A JOB THAT ALMOST KILLED ME

I love my job because it almost killed me. Yes, my job pushed me to the brink of suicide and I love every moment of it! Don't judge me yet, please read on to know why.

“Why are you dropping my class?” I asked Claire, one of my brightest students.

“Uhm…I’m pregnant and my parents told me that, with a baby, they can't afford to send me to school anymore,"

“Oh…” was all I could say. But in truth, I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, "AGAIN!?" Claire was just one of many students dropping out of school because of unplanned pregnancies. "You’re freakin’ 17! What were you thinking! GRRRR!" I wanted to blame Claire, but it was not my place to do that, loudly, but I did behind her back 'cause I was mean that way.

This happened in the late ’90s and I’m just glad there was no Twitter yet where I could rant about my frustrations of seeing my students leave school in hoards because I’m living in a country where sex education is limited to chastity — or “just don’t do it!” culture.

But, if there was Twitter back then where I could write all my thoughts, I’d be canceled by woke people today for violation of political correctness and committing social injustice because my generation had no filters. We could say what we mean and we meant what we say. Kids were also tougher back then. They could distinguish between bullying and messing up with each other as friends. In some ways, I'm glad I belong in the 'OK Boomers' generation.

Just the same, then and now kids get easily swayed by their sexual desires. Dealing with problems like this, among all others, was the reason why I hate being a teacher! However, with the market crash in the late ’90s, jobs for I.T graduates were scarce, and getting in as a computer instructor in one of the community colleges near my place was a no-brainer. So, I dragged my 21-year-old a*s in an interview and simply said, “Sure, I can teach Cobol,”

The pay was lousy, the students were brats, but the job was easy -- just discuss modules, give programming assignments, and compute grades - and viola! Earn money, no drama!

Then years later, life and sh*t happened to me and in the process, I grew up and became a mom. Looking back at the pictures of who I was before as a teacher, who didn’t care about my students and hated my job, I'd be glad to also cancel myself and shun me from the face of the earth, because I wasn't a good person back then. Like most people in their '20s, I was young, stupid, and self-absorbed. Me! ME! MEEE! People and the world must revolve around me! was my mantra in life.

But you know what? It’s nice that my life is not just pixels of screenshots and static photo images that focus on my ugliness. My life is a movie - a moving picture of character arcs and redemption stories — where I'm given room to commit mistakes, be human, and bounce back from it, remorseful and learned. Redemption and second chances became my favorite words and with it, I began to look deeply into my job and redefined it into a purposeful walk -- a meaningful journey.

In more than two decades in the academe, I had to be broken -- heart and soul -- into a thousand pieces for me to patch up myself and proudly say today that ‘I’M A TEACHER!'

As soon as I embraced my classroom and bled with my students as I learned to love them and hate them in the same intensity that I wanted them to succeed, I got promoted as a school administrator. What?! No! I already love the smell of my sh*tty classroom and my students are teaching me the latest trends on social media, ugh! I wanted to protest, but then my classroom became bigger and now I'm not just dealing with the students but their parents, teachers, and school problems as well. (DEEP SIGH!)

Drugs, unwanted pregnancies, and mental illnesses became the teenage angst I faced every single day. Not to mention, school's financial concerns, parents who don't know how to be a parent, and Gen. Z teachers who demanded bidet in the bathroom or they'll resign, they are an added spice in my life.

My job now is physically easy since I no longer have to prepare for my lesson plans, conduct classes, check exams, and compute grades, but my heart and soul are screaming ‘TIME OUT’ sometimes. Emotional fatigue sets in when I'm dealing with lots of people-problems twenty-four-seven.

Nonetheless, I still wake up every morning, despite the lockdown and this pandemic, wanting to continue in the trajectory that my divine calling is leading me.

Why? Because in 2014 I knew that it was worth it! I know that my job is worth dying for.

Sick and tired of my students dropping out of college because they’re pregnant, I launched a program called BELP or Blended E-learning Program where I encouraged them to continue their studies through virtual distance learning despite their situation.

As my students gave birth to healthy babies, We (my team and I) conceived and gave painful birth to an ugly baby - a new radical way of delivering education at home -- that we nurtured into a beauty. There was resistance from teachers who didn't want to abandon the old ways of classroom set-up, also from parents and students who felt like school was the only place lessons could be taught, and the academic team that didn't like restructuring the curriculums to fit in the new way of teaching and delivery system.

Despite these hurdles, like a mom in labor, I pushed and pushed until the policies were written, people were trained, technology was set up, and we're ready to implement. Then from catering to pregnant students, we expanded to working undergraduates. They were kids who must work for their families but also wanted to finish college by any means possible. Then, we started serving domestic helpers who were dreaming of a better future for themselves and physically challenged kids who could not easily leave their homes every day.

For a couple of years we had hits and misses, but successful stories of cleaning ladies who became marketing agents, a maintenance man overseas who was promoted as a junior technician, and a 20-year-old mom who got up the stage to claim her diploma with a 3-year-old boy in her arms, fueled our passion to continue the program despite the challenges that came our way.

Then in 2017, we were shut down.

You see, much like in the series, Game of Thrones, I work in a community college where there's 'Me Lord and Me Lady' authorities to bend the knee. They didn't like our program and thought of it as 'road to a diploma mill' or 'an insult to quality education.'

"We are a brick-and-mortar school, you hear!? Students must be physically present in the school for them to learn!" one of my lords screamed at me.

The rebellious side of me kicked and punched, but in return, the school was denied a couple of million budget as a penalty for my crime.

It wasn't the money that crushed my spirit, it's the disheartened students, who could no longer continue with the program, that destroyed me for a moment. Every time I explained to them what happened, I felt like my heart was being torn to pieces over and over again. I felt like I gave them hope for a better future, and then I trampled on their dreams one by one. I could feel my anger turn into fury and unable to control our destiny, I contemplated ending what I had started by literally hurting my body.

For months I drove to school wanting to crash my car on the highway. I lost my purpose, the reason why I believe I became a teacher in the first place. I didn’t hate my job, but I hated the system! Since I couldn’t do anything about it, I hated and punished myself.

But you see, I already know that I have suicidal tendencies. I'm what you call a 'flee'r' (I invented this word). Whenever there's a problem, I bolt. My serious attempt of killing myself was in 2004, but for some reason, heaven was not done with me. Given a second chance in life, I took a journey to my past and realized the trauma of having a fugitive mom (This is for another story) who must escape her enemies, dragging us along with her, was the reason why I became a flee'r. It got imprinted in my mind to do the same -- escape -- whenever I have problems. Instead of facing them, my basic instinct is to run away from them.

With this, I went back to school and studied Psychology. I learned that when we release cortisol because we are under a lot of stress, we have five common reactions if it gets too much and we are on the verge of a mental breakdown. We either fight, flight, freeze, attach (obsessed), or submit to our problems. In my case, I always choose flight.

Knowing this about myself, I learned a coping mechanism where I welcome suicidal thoughts as part of my being. I reconciled with myself and accepted that “It’s who I am! I'm a flee’r”. And for as long as I acknowledge that 'I cannot control all the thoughts that enter my mind, but I can control those that take root in the depths of my thoughts,' I know that I’d be fine. Suicidal thoughts may pay me a visit, but they are not allowed to check in overnight.

With this, suicidal thoughts became my tipping point or my trigger to ‘suit-up' in my superhero cape and stand brave to face my problems by finding solutions. After months of cradling my suicidal thoughts, but having a STRONG FAITH that all things have a purpose, I finally hit my mental breakthrough and was able to get out of my mental breakdown.

I found a workaround by outwitting the system...shh… We continued the program under the noses of my lords and my ladies sitting on the thrones with their big bellies (sorry!). After a brief defeat in 2017, we had a blast in 2018 and 2019 and then...

BOOM!

COVID!

PANDEMIC 2020!

After a strict lockdown for a couple of months, the school year closed. Schools (private and public) were given a couple more months to regroup. As the pandemic lockdowns continued to pester the economy and increase people’s anxiety (above and beyond our capacity to endure it), schools clamored over developing policies for online classes, realigning curriculums, training teachers, encouraging students, and pacifying parents.

On the other hand, our school was ready. It felt like we were made for this pandemic. We mobilized the transfer of equipment from school to homes, provided teachers, parents, and students technical and academic support groups, and conducted pilot tests of the school-wide implementation of online classes. All these were already incorporated in our BELProgram which we started six years ago.

While other private schools were closing down, we were accepting students denied enrollment. Though we are not happy with the loss of businesses in our country brought about by the pandemic, we can't help but think, "Did SOMEONE prepare us for this?" If so, then my bouts of suicidal thoughts are worth it.

We not only survived the school year of the pandemic, but we also thrived in it. The money my lord and my ladies withheld from us back then as a penalty for implementing BELP, we earned back triple in a year and even gave them their share of income while doing nothing but sit on their a*ses.

With the pandemic still pestering us, it looks like the schools will still be closed for another year. But instead of pouting, complaining, and blaming whoever, we stayed razor-sharp focused on not just implementing a successful online delivery of education this year but also supporting our students in their mental health struggles.

Locking up young souls inside the corners of their homes with limited physical social interactions is taking a toll on them and we are taking on a new challenge to help them find a mental breakthrough amidst their mental breakdowns. Such service is not part of the standard curriculum dictated by my lords and my ladies, but who cares! They can penalize me again if they want, but I will swim in my suicidal thoughts again and come back stronger than ever.

So, yes, looking back, this job almost killed me, but this job also gave me the reason to live. And if I will go back in time and be given a chance to choose between a lucrative job in the I.T industry that pays millions, I’d still choose to be a teacher who cannot afford a Gucci bag or a condominium.

You see, I love my job because...I'd rather be working in a job that pushes me to the brink of suicide and know the value and beauty of my life, than to work in a job that makes me look like I have a life, but in truth, I’m a living dead -- zombie -- inside.