Today, I seriously reconsidered my calling as a teacher. Seldom times have I doubted that this was the way God wanted me to go. It was as if He purposely led me to go there as His servant. The reason why I didn't get into any other colleges because this was the way He planned me to go. But today... today of all days... is the day that I seriously rethought my position.
I set my alarm last night for 5:30 AM. I wanted to start the day early with a quick jog and then be back home by 7 to get ready for church. Lola gave me some Ben Gay for my back last night so I was sure I'd feel better. But I woke up and I wasn't any better. I slept through the morning and woke up at 8 – thirty minutes before we were expected in church. There wasn't any water and mom was taking a bath in the ground floor bathroom. It was the only bathroom that had running water. I ate breakfast, my back still hurting. I felt so stressed out. Not only did I not go jogging, I would probably also be late for school. I was getting fatter by the minute after I raided the bag of Choc Nut that mom bought yesterday. I haven't done sit-ups for about a week and a half today. Before, I felt too lazy to do sit-ups at the rate that I was going before. Now, I physically can't do that anymore. It's like when I finally got my reason to stop exercising, I wanted to start again. Physical, emotional, spiritual stress all abound. I just wanted to give up. I know, I'm such a drama king. Shoot me.
Ruth (Mark's sister) texted me that she was tambourine-ing in the 10:30 service as well and she was leaving her class to me and Grace.
So after mom, I told Tep to go take a bath first since it's not really a big deal for me to go to the 8:45 service in church. Unlike her, I didn't have to teach Sunday School at that hour (My schedule was at 10:30). After her, I let Jem (my cousin who's staying over) bathe first since she was a girl (and today, chivalry is dead). While she was in the bathroom, mom was busting my balls for being too slow and not taking a bath right away. After about ten more minutes of insistent nagging, she and Teppy finally went to church without me and Jem. About fifteen minutes later, me and Jem went to church. The sermon was a bit too preach-y for my taste. Pastor Roy was the speaker and he's the pastor that least appeals to me. I guess his style really isn't for the young.
So I threw my back yesterday, right? I promised myself I wouldn't lift any kids. I promised myself I wouldn't bend so much (to not add any more stress to my back). Grace had to teach the bigger kids because their teacher had gone tambourine-ing too. I was left all alone to the mercy of about twenty preschoolers. I was a bit extra ornery because of my back. All the kids started to play. One of the kids even cried and I had to carry her to Grace. She was a girl and I couldn't reach her. She wouldn't even face me. I just wanted to die! GOD! Shoot me now! Some of the yayas were saying "Saan yung teacher?" (Where's the teacher?) and I wanted to go "You're looking at him" but something told me I was far from these kids' teacher. I was just the assistant and I couldn't shape them up. There were no chairs, no tables to support their learning. The room was a pit of accidents with their low shelves and power sockets everywhere within the children's reach. I knew I was so not meant to be a teacher. I just wanted to run away. When Ruth finally came, she took away the older kids and left the younger kids with me. Eliza, the preschool teacher was M-I-A this week again. I didn't know what to do. I had to deal with the kids one by one, especially this one kid named Princess who was about 2. She was quite the bothersome pest and she always went near the power sockets. About fifteen times, I just stopped and rethought my obligations. Was I supposed to be a teacher? Why couldn't I shape these kids up? Why didn't they listen to me? Why do some of them throw toys at me (yes, they did). Why are some of them afraid of me? I just didn't know what to do. My back was killing me and I wanted to lie down but I couldn't. Not now that there were about three moms and five yayas watching me. I prepared a story but I doubt if they would've listened to me since some of them could not even speak yet. I just stood there, babysitting them. I couldn't help but pick some of them up (bending and lifting – two absolute no-no's) just to stop them from walking out the door. I doubt if they'll be back again. I'm not a teacher. I doubt if I'll ever be the kind of teacher who commands respect and gets results. I was the inefficient teacher. I am the teacher your parents warned you about. I am evil.
I wanted to shoot myself right then and there. The vocation I was so passionate about... the vocation I was convinced I was called for... the vocation I thought God intended for me... it was staring me in the face and I couldn't do anything. About thirty minutes before service was to end, Sis Phoebe (pronounced Febi) went inside to teach them about Zacchaeus and how he climbed up a tree. When she used to do this, I thought "I could do this!". Now, I stared at this septuagenarian and wondered how the hell she was doing what she was doing. I wanted to die. My back wanted to give up.
Grace looked at me after all this and asked me if I was okay. I tried to explain to Ruth and Sis Cecile (Ruth and Mark's mum) about how I fell seven times yesterday and never quite recovered but I just felt like an idiot -- an idiot with no calling for educating the youth. I didn't know what to tell Grace. There was absolutely no excuse for what just happened and I guess that was the most awful thing I had to face.