I Believe

"...the children are our future."

- The Greatest Love of All, Whitney Houston

I was expecting to sit all day yesterday, quietly observing my Supervising Teacher at the back of the small classroom, filled with 37 third graders. When the teacher announced that I'll be the new Student Teacher, they greeted me with mixed reactions. Some are eager, ready to show off. Some are wishful and hopeful, maybe wanting to meet someone new. While majority of the boys seemed unaffected, some are otherwise downright restless.

Surprising me even more, the teacher left me in charge. Gah! It's like 37 9-year-old Joaquins running around. Charlie told Rona her head is full of lies. Miguelito smacked Paulo's head with a book. Caryll is raising her hand, demanding attention. Elijah loudly asked what will they now. And all these, amidst giggling, talking, and singing (yes, singing) small groups of students I'm responsible for.

Just when I thought I couldn't restrain myself from strangling JL because he's making faces at me while I'm talking, it's time for lunch. Caryll, Elijah and Donnabel asked me to have lunch with them. They waited for me, and they saved me a seat, waving excitedly in the cafeteria while I thought of an escape. But oh well. I had lunch with them and my defenses melted. These children are sweet. (I hope I'll still say that about them after four weeks of teaching.)

Today, they presented a play. The Mouse Deer. And they all are...dear, that is.

They are wearing costumes as trees, flowers, water and tigers. They looked so cute. And they can't stand still. The trees were always moving about, some trees were even smacking the head of other trees. The flowers were giggling incessantly. The waters were angry and trying to kick each other. Butterflies wore jeans, and kept on tripping over the white bunnies. The fairies kept on ordering everyone (Uy, pasok na...ano ba???) even when the mic was on.

I sat with the proud mothers (who are snapping pictures left and right), trying not to laugh too hard, but seeing them there, I couldn't help it. They never, not for one moment, suffered stage fright. They weren't embarrassed over their mistakes, instead they will giggle and laugh at their own expense. And they proudly tell their mothers that they should have brought the videocam to capture the whole play, this came from the trees and the butterflies.

As I was driving home, I wondered where did it go? Our enthusiasm, unaffected excitement for life? Put 37 28-year-olds on stage and it will not be the same. I hope those children won't lose that childlike wonder.

Sadly, we will force them to. And eventually, they will.