My gulay

There’s something wrong with my teaching style (or the lack of it). I am moody. I shout at my pupils (which is a no-no according to the theories of teaching). I tell them to shut-up, to keeeeeeeeppppppp quiet! Take your seeeaaaaaaattttttttt~!!!!!! Okay, you’re making me angry…….write “I will obey my teacher” one hundred times in your notebooks.

I threaten, I plead, I dance, I sing, I laugh. I pretend that I am crying. I do puppet shows with my shoes. I pretend to call the president of the Republic with my little Nokia cellphone. I sometimes program my cellphone to ring at a certain hour. And when the phone rings, I look at my noisiest pupil and tell him that his father is calling me and that I am telling his father that he is making my life hell, and that I am telling his father to beat the heck out of him….and so on. But after making the false call, and seeing the little guy’s face turn pale, the class can see a smile in my eyes and know that I am just kidding and then they will laugh. We will all laugh. The victim will laugh, and then we will all be laughing our hearts out! I have a noisy classroom.

We sing Ottis Redding’s “Sitting on the Dock of the Bay,” scouting songs, gospel songs, praise and worship songs. Why we even do Chinese versions (changgg-chungg-cheee-wooohhhhoooo).

We laugh.

We argue!


Truth is my pupils do not respect me!!!!!!

I can’t say if I am doing right.

I know this is not normal, but many of my pupils call me “Daddy.” One even told me that he wants me to be his adopted father.

I don’t know if they like or they think I’m Santa Claus (because of my belly which they love to punch).

My gulay!!!!!!