Education
Education is a big part of my life, and I don’t view it as simply the institutions that I attend, but the way of life I lead. My education expands beyond the classroom, the lecture, the homework. It permeates every aspect of my daily living. It’s like diet and exercise. It’s not supposed to be something done to get quick results, but a lifelong change. So… anyhoo:
I started my formal education at a local elementary school in the Philippines. Because my grandparents lived in a rural area, more like a village than anything else, the school had only the bare necessities. Chairs, desks, and a blackboard. The teacher was nice enough, I think, but she hasn’t made much of an impression in my life and I can only identify as some vague concept. I did remember throwing a fit and screaming on my first day because I didn’t want to go.
I was a poor student, sleeping and daydreaming while the class went on. When the year ended and ceremony came, I was one of a very few kids who did not graduate with any distinction. My grandparents probably communicated with my parents regularly, and probably mentioned my ineptitude. With that, I was sent to live with my aunt in the city, to attend a private school. It wasn’t like the Catholic schools here in the US, but a Montessori school. The teaching approach was much more engaging, but I was still a pretty dumb kid, at least when compared to everyone else. However, the materials were beginning to interest me more and more, and I began to try harder.
Looking back at my Philippine education, I truly wished I tried harder. While my parents thought that the education system in America was better, I thought that the classes back in my old country were better after spending some years in the US elementary school system. Despite my poor performance, I learned more in pre-kindergarten than what most kids in the US learn in the 3rd grade.
When I came to the US to start 1st grade, I already knew how to multiply and divide, read in an advanced level, calculate with time, and to write in script. Without me realizing it, the teachers I had previously had gotten through to me, as I was prepared with the skills to take on just about anything. I probably could have skipped several grades, but because of the perceived language problem, I was put in with kids of my year and I had to attend ESL courses. However, because English was taught in the Philippines, I was quite proficient in the language. I was just a quiet person, so the administrators just assumed I couldn’t talk.
Within a few months, they realized their mistake, and noted my academic performance, I was offered a chance to move up. By that time, I had made some friends and being in the same class was the only way we could be together. However, after 2nd grade, I was transferred into an academic program in a different school that started in 3rd grade and ended in 5th. After that, I moved into a different, even more rigorous academic program for middle schoolers. I was finally in a bracket that comprised of kids with similar academic standings.
However, I became disillusioned with the educational system, because in America, more emphasis was given on being “gifted” than in being hard workers. Also, the restrictive methods and the focus on standardized tests bored me to death, and so I let my grades slip [into the high Bs] as my passion for learning turned into a chore.
I applied for the top ranked public high school in the city and the state, MAHS. However, the boredom disease continued to afflict me, and I didn’t try as hard as I should have, putting me back at square one [although I somehow managed to keep a high GPA score]. It was only during my final year that learning became fun again, with the type of teachers I’d been searching for all this time.
Renewed with a fresh outlook on education, I currently attend a local university with an intended major in English education, inspired by the few, but very special teachers who have done so much for me.