. Now, I am a social worker in an NGO. This year, I was asked to do assistance in both Administrative tasks as well as Education, Training and Advocacy. Today was a sad day really. I spent the whole day planning how to organize papers, files and folders - inputting it into a computer. I finished it, but it was dragging. While doing it, I thought "I didn't study social work to clean up clutters of papers!" but when I finished, I was consoled with the thought that "If this would be implemented, then our work would be much more efficient and effective not only for staff but for the people we serve." So, actually what I did today is still a task of Social Work. It is just not what I love to do. :(
When I plan modules and workshops, I always ask myself "which strategy is best for people to get what I wanted them to learn from me?". I always worry about "what they would remember after I had given this lecture or workshop". Five minutes before implementation, I always feel anxious of my plan and I secretly pray that there would be typhoon, no electricity or participants would be absent just so it would be cancelled. However, during implementation, I seem to lose myself. I do things according to plan and it seems like the other part of my brain which is hidden works for me. Exhaustion, then comes after that is, fulfillment.
I would love to spend my everyday thinking about workshops, reading or making workshop materials with my own bare hands. That'll probably what I would like to do 3 to 5 years from now when unfortunately I got uninterested with the routine that I have been doing in the last 2 years. For I am a person, who doesn't like routine, but spontaneity.
However, it's quite out-of-line if I'd teach elementary or high school. I'd like to also share my experiences with matured people. I would like to hear fresh ideas from young people (like me). I would like to hear debates and see things get more clarified and clear as debate progresses. And so, I dream to be a university professor.
of Social Work? of Community Development? of Sociology? of International Relations? I don't know yet.
I'm now really very excited to come back to the university and get back to studying. I haven't chosen yet but I thought would get my dream more specified in the future, when I am already in the middle of my studies. That's what happened in my undergraduate studies, by the way. I've come to love social work while I was studying it. I'll get to know if the water's really cold, as I rush into it.
That is all for now. I'm glad I've let out these thoughts tonight, before tucking myself in my blanket.
P.S.
I hope to get my own camera soon, as I would start Project 365 from my 22nd birthday,
to discover, enhance and play with my skills in photography.
No comments:
Post a Comment