Metamorphosis of a Monster by Prince G. Binondo

 

Metamorphosis of a Monster

            The school is celebrating World Teacher’s Day. The college dean and the principal announced yesterday that there will be no formal class for the said celebration. Early morning, the vendors are at the main gate convincing the students to buy their garlands and red roses to give to their teacher as a token of appreciation.  The student supreme council officers are busy embellishing the stage by putting a red cloth as a backdrop and a “Happy World Teacher’s Day” greetings placed at the center. Colorful balloons are decorated in each side of the juncture reaching to the wooden ceiling.  They also adorned the venue with fresh potted flowers that were taken from the school garden and to complete the festivity, the student leaders arranged two columns of plastic chairs with ten rows each. In the classroom, the students are busy writing letters, covering the gifts and wrapping with plastic cellophane the bouquet of flowers to be given to their favorite teacher later in the program. Some are practicing their testimonies to be read on stage while others are changing their attire for the intermission number they will present.

            Meanwhile, the faculty room has a soothing atmosphere since the teachers have no classroom lectures to worry. I was standing at the corridor outside the teacher’s abode, looking at the excited faces and listening to the deafening laughter of the students. I felt that I don’t want to attend the celebration because I am an austere educator and I didn’t develop intimacy with my students.  I am afraid that nobody will give positive testimony about me because all they can say is that I am an unapproachable and strict professor. 

 

Stage One- Egg

            My life as a college lecturer can be compared to the four stages of the butterfly’s metamorphosis-the egg stage, caterpillar stage, pupa stage and the adult stage. Every stage has its own experiences and self-reflection that contributed to my maturity and the transformation of the beast-self into an improved individual. The first stage of the cycle is the egg phase, according to science, an adult butterfly laid its egg on the leaf, and after a few days the caterpillar will come out. As a fresh graduate, I was an egg, which is, very brittle, undeveloped and lacks real life experiences. Like a butterfly’s egg, I always depend on the leaves for food and protection from harsh elements because some eggs are likely to be eaten by ants and other insects. Like most eggs, I am trapped in my own shell, an immature, and self-centered person with limited view in life.

            My first teaching job was at Christian Colleges of Southeast Asia in Davao City as an English and Literature instructor in the college department. As a 23-year-old greenhorn educator, I was very idealistic, self-centered and wanted to prove something that even though I am not a licensed professional teacher and just started my graduate studies, I could give justice to the position entrusted on me by the college dean. I came to class on time and barely had no absences on my daily time record. I was assigned to teach on the freshmen and sophomore level, which were, mostly born again Christians, church workers and children of pastors and missionaries. I really had no idea that I had personal monsters until I was put to test by circumstances. These beasts were the inner demons and untamed dragons that made me a monster-educator and ruined my professional career. The inner demons were those times that I told sex jokes and offensive words in the class like “putang ina!”, “peste!” and “yawa ka!” while the untamed dragon was awaken when stubborn students annoyed me for being irresponsible on their assignments. I would burst to anger and humiliate these passive learners in front until they would start to cry on their seats. I could not control my temperance once I am mad and I lose control of my vulgar mouth when I am overwhelmed by the situation.

            These personal monsters were put to end when a group of students failed to report their topic because they attended the debut of their classmate the night before and forgot to make a visual presentation. The blazing fire came out from my mouth and the devil’s speech was uttered by my tongue as I was so disappointed for their unprofessionalism. A pastor’s daughter cried a lot and called his father on the phone telling him to come to school because she was so terrified to my behavior. I did not stay longer in the class, I left the classroom without saying goodbye. The next day, the secretary told me that the college dean wanted to talk to me in his office. The dean had an indescribable expression ass he was reading the complaint letter from the students and parents. 

            “Mr. Binondo, I’m afraid that I have to terminate you as soon as possible.”

            “But how about the employee’s contract that will end a month from now?” I asked.

            “I know but these parents threatened me that if I don’t dismiss you as soon as possible they will go to another school next year,” answered the dean. 

            “May I know what was written on their letter?”

            “The parents enumerated the faults you committed such as uttering sex jokes, cursing expressions, and shouting students when you were mad to name a few. These behaviors are not appropriate for a teacher working in a Christian school.” After receiving a soft spoken sermon, I realized that I need to look for another job to sustain my graduate studies. I left the school brokenhearted because I was not given the chance to air my side to the parents but I just accepted the administration’s final verdict.

            When the student supreme council president went to the faculty room to remind the teachers that the program will start soon, my colleagues cleaned their desks, stood up, and went to the covered court rowdily. The student officials acted as ushers and usherettes by guiding the educators to their proper seating arrangement. The college department was seated on the right wing while the junior and high school department were comfortable at the left wing of the audience. To follow proper protocol, the school administrators including the college dean and the principals were seated on the front row while the coordinators and faculty members were placed at the middle portion and lastly the non-teaching personnel were at the last part. The rest of the students’ population were just standing at the venue’s open spaces and at the nearby hallways.  I remained in my position, standing at the second floor outside the faculty room, observing the celebration unfolded before my eyes.

            Everyone was already seated when the master of ceremony reminded the audience on the program’s flow. After having the doxology and singing of the national anthem, the college dean gave an opening remarks, which was, followed by a dance presentation. I am not really interested on the interlude but what I am looking for is the testimony of a student to his or her favorite teacher because through a speech you will know the attitude, character, and leadership trait of an educator as perceived by an observer. Since there were few games and video montages presented, I decided to go to the college library and read the newspaper.

Stage Two- Caterpillar

            As a ghastly caterpillar, I am starting to be exposed to the real world where people judge you based from your appearance and actions. Just like a harmless caterpillar, horrible as it looks, but its role is just to eat the leaves to stay alive but gardeners will always consider it as a pest who ruins their plants. Compared to caterpillar, students just saw me as a fat, short, slowly moving professor who eats their time with boring lessons, saliva-spitting sermons and insulting jokes. A multi-legged caterpillar like me ends in isolation because everyone is afraid that I might prickle them with my spiked hair but the truth is only moth and not caterpillar butterfly that stings to humans for defense.

After my termination at Christian College of Southeast Asia, I was employed at MATS College of Technology in same city as a language, literature and social science instructor. Before the school year started, I read a lot of self-help books and videos on how to improve E.Q. and developing anger management skills because it would be shameful if the same mistake will be repeated again in my new workplace. For the first four months, I was doing fine with my students except for one who seldom attended the class without showing any excuse letter and had unacceptable reasons for his habitual tardiness.  I just held my patience for this abusive young man until such time that my untamed dragon blazed its fire on him.

“Putang ina aka! Get out and don’t come back in my class!” 

The sophomore followed my instruction and never came back for three days. On the fifth day, the dean’s secretary knocked at the door in the middle of my lecture, telling that I should proceed immediately to the dean’s office. When I arrived at the office, the prodigal student together with his public school teacher parents had filed a complaint against me.  The dean was sitting on his chair while the family was seated on the right portion of the college head. I decided to sit on a single chair placed at the left part. The father, his son and I were trying to be unruffled but it was the mother who was so emotional during the confrontation:

“Sir! I just want to ask why you told my son not to attend your class for the rest of the semester?” the mother asked.

“I was wondering because I was doing fine with your class,” the student added.

“Doing fine? You were always late and had a lot of absences,” I said.

“That is not true!” the student insisted.

“Now who’s lying?” I was shocked to his denial on my accusation.

My explanation was futile because the parents will always side, believe and fight for their children while the teacher will end as the loser in the battlefield.  The mother expressed her sentiments emphasizing that his son should not be treated that way because verbal abuse is punishable by the law. The college dean kept his mouth shut on the situation, he just listened to the views and opinions of the bothered parents. During the last day of the semester, I received a letter from the dean telling me that my employment contract will not be renewed for the next six months due to verbal abuse.

            While I was reading the newspaper, a student of mine named Tristan, a parish volunteer and a devout Catholic, entered the library and approached me.

            “Sir, I will be the one who will give a testimony on you,” he said.

            “Oh thank you but why did you choose me?” I asked.

            “Actually, the student supreme council officers appointed me for this task.” I offered him a seat so he sat by my side.

            “So, why are you here? I thought the testimony is a surprise.”

             “I want to practice my testimony on you and tell me your reaction on it.”

            “Oh no! You better surprise me but make it sure it will make me smile.”

            After a short conversation talk, Tristan returned to the covered court and waited for his turn. I immediately went out when the host called the name of the first speaker to give a testimony, I stood at the corridor facing the stage surrounded by a throng of video phones and cameras recording the event that later will be uploaded on the school’s Facebook page.  The host acknowledged the name of the teacher that the student will be dedicating her speech. The student held the microphone tightly on her right hand while holding a bouquet of white roses on the other. She then started reading the written dialogue at the center stage:

      “Dear Ma’am Rayos Happy World Teacher’s Day! Since the inception of the

                   our class I really like and idolize you as our English & Literature professor.

       I like you because you are like a second mother to us who is very approachable,

                  loving and understands our situation. I idolize you too because you shown

                  professionalism in your work like coming to class on time, giving us fair grades,

                  explaining the lessons properly and listening to our problems during our

                  consultation hours. Ma’am Rayos thank you so much for your kindness and  

                  guidance as we continue to pursue our college education. I love you so much and

                 and again Happy Teacher’s Day!”  

            Ma’am Rayos stood up and embraced her student on stage. The testimony received a thunderous applause from the audience. After a photo shoot, Ma’am Rayos returned to her seat and the student to the crowd. The host called another name and requested to be on stage to give the testimony. A senior went to the center stage bringing a wine and gift box. The host gave the microphone to the student and he delivered his testimony without reading any script:

              “It would be very embarrassing if I give a bouquet of red roses to this professor

              since both of us drink Tanduay and Red Horse Beer. Sir Batiao is the coolest and

              down to earth professor I know because he is the type of teacher who hangs with

              you during birthday party and college ball. I’ve learned a lot from his mathematics

              subject like how to woe women and how to clean the house when your mother

              becomes a dragon.  Seriously, Sir Batiao thank you for being a great professor to

                all of us Engineering and Architecture students. You inspire us to become a

                successful builders and designers someday. I promise that once I will pass my

               board examination I will treat you to a karaoke bar.  Once again, Happy World’s

              Teachers’ Day. We love you sir!”

            Sir Batiao’s grin reached both his ears as he hand shook and received the gifts from his graduating student. The engineering and architecture population created an ear-splitting praise that it echoed throughout the school’s edifices. The two parted ways when the host interrupted and giving dramatic remarks about the student’s comedic yet touching speech. After hearing the two testimonies, I realized that nobody from my students in the past ever gave such heartwarming revelations about my personal attributes and professional performance in the classroom. I guess they only saw the negative side of me without giving notice to the small works I’ve done but I cannot blame them if they don’t see me as their guardian angel. It is just heartbreaking to reflect that your hardwork and professionalism failed to be appreciated by others once you deviate and contradict to their personal interests and desires. I felt that those late night slumbers in making syllabus, computing grades and pursuing a graduate school degree are all useless because I felt that my effort did not exist at all. My existence has no meaning because nobody valued my contributions in making student’s life well-disciplined, knowledgeable and competitive. I am doing my best to be the best version of myself but then my adrenalin started to diminish.

Suddenly, my knees were shaking and I started sweating on a hot October morning, so I decided to go to the air-conditioned faculty room to take a rest from the raucous crowd. Inside, I had teary eyes but I was just holding my emotions for fear of the thoughts that I might be jealous because other teachers are well-loved by their students. As I was sitting on my chair while both hands crossed on the table, I kept asking myself-what does it take to be loved by other people? Why a harmless caterpillar is being disgraced by gardeners when its role is to eat the leaves for survival reasons? Can you still be loved and accepted if your character bear resemblance to an ugly and stinging caterpillar and not to a colorful butterfly?

Stage Three- Pupa

            After my downfall at Christian Colleges of Southeast Asia and MATS College of Technology, I decided to take a break and had a soul searching by attending vocational seminars and visiting different churches around Davao City.  My parents had no idea what really happened to me in the workplace because I zippered my mouth and pretended that everything was okay. When I told my mother that I will focus on my graduate studies and had no plans to work again, she supported my decision and continued communicating with me. One day, I was lucky enough to have a one-on-one conversation with a priest at the Redemptorist Church. I saw him strolling alone in the garden. I confidently approached him and started a friendly conversation until I became serious to the discussion. I revealed to him about the inner monsters that were slowly destroying myself and my profession.

            “Who created these inner monsters?” the priest asked.

            “I don’t know. There are already inside of me. I am really jealous to those fellow teachers who don’t have inner monsters because they are so calm and graceful every time they are on hot waters,” I said.

            “It would be nice if you could identify the origin of these inner monsters because you cannot defeat them if you cannot stub their hearts,” the priest said.

            “How can I trace their origins?”

            “Let me ask you a personal question, did you experience bullying when you were still a child?”

            “During my elementary days, my classmates used to call me “Baboy!” because I was a fat child back then.  Aside from that name-calling, some would teased me that I should put an underwear on my head because my hair had a resemblance to a pubic hair.” I painfully recalled my childhood experiences.

            The priest explained that the bullying might have resulted to unconscious anger that developed in me. This unconscious anger slowly developed into inner monsters that once disturb it will create a mayhem in a person’s life. The churchman counseled me that in order to defeat the inner monsters I should learn to forgive and reconcile with my past who hurt me immensely. He further stressed that it is only through humility and acceptance that we may be able to move on and have a peaceful life.

            It was already dusk when I arrived home from Redemptorist Church. That evening, when everyone was already on bed, my mother and I had an intimate revelation in the living room and I told her everything about my situation.

            “It is shameful because you gave me a good education but I could not stay longer on my job due to behavioral issues,” I said.

            “I understand your situation but mama and papa are not here forever. You have to look for a way to stand by yourself,” mother said.

            “I’m so envious to my friends who are already financially stable, living independently and could buy things with their own credit cards.”

            “Save yourself by controlling your emotions,” she said.

            As I was lying on my bed and covered my whole body with the blanket, I felt that I was like a pupa inside a chrysalis experiencing a lot of changes in my emotional, mental and spiritual aspects. Like a hanging pupa, you only see the outer appearance of the chrysalis as if nothing is going on but inside a metamorphosis is happening. It is preparing the immature caterpillar into a fully grown butterfly. Realizations were bombing in my mind. Feelings of guilt, hope, and reconciliation were overflowing my body. I remembered all of my students whom I cursed and humiliated, I should have talked to them privately regarding their unruly behavior instead of embarrassing and scolding them in public.  I should have controlled my emotions properly instead of letting my untamed dragon set loose its fire. But the damage has been done, the whole village was already burned and the students got scratches and burns. All I have to do now is to move on, repent and think what is good for me. My mother and the priest are right, I should look for a way to stand by myself and defeat the inner monsters living in me. I should forgive my past so that I can move on to the future.

As the celebration was going on at the covered court, I requested Tristan and the student supreme council president to see me at the faculty room. I was sitting on my chair when the two arrived with happy faces. To my curiosity, I asked why they were smiling and laughing when they entered the room and Tristan answered that the video montage presented showed Mr. Adalim sleeping in the faculty room. They thought that Mr. Adalim would get mad but his reaction was a huge chuckle on his face and the audience had a boisterous response to the tribute created by the mass communication sophomores.

            “I called the two of you because I have an announcement to make,” I said.

            “And what could it be sir?” asked Tristan.

            “Please cancel the testimonial tribute for me.”

            The two were confused to my decision and they were scratching their heads as they looked at each other, but after a moment of being stagnant, the supreme student council president returned to the venue to tell the program director and the host to cancel my portion of the show. Tristan remained standing.

            “Why do you want to cancel the testimonial for you?”

            “I feel that if you read or tell your testimony about me, people will think that your speech does not come from the heart. You were just forced to do it because you were told to do so. The outcome will be unrealistic and not heartfelt,” I said.

            “Do you want me to read my testimony for you?” Tristan asked.

            “Be my guest.”

            Tristan got the white paper from his pocket and started reading the piece. I bended my head while listening to the speech:

            “Good morning everyone and happy world teacher’s day! What can I say about

             this English and Literature professor who let us dramatize every American and

             British short story as final exam? First of all he is moody, straightforward, strict,

            loves to insult, loves to humiliate and definitely an obese, overweight  monster.

            Wait! Wait! Wait! I am not done yet, of course those are his external attributes but

           you haven’t seen the internal design. I am proud to say that he is generous, pitiful,

           forgiver, philanthropist, no bad vices, has a perfect attendance and a high remark giver.

          Most of you only see the outside appearance of a person but why not try to unlock

          the door and have a conversation with that person on his dining table. I challenge you

          to do that and once you go out from that house, you will crave for more. Sir, thank you

          for showing both your positive and negative attributes because it teaches us to be

         balance and true to ourselves without hiding the skeletons in our closets.

         Again, happy world teacher’s day!”

         There was an unexplainable tranquility in the room after Tristan read the testimony.  For the first time in my life somebody poured a bucket of ice cold water on me because I was praised and criticized fairly by a student. I looked at Tristan and gave him a sneer and slight nod to the speech he had made. The young man placed the paper on my desk before he sat down on a chair nearby.

            “Sir, what’s the reason behind why you’re not attending World Teacher’s Day celebration since I was still a freshman?”

            “Because I am afraid of embarrassment and insecurities,” I replied.

            “What do you mean by that?”

            “If I attend and nobody gives me a gift while others are overjoyed with flowers then that’s embarrassment. Embarrassment leads to low self-esteem then less confidence results to insecurities. I don’t want to experience an awkward moment in public,” I explained in deepest apprehension.

            “But sir, you just reap what you sow and you have a dose of your own medicine,” Tristan said.  I looked at the young gentleman straight to his eyes and reflected to what he said. He is right, I should not expect students to love me back if in the first place I had this malevolent behavior since the beginning of the class. 

 

Stage Four- Butterfly

            After the program, the students had the chance to greet and give their gifts to their favorite teacher personally. The school administrators prepared a buffet of lunch at the audio visual room, which was, overflowing with beverages, desserts, and repertoire of viand fit for the noblest profession on the planet. I remained in the faculty room while Tristan requested for an earlier dismissal because he had an important appointment. I just sat down and listened to the solemnity of the place, recalling the memories and reflecting the decisions I made in the past. Unexpectedly, a knock was heard from the door, and when the door knob opened, two female freshmen who were under my English class, entered the room, bringing each a greeting card and two red roses. I looked at them closely to their eyes as they came nearer to me and gave the tokens.

            “Happy World Teacher’s Day sir!” they said with the cheesiest smiles.

            “Oh thank you,” I accepted the gifts in a shocked mode.

            “We could not find you at the covered court then the supreme student council president told us that you are here,” said the first girl.

            “Sir, why you did not attend the celebration?” asked the second girl.

            “I just had a headache and it’s inappropriate if I still go there,” I replied.

            “Okay sir we have to go now bye, “said the first girl.

            The two girls kissed me on the check before leaving the room. I opened the greeting card and read the message:

“Happy Word’s Teacher’s Day!

You’re the Best English Professor We Ever Have!”

            Another knock was heard at the door and when the students were started entering and looking for me to give their gifts I was deeply moved by the time and effort. Each of them had a testimony before giving their token of appreciation.

            “Sir, thank you so much for helping me financially so that I may be able to pay the college ball fee,” said Clara, a jeepney driver’s daughter.

            “Sir, I’m expressing my heartfelt gratitude for letting me took the final exam even though I don’t have a permit,” expressed James, a DOTA and mobile legend addict who spent most of his time in the internet café.

            “Sir, thank you for being considerate on my situation. I have a lot of absences due to my work but still you gave me a passing grade,” said Mark, a student by day and a service crew in a food chain by night.

            I accepted their greeting cards with a big smile on my face. I was speechless to the testimonies because all along it was planted on my head that none of my students ever like me but there we go a surprise twist happen.

            “Thank you so much, have you eaten your lunch?” I asked.

            “Not yet,” Clara replied.

            “Since it is World Teacher’s Day, I will treat you for lunch,” I said.

            I treated my three students at Mandarin Tea Garden Restaurant where I ordered four each of wanton noodle soap, plain rice, siopao, and chocolate milk shake.  It was very awkward because my students were hesitant to be themselves, they were very refine and proper as if we were eating on a world class, fine dining restaurant. I tried my best to let them feel comfortable by starting a friendly conversation, in which, very successful because they engaged smoothly to the discussion. I set aside the status and educational differences because I wanted them to feel that right now I am not your teacher but a close friend whom you can reach out and confine your problems. At that moment, I realized that teachers are “locus parentis” meaning second parent to the students. As a second parent, I should always be a role model in terms of what I do and what I say infront of the class because there is a possibility that my students will be influenced and imitate my behavior. The outcome of who they are is the result of what the teacher has been doing inside the classroom. Teachers should always be very careful.

At 40, who would ever thought that a classroom monster would receive gifts, red roses, greeting cards, and kisses from his students? I felt that I was a kindergarten teacher who was so loved by his young and innocent pupils.  I guess those students did not bother seeing the ugly side of me because they saw the positive things in the undesirable atmosphere of the class. And from set a siding the deleterious images, they were able to see the picture that other people failed to grasp. I guess not all people are the same, some would just follow the crowd but others have the confidence to be different and traveled the road by themselves.

I feel that I am already a butterfly giving happiness to someone who lives in a murky situation. I am now a matured individual who was once an undeveloped caterpillar but transformed into a mellowed butterfly. A fully grown butterfly means thinking less of yourself but prioritizing what’s best for the whole group. The inner demons and untamed dragons are now gone. I have successfully defeated these creatures because lately I become considerate, having a controlled temperance and long patience to my stubborn students. I’ve realized that my mission in life is to help the bees spread pollen in the air so that there will more flowers everywhere. I will lay more eggs on the leaves so that more butterflies will be born to help me create a healing garden, a place where people can emancipate their stressful minds and be relaxed to the colorful flowers and flamboyant butterflies they see in the surrounding.

 

***End***