Useless Teacher

              I have been reflecting amidst my isolation from the teaching profession, and I have nothing but meager social media posts and quick conversations that can help me assess my profession’s impact. As much as I poured my heart out to the call, much of the people I came across after their meager time with me in the classroom was more of heartache rather than reaping fruits. Thus, for them, their time with me was just a passing phase in their privileged or desperate academic life. Designing minds cannot be done in a classroom because the school is just a fraction of a student’s time. A student imitates and learns more from the environment he or she is exposed to. Whether it be at home, community, or the virtual, to where they spend most of their time influences them a lot. Moreover, schools, which are synonymous to education, are but a requirement to have a job. And only a rare few can see the value of its enlightening potential.

              Home is the first truth for the child. From religion to etiquette, the home nurtures the child’s wellbeing. And since most families are scourged by poverty, to them, getting enlightened is less of a concern because bringing food on the table is the major issue. I cannot blame them because what is thinking when you have an empty stomach? That is why a thought epiphany for the hungry is never the same as how philosophers get into touch with the sublime. All they can realize is trying to find ways to climb up the ladder of inequality. That is why studying for the child is a matter of getting barely the passing grade because it is all what is needed in accelerating towards the minimum job qualification. And if the teacher’s or school’s standards are strictly imposed, you have parents begging for mercy, or you have the nightmarish reasoning of students being a reflection of their teacher. You have the marginalized caught in the desire to simply finish school, have a grade, and become part of the wage earners. Again, since their pragmatics is limited to having food on the table, then you cannot blame them for not going further to think. And that was my challenge in facing these kinds of students. I did beg the questions: "What is philosophy for them? How can I bring them to thinking?"

              Another disparity of the youth are those who are privileged enough to not care. To them, school is nothing more again as a passing phase, not as a key to a job, but as compliance with either societal or familial expectations. These students can see poverty but have a hard time empathizing because of the absence of direct experience. The only hunger they felt is skipping a meal and not the hunger of not having one plus the worry of not having another tomorrow. These are the students whose concept of hard work that brings success cannot see the inequality behind the elitist value, as most of them are brought up with parents who saw their families economic miracle as a fruit of their actual labor minus the privilege. They are too privileged that they cannot see that the opportunity they have was far better compared to a lowly farmer at the countryside. These are hard stones to crack because they are basking of the “success” their home claimed to have.

              One cannot deny the influence of one’s abode in their upbringing; and as long as the perception of schools and education are seen as tickets to economic liberation in an unequal society, thinking, thoughts, and critiques are the least concern. But why take prime on the enlightening aspects? Many great people have already seen the necessity of education for bringing change in society, and change is not limited to an increment in GDP but also on the quality of the civilian life. However, this idea of education in my country is nothing but a romantic slogan. A slogan that any teacher and student can say but cannot see its practical relevance. Thus, let us try building a revolutionary culture at every house, as I have even come to the conclusion that the home must be the primal target. Increasing the overall standard of living paired with a strong thinking culture must be enjoyed by every family.  From the television shows that they need to watch to local community activities, all must engender a culture that every idealist-teacher is yearning for inside his or her classroom. What is the use when classroom lessons are but echoes for memorization because the home is never near the noblest of thoughts for their furtherance? Sometimes, parents themselves are the first authoritarians who failed to imbibe a culture of openness. They just pass down the tyranny they experienced to their children; and thus, you have a sheep for a populace. Plus, we all know that the dominant shepherds are wolves. When a child starts to ask sensible questions, the default parent’s reaction is to see it as a threat to authority rather than both a teaching and learning moment for themselves. They too are absent of truth, and in that lack, they fear their children will lose sight of them as power figures. Worse, parents see their children as a ladder to the economic liberation that they too are yearning. I can say poverty did mar even the depth of the parent to child relationship and substitute it as a necessity for survival. Moreover, being impoverished does not only concern economic poverty but also with thinking and culture. The cancer is well deep within most homes and being born within that community is having a high chance of getting contaminated. And you as a teacher, how can you remove deeply-rooted cancer? How can you remove a tumor that even refuses to be removed?

              At the end of the day, from my direct experience to what I heard, saw, and studied, an idealistic teacher shares the useless fate of Sisyphus engrossed with his or her labor only to see it roll down the hill. Much worse, even schools themselves are infected with the diseases in which the fanning of the flames is amplified by the bigger societal powers such as the government and business sectors. I just got to ask, what is my labor worth? Is this a useless passion? The fight continues. . .