Echoes

              There was once a lonely voice who rocked the rooms and halls which brought about comments of praise and ill repute by either those who understood or those who have no taste for academic prestige. The rooms were filled with questions that rang and reverberated inside the heads of the students which in turn amplified through gossips out from fear of not having to answer any of those questions. There are those who felt that the thrill was worth it since it tested their capabilities to think and collaborate while others saw it as an obstacle that threatens their pursuit of a trivial diploma.  These students have felt the sting of the experience that I want them to encounter in order to give to them hope that service courses or as they say ‘minor subjects’ are enjoyable and also challenging. With all 5 years devoted to the creation of the project, a pedagogy of my making, I did establish my repute. My worth was not some paper work handed down and upon reading the core tenets of existentialism, it has to be that humans are defined by their actions. My walk did the talk as my talk is the walk. Honestly, I sought recognition from the higher ups but I can only muster a scant yes from them and then I continually reinforced myself that I should not seek their approval. The most significant praise and feedback are from the clients themselves who were my students. As I was the source of the voice inside the halls back then, now I am just an echo of those who chose to remember and relish their experience with me. It was a long 5-year career perfecting the trade in any subject given to me. The quest of perfecting the trade is through constant self-criticism, collection of feedbacks, content building, novelty and the customization of methods fit for the students. There is no single manual for all, it has to be a combination of strategies for different situations or having found the glove that can fit all.

              All I can say is that I am now an echo that I once prophesied. All those questions which drilled right to their brains, all those tasks which made them desperately work together and all those lectures that either hurt or inspire them are now echoes until I and the tutelage will be no more. It just lights me up to hear those students in a random unexpected jeepney ride who tell the tale of a sir Archuleta. I have lost the job, but not their hearts. The teaching went beyond the frontier.  Hopefully, I am a memory that continually affects and made a difference. Thank you!