Watching the news today alarmed me about the Quezon City Science High School (QueSci) conundrum. 4 STUDENTS WERE SUSPENDED FOR BLOGGING ABOUT THEIR PRINCIPAL. Their offense: they gave a false image about their principal thus, including the school, if I heard it right.
I am not familiar with the REAL story on what’s happening in the four corners of QueSci. But since last year, I’ve been hearing not-so-good-accounts about the said ‘principal’ from QueSci students, parents, and alumni.
I am bothered by this incident because this badly reflects the image of the Philippine educational system. The ‘system’ I am pertaining to not only includes the curriculum (what the students are supposed to learn), the government (who is fueling the general literacy program of the nation), but most importantly the bureaucracy (the people at the backbone of the educational system). This bureaucracy includes not only the teachers, but palpably the administrators —people who have positions in running the schools. Let us include in the list those public school principals, superintendents (read: ‘shooooperintendents’), supervisors (read: ‘shoooopervisors’), regional directors, and most importantly the ‘Czar of Education,’ I mean, Secretary of Education.
Why be bothered? Simply, because they reflect how corrupted the system is. Take note, ‘corrupted,’ that’s how worse it is. Corrupted not only in the sense of taking moolah or being plain graft, but corrupted in the sense of idealism, hence, rationality (if ever they have them).
Reading this blog entry of a QueSci student dated 17th of September 2008 and this one dated 28th of June 2008, gave me an insight of what’s going on in that school. From what I’ve read, I’m sticking to the rationality corruption of the administrators of the said school. Although I may say that I’m biased already since I haven’t heard the side of the latter, even my sixth grade students can tell that something is not right in the way things are handled in that high school. And IF EVER, she did say those quoted lines, what kind of evidence would you still ask for?
Why am I awfully bothered by this issue? Because I believe that QueSci produces great students. I know several graduates from this school who are really good, may they be my classmates in college or current co-workers. I may not be an alumnus of this school but I do have high regards with people who came from this school.
Why am I dreadfully bothered by this issue? One, because I have four previous students who are studying right now at QueSci. Two, because 12 of the 31 students from the graduating class I’m handling right now passed the first screening for the said science high. They will take the second screening in the last weekend of the month and I am very optimistic of the results of the test. In four months time, they will be in high school. And by that time, I don’t want them to experience such irrationality in their high school life.
In an interview of a Department of Education Undersecretary, he mentioned that the parents can appeal to the Regional Director regarding the suspension of the four students. It seems that they already know that something wrong is happening in that school. Isn’t that a hint already that they should do their own investigation about the said incident? In the first place, it’s their own personnel who are being castigated in this issue.
And so, I URGE the DepEd people to do something about this matter before it escalates to another level of disparity.
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In another news, random drug testing will be done among public and private high school students staring this March.
The drug tests aims to “determine the prevalence of drug users among the studentry, assess the effectivity of school- and community-based prevention programs, deter the use of illegal drugs, facilitate the rehabilitation of drug dependents, and strengthen the collaborative efforts of identified agencies against the use of illegal drugs.”
I reckon that the rationale of this program is for the benefit of the country’s almost 7 million high school students. What a great feat indeed for the ‘antidrug czar’ of the Philippines, or should I say ‘czarina,’ Madamme president?
And oh! By the way, I just found out that the title ‘czar’ is designated to non-Christian supreme rulers. If you know what I mean…
I am not against the drug testing among high school students. Hence, I was ecstatic to hear that teachers would undergo such testing also. Then, why not?!! Let’s test all teachers out there to see who are always high when they start babbling in front of the blackboards. (I highly suggest that they should start at QueSci).
And another suggestion for the ‘Antidrug Czar,’ why not start with your own government officials?! Wouldn’t it be nice to see that ALL of the government officials are non-drug users (since they always claim that they are not drug pushers).
And so, I URGE the ‘Antidrug Czar’ to conduct first a drug test to ALL public officials to prove to the Filipino society that she’s determined to wage war against drug addiction.
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Am not supposed to be writing this crap tonight. In fact, am supposed to be cramming my kid’s grades coz it’s card day on Friday. But heck. I badly need an outlet. Now back to computing grades…
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Thursday, December 25, 2008
The 25th of December 2008
The time is just 11:55 pm.
So technically, it’s not yet the 25th.
Tic. Toc. Tic. Tic.
In a few moments, the clock will reach 12 o’clock. And hey, the entire world will celebrate Christmas Day!
Families share festive meals, exchange of gifts with their loved ones, friends celebrate with cheers, cellular phone networks crashes caused by the huge traffic of SMS sent, never ending phone calls, television shows countdown, hence, those who are at work has no choice but to render their service to other people —nurses, doctors, policemen, firemen, call center agents, gasoline boys, 24 hour fast food crews, etc. — good thing I never dreamt of being one of them.
Past 12 o’clock. The world celebrates Christmas.
This year I’m celebrating Christmas with my nuclear family —mom, dad, sister, and brother— just like a decade, or more, ago. My sister’s husband and their son are both in Manila, so hypothetically, no extensions this year.
I saw our one and only family picture this morning when I woke up. That picture was taken when I was just eight or nine years old. I missed the good old days —those days when I don’t care about the world around me; days when they kept all the problems from me; times when I wake up on Christmas Day, I’ll find either a gift, a card, a toy, or cash in the sock I hung on the window.
12:20 am. Fireworks stopped. It’s raining.
Rain resembles blessings.
When it rains during your wedding, they say you will be poured with bountiful blessings.
When it rains during your JS Prom and you’re having it on open grounds, maybe your class adviser forgot to hold on to an egg.
When it rains on Christmas day, blame it all on global warming! And I’m definitely sure about this.
12:25 am. The rain stopped.
Suddenly, I miss the Internet. It has been more than 50 hours since the last time I was online. Although there’s an Internet connection here at home, I opted not to get in touch with my friends.
Suddenly, I miss my cell phone. It has been almost 40 hours since the last time I sent an SMS thru my cell phone. Although there’s a signal for my network provider a block away from our house, I opted not to get in touch with my friends.
This is my definition of hibernation. I cut all of my connections to the outside world. I want to hide myself from the world —the world full of agony, bitterness, pain, and inequalities. Agony caused by life’s adversities. Bitterness realized from imperfections. Pain brought by challenges. And inequalities established by a vindictive society.
Past 1 am. Mom asked me to pick up my towel.
When an organism hibernates, it seeks out a den.
Our house is my den. It is a den where I rest at times when I need to hibernate. This is my comfort zone. The free flowing river at the back cleanses my soul. The green mountains around and the majestic Mayon Volcano refreshes my mind. The calmness of air at night rests my body. And the warmth given by my family keeps the flame in my heart to burn.
1:10 am. A group of men passed by our house.
Since silence creeps through the cold air around me, I can hear all sorts of sound here and there. Frogs croaking, crickets making their sound, the cell phone of the neighbor rings, buses and trucks passing by the nearby Maharlika highway screeches, roosters cock-a-doodling (at 1 in the morning!), and my dad snoring from upstairs.
This is what I like best here at home: no traffic outside, I don’t need to buy food from the nearby carinderia, I can eat my dad’s champorado, I don’t need to worry about any bill: may it be phone or internet or boarding or insurance or credit card… even just for exactly two weeks.
In every 52 weeks per year, all I ask is at least two weeks of quality vacation. And I’m thankful to God that He had given me this.
1:30 am. I can feel that my pimple is about to burst.
If you noticed how random my thoughts are, it is because of the following reasons: (1) sudden emotional distress caused my amygdala and hippocampus to panic; (2) my interneurons are lethargic already; (3) it’s my bedtime already; (4) and most importantly, I’m afraid that my pimple will burst on Christmas Day.
This is who I am. And I choose to be myself.
But despite my frailty and my shortcomings, I’m still thankful to the Lord that He blessed me all of these years. Nonetheless, He gave to us His most begotten son, Jesus Christ. Happy birthday Sir! I owe you my life. : )
5 minutes before 2 am. The rain started to fall again.
Written before the clock ticked 12am and ended before the clock ticked 2am; 25th of December; in a house along the Bicol River.
So technically, it’s not yet the 25th.
Tic. Toc. Tic. Tic.
In a few moments, the clock will reach 12 o’clock. And hey, the entire world will celebrate Christmas Day!
Families share festive meals, exchange of gifts with their loved ones, friends celebrate with cheers, cellular phone networks crashes caused by the huge traffic of SMS sent, never ending phone calls, television shows countdown, hence, those who are at work has no choice but to render their service to other people —nurses, doctors, policemen, firemen, call center agents, gasoline boys, 24 hour fast food crews, etc. — good thing I never dreamt of being one of them.
Past 12 o’clock. The world celebrates Christmas.
This year I’m celebrating Christmas with my nuclear family —mom, dad, sister, and brother— just like a decade, or more, ago. My sister’s husband and their son are both in Manila, so hypothetically, no extensions this year.
I saw our one and only family picture this morning when I woke up. That picture was taken when I was just eight or nine years old. I missed the good old days —those days when I don’t care about the world around me; days when they kept all the problems from me; times when I wake up on Christmas Day, I’ll find either a gift, a card, a toy, or cash in the sock I hung on the window.
12:20 am. Fireworks stopped. It’s raining.
Rain resembles blessings.
When it rains during your wedding, they say you will be poured with bountiful blessings.
When it rains during your JS Prom and you’re having it on open grounds, maybe your class adviser forgot to hold on to an egg.
When it rains on Christmas day, blame it all on global warming! And I’m definitely sure about this.
12:25 am. The rain stopped.
Suddenly, I miss the Internet. It has been more than 50 hours since the last time I was online. Although there’s an Internet connection here at home, I opted not to get in touch with my friends.
Suddenly, I miss my cell phone. It has been almost 40 hours since the last time I sent an SMS thru my cell phone. Although there’s a signal for my network provider a block away from our house, I opted not to get in touch with my friends.
This is my definition of hibernation. I cut all of my connections to the outside world. I want to hide myself from the world —the world full of agony, bitterness, pain, and inequalities. Agony caused by life’s adversities. Bitterness realized from imperfections. Pain brought by challenges. And inequalities established by a vindictive society.
Past 1 am. Mom asked me to pick up my towel.
When an organism hibernates, it seeks out a den.
Our house is my den. It is a den where I rest at times when I need to hibernate. This is my comfort zone. The free flowing river at the back cleanses my soul. The green mountains around and the majestic Mayon Volcano refreshes my mind. The calmness of air at night rests my body. And the warmth given by my family keeps the flame in my heart to burn.
1:10 am. A group of men passed by our house.
Since silence creeps through the cold air around me, I can hear all sorts of sound here and there. Frogs croaking, crickets making their sound, the cell phone of the neighbor rings, buses and trucks passing by the nearby Maharlika highway screeches, roosters cock-a-doodling (at 1 in the morning!), and my dad snoring from upstairs.
This is what I like best here at home: no traffic outside, I don’t need to buy food from the nearby carinderia, I can eat my dad’s champorado, I don’t need to worry about any bill: may it be phone or internet or boarding or insurance or credit card… even just for exactly two weeks.
In every 52 weeks per year, all I ask is at least two weeks of quality vacation. And I’m thankful to God that He had given me this.
1:30 am. I can feel that my pimple is about to burst.
If you noticed how random my thoughts are, it is because of the following reasons: (1) sudden emotional distress caused my amygdala and hippocampus to panic; (2) my interneurons are lethargic already; (3) it’s my bedtime already; (4) and most importantly, I’m afraid that my pimple will burst on Christmas Day.
This is who I am. And I choose to be myself.
But despite my frailty and my shortcomings, I’m still thankful to the Lord that He blessed me all of these years. Nonetheless, He gave to us His most begotten son, Jesus Christ. Happy birthday Sir! I owe you my life. : )
5 minutes before 2 am. The rain started to fall again.
Written before the clock ticked 12am and ended before the clock ticked 2am; 25th of December; in a house along the Bicol River.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
bored? try me.
am supposed to:
but naaaaah... it's part of the season.
let's have a break and play these winterbells...
hope you have fun!!!
*blame it all not nate* grrrrrrrrrr!
- deposit in the bank
- pay bills
- shop for gifts
- visit ortho
- clean up desk full of gifts
- check papers
- blog
- plurk
- check mail
- din-din with 'after dinner friends'
- club
- pack luggage
- and many more!
but naaaaah... it's part of the season.
let's have a break and play these winterbells...
hope you have fun!!!
*blame it all not nate* grrrrrrrrrr!
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