Headbutt With Reality

So I was sitting on the edge of the reality, that made me think over and over again about the decision I have done several months ago. I was overwhelmed with how UP can bring me to some avenues I, myself, could not even imagine I might go to. It is hard to quench yourself with the reality that really sucks and really, if I may consider, regretful.

Six years. I spent six years in UP. Yes, I am proud of it not because I spent longer time than I supposed to, but because during that span of time I learned things I think I couldn't learn outside. 

I was hooked up with the "ultimate" freedom we, Isko and Iska, enjoyed whenever we are inside the campus. I enjoyed it and was captured wholly by it. Never did I realize, UP is not the real world. UP, if I could say, is the ideal world where people experience things in the time frame they choose for themselves--no deadlines, no limitations. We can choose the courses we want to enroll at, and we can choose when we will take it. 

After graduation came the fact that I have to step out of the world I was once in and face the real world I am about to be in. Supposedly I should have enough preparation to face it, but I failed. Up to this very moment, I am longing to the UP experiences I have done. Well, they said, it is a norm for a UP grad to experience such. "Graduation / Separation Anxiety," they said. Whatever it may be, I am convicted to have it.

Now that all I have were memories of my UP life, I need to move forward and face the fact that I am now living in the real world where chances are not always fair and the road to success is not always smooth. Yes, it is hard but same as how I survived UP life, I know I can survive it all.

Me as a Counselor

It has been a routine that every time I enter my Grade 5 room, they always tell something happened wrong. One time, I saw a kid crying because he is bullied. Another, they asked they haven't had their recess yet. What an experience is it, right. However, despite of all the commotions happened before our Math time, there is this boy who always ask for my hand and "bless" me. He is always greeting me with a smile. Because of his instigation, almost all of his classmates do the same.

Unfortunately, yesterday everything seemed to be uneasy. The boy who is asking and greeting me with a smile greeted me with his teeth gnashing in anger and his fist closed as if he was going to hit somebody's face. I asked what happened. Of course, angles of stories arisen as everyone told his insight of what REALLY happened. I, being a teacher, don't want to start with our lesson with unsettled issues. So, instead of reviewing them for their upcoming exam, I used my time to hear and know what really happened. So, I asked them one by one of their side of the story. I weaved their insights and formulated the whole story. (Of course, I won't disclose what really happened.) I was astonished to what I heard. So, in my position, I asked those who are involved to stay inside their room so I may talk to them privately and rebuke them. I was not satisfied with what I did, so I asked those who started the commotion to have a talk with me, individually. 

The first one, I asked why he mentioned that thing. He said, he just want to add something to burst the issue being built up. I rebuke him and asked him to stop researching about that thing. He promised me he'll do.

The second one was different and a bit intense. I heard a lot about his misconduct. He was always the mastermind of teasing and noise inside their room. When I asked where he got the idea he has raised up, he said on their vicinity. I continuously asked him some questions until I got the very root of the problem--FAMILY.

He shared his problems with his family. All I thought was he gets all the attention of his family since he is the youngest. And that is why he wants to get all the attention in school.  It is a very different story. His father beats him whenever he gets low grades; his mother shouts at him and mocks him for not being an achiever as his other siblings; his ate always pressures him to be perfect; he feels unloved and unnoticed. While he is telling me his story, he is weeping. 

At the back of my mind, I said, "Oh no, what have I done?" But then, I realized it is supposed to happen that way for me to know the reason behind his misbehavior. I finally understand him. It is only when we listen, we understand things clearly. I tell him that if he doesn't feel his parents love him, I love him as my child (though I haven't had one yet). I also assure him that whenever he feels sad and he wants someone to talk to, I am more than willing to listen to his every story. 

The people who supposed to be his refuge and resting arms become now the thorns that hurt his young heart very severely. It saddens me ultimately. But then again, I have nothing to do but to help him out of the sea of pressure he is in, by believing in his potential and guiding him to be the best child he could be.