A Shower of Blessings

God forgives me for making comparisons but I will. As I strive through day by day, I cannot help but see others and say to myself, "Why me? or Why am I not like them?" I have a habit of sitting and sipping tea in a cafe while watching the people pass by. There have been moments that I am a bucket of many emotions: anger, jealousy, happiness, regrets, and others. I find it normal but I wanted to look for answers, not just question myself everyday.

When I meet people (which is very rare), I make it a point to learn something good from our little conversations or probably our silence. I try to see the goodness of each while shutting myself when the bad things become visible. I see the candid laughter rather than the loud sound it makes. I see the gracious smiles rather than the shape of the lips. I wanted to see myself when I am with people.

A rich man will always be a possibility for envy as well as a good looking one. Such blessings that were not showered to me when I was trying to catch the rain. I got the cold instead, figuratively speaking. When I see achievements in its greatest honour, I feel envy and wishing that I have such enormous talent to also gather the same recognition. When I visited my friend once, I cried through the travel back to the airport not because I will be missing him but because I have seen his growing friendship and pure joy in his new found relationship.

But of course I am not always the bitter one because I also try to open my eyes not for me to see, but for me to be aware of what I have and in what I can give. I cannot give much and I don't have much as well but in my little ways, I do feel an importance within my being. Maybe I am not born to be great, and I believe I am not born to be a mediocre. I am but ordinary but special in some people's eyes. Maybe it's just human nature to make comparisons as what we don't have. For waking up each day, I should always make it a mantra that the sunshine might not bring showers but the blessings of each breathe count most, living and being.

The Candy Making Machine

We started with a blank canvas and then some questions.
What do we draw? What do we add?

A circle perhaps, how about a square?
A face, some teeth, a hand or a heart?

I'll draw a line. I'll make it straight.
How about a zig zag? A loop or a curve?

Ah so many lines and different shapes
Put them together, a story is made.

Let's put some colours: red, orange, yellow.
I want some blue! I want some black!

Now let's look at the canvas.
It looks like a machine.
A marvelous, wonderful, candy making machine!

In The Eyes of the Children

Every morning is what we call our circle time where we all sit down, do some clapping patterns and sing our greeting and other songs. Most of the time, there are songs for singing and songs for dancing and the latter is the favourite of all.

During the last school year's Art Auction day, the children wanted to sing some songs to their parents so I invited them all to come. Most of the moms, including dads (which is a rarity in school events), came. The presentation was meant for parents to watch but I planned something more of a participatory show rather than just being there. I created a special programme where the children starts with a song or two and then asking their parents to sing and dance with them later. The half an hour gathering was a blast. It was also hilarious to see some children doing silly antics creating a roar of laughter within the classroom.

Come the end of the year Celebration of Learning where the same programme was rendered but this time, on an hour basis. Everyone was there including the presence of a grandma who was visiting from Armenia. The show started with some serious stuff such as playing of rhythm instruments to the beat of the song Toembai, to the hand performance of You Are My Sunshine, and some other songs. Later on, the parents were then asked to dance to the music of Here We Come a Walkin and Ha Ha This A Way. Then, some games where the children and their moms and dads showed camaraderie, sportsmanship and candor. There was one instance that the dads were standing with me on the benches and dancing to the beat of Move It from Madagascar. It didn't last for an hour, it even went beyond dismissal time. It was beyond comparison. It was so much fun!

The cake you see was an impression of how I am in the eyes of the parents and the children. It was specially made as a farewell and thank you cake for a whole year of fun and learning. When I was presented a book made by the children themselves, I cried. And when I shared my feelings of the past school year, the room was filled with tears.

Moments like these should be blogged. It will remain a part of my heart and growth as a person. To the twelve loving families who gave me their trust and love, thank you as well!

Thank you to Aino (Finland), Alex (Armenia), Andrea (Denmark), Caleb (New Zealand), Deena (Thailand), Elena (Belgium/Vietnam), Franco (USA), Isi (Chile), Keanu (USA), Kristine (USA), Lukas (USA), and Teppan (Thailand). I will miss you all!

To Take Care

Brought and hanged against my classroom window was this beautiful hanging plant with purplish flowers. The view from the inside was pleasant and more appealing from the outside. However, a bet ensued among my assistant and I as to how long this plant will last. Two weeks, three or four maximum and we were both right. The plant died after a few weeks. The culprit was the lack of sunshine and care during the weekends.

I practically live in a forest like surrounding as the plants and trees had outgrown their pots and been climbing each other for some time. The rain helped me nurtured their growth and during these past weeks I had been trimming, repotting and transferring them in various places. Just like the hanging plant in school, the care I should be giving to my plants at home should not be limited during my free time, or my summer vacation. Since I opted for a garden, I should be responsible for its clean and healthy environment.

I had taken for granted people in my life. First will be my parents who are far away from me. I never talk to them nor hear anything from them. I see them twice or thrice only in a year. I stopped making connections with former friends whom I've met in school or from the universities I attended. I lost contact and made no effort to chat with them. I lost some of the best friends I considered closest to me. It was my busy life, my intention to be alone and my selfish reason to live without reaching out.

The people around me, from before and now, are like the plants I have around the garden. Some thrived in solitary confinements while others did not managed the silent treatment. I should not give them lukewarm relationships nor put them aside. I should manage my time, exert some effort and try to reach out. I am learning my lessons from what's surrounding me. I am learning it late but a realization is making me aware that I am as a person cannot be, all by myself.

Summer Artworks

The Great Kapok Tree

Camouflage

Jungle

Summer class is over and after four weeks, the children produced three great artworks focusing on the colours and sights of the jungle. The artworks were primarily done in natural paper, recycled paper and acrylic while the techniques used were that of paper tearing, collage and dabbing. Enjoy!

The Rock

People are like rocks, battling heavy rains and strong winds in their lifetime. And in the course of living, pieces of rocks tumble down or are chipped off by the elements of both time and weather. The changes give us an appearance and a personality of our own. Later in life, we stand firmly on the ground with our own ambitions and dreams.

In my case, the rock in me started 24 years ago when I decided to become an educator. Just one solid piece, layers and layers of experiences and knowledge created what's in me. The long time formation found a solid ground to light ways and serve as a beacon to many. With layering comes the chipping off of bad habits and lazy endeavours. Doing away with unnecessary actions compliment what of goodness I bring in my vocation. The voice in me is created by the apparent build-up and shaping done by years of teaching young children.

It was the hugging of three young children that made an impact in my choosing to be an educator. It was then the encourgement of colleagues and parents that made me pursue education further. It was my overseas stint that made me believe in my talent. It was the people I'd met from all over the world that gave me the strength to continue this path. It was the children I'd taught that gave me inspirations every now and then.

So what is there for this year? A better person. The rock that was submerged deep down into the ocean floor was then raised up to be carved by the best carvers in town. The shape and the contour are all chiseled in but it is now being polished to perfection. My only wish is that I will continue to see the seeds of goodness I planted to my children. I love them all!

We Don't Teach These Things

Of course, there will be always the words children utter ....

Franco: "I have a new word for you, "Buggerbutt!"

Aiden: "If I sit on it (referring to a drum stick), it will poke my ass crack!"

Sojo: (speaking loudly) "We should never use the words dumb, stupid and idiot in class, isn't it T. Jonathan?"

Kristine: "MOVE AWAY!
T. Jonathan: "Be polite please."
Kristine: "MOVE AWAY PLEASE!"

Teacher: Good Morning Liya.
(Liya ignores teacher.)
Teacher: Good Morning Liya.
(Liya seems unperturbed.)
Teacher: Liya, when someone says good morning, what do you say?
Liya: NOTHING!

Gone

There was a time when love has been so graciously given. Simple days bearing gifts, ordinary dealings serving special treats, and out of occasions"s sweet exchanges. That was many years ago and as time takes a toil to test the chains of endearment, so does the people involve changes.

It must be the long years of knowing each other so much that hindered the growth of a promising relationship. It must be the trials faced through the times that gapped communication. It must be the constant asking for support that finally snapped the thread of connection and trust.

For life isn't all giving. While giving is divine, there should be limits set before everything is out of control. But this does not materialized because fear is on the way. The fear of being physically hurt and the fear of being scarred through ill refute, the spread of false news. So even if the rope is almost at the end, the giving never stops.

So love is now gone as it is now transformed in fear. The once happy get togethers become massive mishaps and then silent treatments. Voices are raised, eyes darting with fiery while unpleasant words are exchanged. It is no longer healthy. It is going towards hostility.

A relationship that borders on miscommunication or no communication at all brings not just anger and resentment but also failure and future quarrels. A relationship that generates no good energy simply must be shut off. And to say this, is easier said than done. The promises made are no longer the basis to continue loving. The loving is gone, long gone. Though fear permeates, the only fire within is the will to survive and the hope to be free from this bondage.

(Just an emo post)

A Year End Thank You Note

The school year ended and summing it up in a few words isn't enough to express the challenges and joys of teaching. However after ten months of schooling and everyone need to say their goodbyes, I then realized that another batch of students are leaving armed with everything I taught them: resilience, responsibility and readiness.

Here's one thank you note most worthy to blog.

Teacher Jonathan,

My husband and I are so happy that Keanu had the experience of having you as a teacher. It is difficult to put into words the respect we have for you and your teaching skills. Not only did you challenge, motivate and inspire Keanu by opening his mind to many ideas, you also showed great compassion in addressing his sensitivity and emotional needs. You make it easy for kids to love learning and that is to be commended. Keanu loved you and your class from the start and never once became bored. All the parents and children adore you and that speak volumes. We shall miss your kindness, your attentiveness, and your passion for making our children better people.

Thank you... A

P.S. You once told me it was an accident that you became a teacher, but I think it was divine intervention for you were surely meant to teach!