Growing up, I was what you’d call a “campus brat” -- both my parents were UP professors when I was born, and they still are to this day. I was exposed to all kinds of teachers, from my permanent and (countless) student teachers in UPIS, to the ones my parents worked with in their college, and to my parents themselves at home, as well as at least half of my extended family. However contrary to popular belief, growing up in a household of teachers didn’t encourage me to want to teach -- it actually had the opposite effect.
It wasn’t that I thought lowly of the teaching profession. If anything, seeing my parents’ sacrifices made me develop the utmost respect for it, and for them. To me, teaching is one of the most noble professions, and it’s also one of the most rewarding. Seeing my parents’ eyes sparkle whenever they talk about outstanding students, or the proud look on their faces when their former students succeed in their fields -- those things showed me how much passion teachers have. But at the same time, seeing those same sacrifices made me think that I didn’t want to do the same, no matter how noble and rewarding I thought it was. It just isn’t for me.
High school made me realize that I wanted a career in writing after college, so I set out to make that happen. I started a blog in my first year of high school, and two years later I was already attending the Philippine Blog Awards for it. I didn’t win anything until last year, almost four years after I started writing, but even back in high school I was dead-set on becoming a music critic. I chose Comparative Literature as my course in Diliman because I wanted a solid foundation in theory and critical analysis, and because throughout my basic education I really, really enjoyed reading. Unknowingly, choosing CL also meant re-opening the door to teaching that I had closed, but not really completely locked.
I’ve realized that teaching isn’t really something I can escape without at least trying it out. Sure, I had come to the conclusion that I didn’t want a career in teaching long ago, but now that conclusion seems half-baked at most. Sure, I’ve seen my parents in and out of the classroom, I’ve gotten to know their fellow professors in a more personal way, but I’ve never really experienced teaching for a long period of time. I taught English for a day back in high school, but I was totally unprepared (my teacher told me late, and gave me the wrong date D:) and I didn’t really do anything either.
So before I completely rule out the possibility of teaching for the rest of my life, I thought I’d at least give it a shot. If I don’t enjoy it, then I can be sure of my past conclusion. But if I do enjoy it, then that’s yet another addition to my list of possible future careers.
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