A Day of a Grade School Teacher

The Prefect’s engulfing alarm sirened the entire Grade School, signaled the start of the formal opening of the morning assembly while I fumbled through the labyrinth of the multitude punch-in cards at the bundy clock. 7:15! Perfect. Just in the nick of time to start the day right in the good, old Xavier University Grade School.

As the children softly chorused the XU Hymn, I inched my way to the covered court. Mrs. Jamaca were already there, along with Mrs. Jano; usually the first ones to grace the venue by coming to school as early as 6:30 in the morning. As to how they do it? I have no idea. We exchanged warm glances and quipped smiles to acknowledge each other’s presence.

I treasure these moments, when a teacher finds solace in the soft quiescence of the morning and collects her thoughts to pursue a day that promises a joyful (but honestly, sometimes, horrible) chaos ahead of her.

As the prefect capped the assembly to end, thunder of footsteps broke the silence. The students now went to their classrooms.

It’s showtime.

I chatted a little with my co-teachers in the grade level and proceeded to tail the file of my students to the classroom. JC, one of my feeling-close students, approached me to bring in the first dish of the day, “Teacher, Jezreel lost her cellphone in the classroom yesterday.” This is it, Lord. Be with me today!

When everyone was finally seated, I locked my classroom door and started a thorough investigation. I barked and bargained and hollered and coyed and cooed and no cellphone came to surface. I wanted to pull each one of them by their feet and shake them upside down in the air to see what comes out from their nasty pockets. But all I had were faces of innocent children; apologetic of the deed they’ve never done. Little devils! I went to the Prefect’s Office and reported the incident.

Back into the room, I took a deep breath and was ready to start with my class. It went well; my lesson development went perfect. The children were able to meet the objectives I planned for the day. Even the girl who lost her phone chuckled and had fun (unaware of what might come upon her at home later that day). They responded with jolly stance.

The excitement brought upon by the lesson surged in the air, inspiring me to do more than what is meant by ordinary and mundane. Things like these mean every good thing in the dictionary for us teachers. It’s what sustains the very reason of our being here; of even waking up to the nightmare of underpayment. I left the room with nothing less than a satisfied grin on my face.