Saturday, December 10, 2022

Hear the Voice

By Jelanie Rose T. Elvinia

One, two, three, four, five.
You are counting the seconds inaudibly while looking at the clock hanging on a wall.  Idly sitting on a chair, there’s that urge for you to rush out of the room and puke in the nearest comfort room. At least the CR gives you a little “comfort” (by its name) in times of agony, compared to where you are seated as of the moment. The classroom is a common abode for knowledge yet it sometimes gives you this indefinite pressure– a kind of pressure that makes your blood boil.
So you are trying to calm yourself.

But there’s just this irritating sound that keeps messing with your hearing. There’s this annoying figure that you keep seeing at the corner of your eye. Let’s say if the pressure gripping your throat could physically smother you, you could possibly die at this very instant. So what is your plan?
Run.
Perhaps that is so easy to say. But normally as a rule-abiding neophyte
you wouldn’t do such form of stupidity inside a classroom. More so that your
imposing teacher tries to shove his or her understanding of the Bible down
your throat. What’s worse is that he or she doesn’t stop until you have it
drilled into your skull. Yes, put behind your other subjects for a while, mind
your religion class. Hence, you put into awareness that you actually belong to an academe with the sea of people of various beliefs – such a wonderful thing to hear. And by this notion, you are so excited going into (religion) class to hear new ideas,
to hear insights, to hear other beliefs, to hear so much more. It is on that day that you are so thrilled to share your own thoughts about what you believe in, about what you think of. But on that same day, your religion teacher says, “No! That
should be like this because this is what I have understood in the Bible.” At
that point you give all of your breath just to justify your stand. But he or she
is unperturbed.

Now, you want to scream.

You want slap him or her on the face. You want to get your stuff and bolt out of the
room. But, you just can’t because of a tacit prohibition more binding than
the lawful one: the culture forbids it. So instead, you decide to sit down,
afraid that in the end he or she will end up messing up with your grade.
Let’s go back to you where you are right now. You are counting the
seconds until the bell rings. But then as you are wordlessly doing it, time
begins to move slower than usual. You begin to think of so many things out
of hatred. You think that not all teachers are good educators. And now you are
considering the figure in front of you as a good example of a bad one. Because
for you, a good teacher is someone who does not simply assist you or simply
guide you in learning but someone who hones you by first respecting and
understanding your ideas, your beliefs and your insights. You think that a
good teacher is someone who sees your faults but still listens to your reason
for thinking or acting that way and use your wrongdoings as instruments
to make you realize how to be a better person. And now, still, you are
thinking deeply, strongly believing in your conviction that he or she is not a
good teacher for he or she disrespects how you perceive things.

The bell rings.

How you wish your teacher knows how you feel. Thus, you write your
heartfelt dismay on this paper. By now, perhaps he or she knows.

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