By Jose B. Maroma, Jr.
When we speak of teachers we normally refer to those in pre-school, elementary and secondary education. In our formative years, they were our mentors who not only imparted textbook knowledge but also helped us develop moral values. Our teachers came during the mischievous days of our childhood and onward to the rollicking years of adolescence. They saw us grow in body and mind. They walked us through athletic meets and talent competitions, rejoiced with us in victory, comforted us in defeat. They also observed us go through the thrills of teenage crushes, the joys and pains of first love. They were our teachers, counselors, and friends. In many ways, their influence is woven into the fabric of our character.
I am a product of public school education in a community then fairly infused with old-fashioned values where everyone knew almost everyone else. I was fortunate to be schooled in the culture of a generation when students would sometimes race to meet a lady teacher at the gate and carry her bag and books to the classroom. This may be a simple act of respect or juvenile flair but, unknowingly, our young minds then were already spawning the virtues of chivalry and deference to authority. The charming practice has vanished but, while it lasted, it showcased the worth of a teacher to a student. My favorite teachers were not only my mentors, but they were also my role models. Learning becomes a pleasure if a student looks up to his teacher. I had to stay up late on many nights memorizing poems in Literature because I wanted to impress my English teacher whom I idolized.
Whenever I went home to the province during work breaks in Manila I would visit some of my teachers, most of them retired. I always noticed a glow in their eyes as they saw a returning former pupil. They would ask how I was doing in my job. If I told them of modest achievements they would feel happy and proud. Deep in their hearts, they liked to think that, in many little ways, they were a part of my success. If I told them of my setbacks, they always had a consoling word. The advanced years had not numbed their motherly instincts. At one time I told my teacher, “Ma’am, I may have made more money than you did but that does not make you less, nor me more. When I was under your tutelage I was not only gathering knowledge, I was building character. A great deal of the good in me is you.”
Almost all of my teachers are gone but their spirits linger like expensive perfume. Hail to all my teachers!
The author is a retired civil engineer from Cabatuan, Iloilo. He likes to spend his time reading and writing on the burning issues of the day.
