Trivial

When I first encountered the term “trivial” in Oscar Wilde’s play “The Importance of Being Earnest”, I had a confused idea. I thought the word is something related to “trivia”; that the word trivial might be an adjective that talks about a certain noun worthy of being tagged as a trivia. In fairness to my low level of thinking, I used structural vocabulary analysis since I thought that trivia is the root word. Makes sense eh?

But as I prepare my paper in literary criticism, I realized that the term is not as I thought it was. I found out that it’s an adjective that means “of little significance or value”. That is when I finally understood Wilde when he talked about trivialities and human folly. Indeed, Wilde is correct when he said that most people tend to prioritize trivial things over the most basic yet truly important activities.

In the "school" where I teach, this happens most of the time. People at the upper management of the school tend to scrutinize the aesthetics, the presentation of something without even considering the content of such. Layout, colors, neatness, etc. are what they look for in everything that you submit. It should follow the “standard.” It should be neat. It should be this and that. Crap.

In all fairness, there’s nothing wrong with scrutinizing the aesthetic value of a certain project, paper, or output; that’s part of it (N.B. “part”, “portion”). But it is quite illogical and pathetic to look into the details of the presentation when you haven’t even studied the contents. You call yourself a “manager” a “boss” and you don’t even know how to dig deeper into the most crucial and important issues???!!! Shame on you!

What’s irritating about these “culture of quality work” is the fact that they will start scrutinizing from the outside going inside. The result? Piles of scrapped papers and ink cartridges, thousands of white hair, and tons of stress and vexatious moments.

Imagine, you worked for a certain output overnight. You buried your eyes over your laptop (that nearly got you blinded); you ransacked your brain to present your output in a logical and sensible manner. Then all you get is an eyebrow raised just because you didn’t follow the “standard format”. Then they’ll ask you to repeat your work perpetually. Can’t they just give the corrections all at once? Two or three corrections are acceptable but if your output returns more than 4 times in a day, there must be something wrong (either with you or with the “culture” that your workplace practices). Imagine, all your hard work will be weighed and sold to a junk shop?


I have realized that this entry is full of anger. Indeed it is. And to hell if the higher ups read this.

Pains of Being a Teacher

I have realized that the most painful part of being a teacher is not the difficult nor the multiple tasks; it’s not the fatigue that one will feel after every class; it’s not the irritation that one will experience whenever the class is noisy; it’s not the litany of the head, principal, or dean because you did not comply with a certain requirement or procedure. It’s when you observe that your students seem not to learn anything from you.

Lately, Kay and I were discussing about our experiences in teaching. Although I graduated ahead of her, we both started teaching this school year. Most of the time, she would complain about the behavior of her “boys”. Freshmen high school boys are naturally rowdy and noisy. On my part, I told her that I don’t have any problem as regards discipline. I’ve been telling her that dealing with my cadets is a lot more tolerable than dealing with the owners and administrators of the school.

However, I have observed lately the poor performance of my cadets. Most of them got a low score during the prelim exams, and I just can’t help but be worried. “What was wrong?” I keep on asking myself, “What went wrong? Principle? Language learning theory? Classroom Management? Teaching Strategy? Instructional Materials? Assessment Tools? Which one?”

I didn’t feel any anxiety regarding the fact that the management will blame me and might scold me for the cadets’ poor oral and written communication skills. Instead, I felt sorry for myself. I felt so pathetic. Maybe I’m not an effective educator.

Most of my classmates in my undergraduate years and in my masteral studies (and even Kay) tend to regard me as “a good student.” They see me as a “bibo kid” inside a classroom because I actively participate and seem to have all the answers that the professor would give. Sadly, I see myself now as a mere “bibo kid”. I’m a disgrace to the PNU Enlish Department. It seems that I’m only good at theories and concepts, but I fail to apply them in class.

I‘ve realized that the shadows of my students’ illiteracy and incompetence would forever haunt me.

But I shall fight back. I must illuminate the path. I must change the course of history. I don’t know how, but I will.