The end is near!

Frederick Fennel. I don't know him. I just downloaded the picture to illustrate how I would look like after the graduation due to stress and the constant hmmmm...nevermind :-)

  

Two more days before graduation and three more days before the holy week break and I already can feel the tightening of my stomach and the sleeping of my buttocks, it’s the feeling akin to being atop a tall building and looking down the street. It’s the anticipation of taking a break from the doldrums of the classroom and the stress of the graduation practices.

My co teachers and I have been rehearsing and practicing for the graduation ceremony for the last couple of days and my underarms is starting to develop tumor from the constant-repeated conducting and the mental torture of the constant correction from the master teachers and the principal on how I should execute the conducting: do this, do that, don’t do this, don’t do that. I mean, I take no offense at these corrections but no matter how my bosses coach me, I would not be able to conduct the way they want me to because I am not them. Well, I love my bosses. Anyway, as the saying goes: grin and bear it. The tumor, I hope, is benign.

 

Today we will be rehearsing with the Taytay Marching Band and the stress…my gulay…the stress is taking its toll on me: I am beginning to think of dancing rather than conducting!

 

(I just heard this morning that I will not be conducting because the boss was not impressed by my conducting; the retiring Master Teacher for Music will do it.  Thank God for the release, I am not meant to be a conductor anyway.)

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The school year is about to end; time flies so fast. What happened? About three hundred pupils passed through my classes most of them I didn't come to personally know. I never had the time to get to know most of them except the bright and the not so bright and the hyperactive-attention deficient something pupils: the extremes, those in the middle were invisible. 

All these pupils especially from the lower sections had lots of stories to tell that when I first came here, I was so affected by their circumstances in life that I found it hard to be tough with them. Then realizations came that I was underestimating them and I found out that they were, in reality, very strong individuals. They knew how to survive and they will survive. I also found out that for them to learn, the teachers must speak their language. Anyway...I don't know what I'm talking about here.

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What do I expect next year?

Nothing and no disappointment.