Originally written in TACKED THOUGHTS for The Freeman by Nancy Unchuan Toledo Earthquakes, even the not-so-intense ones, are unforgettable experiences. (And the 2012 prophecies, no matter how unlikely, don’t help either.) There is something quite terrifying about being completely out of control. About being utterly helpless against something bigger than oneself. Suddenly, the “world” we … Continue reading Shaken
Reunion
Originally written in TACKED THOUGHTS for The Freeman by Nancy Unchuan Toledo I met a former student at a bookstore the other day. He was the first batch of kids I ever taught. He and his classmates were about 16 when I met them. I had just graduated college and was only a couple or … Continue reading Reunion
Gratitude
The first few weeks of class are always stressful for me. My brain is still on vacation mode and my body is used to lying down all day. Summer for teachers means waking up late and not caring about lesson plans or test papers. It means not having to strain our voices to be heard above 40 restless chatterboxes. It is a good time. And one of the best things about teaching. (I seriously believe that if people took out summer vacation from teachers and students, we’d have a lot of cases of violence in school.)
Goodbyes
I’ve never liked goodbyes. Or well, to be more accurate, I don’t like about 90% of the goodbyes I’ve said in my life. The 10% accounts for people I never got close to or I never got along with. But that 90%... that 90% was mighty painful. That 90% included family members, close friends and students that have gone in and out of my life. We live in a generation of mass migrations and impermanent situations. Some are destined to leave. And some are destined to be left behind. More often than not, I find myself in the latter group.
A Friend
As a cradle Catholic, I grew up thinking that the saints were as real as my friends. Only, they had more power—although not quite dressed as fashionably as the Super Friends. Aside from my family, they were the constant in my life. And I don’t just mean in a spiritual abstract way. I mean, their photos and statues were in all the places I spent most of my time. They were there in our house. In my grandmother’s house. My aunt’s house, where I spent summer vacation. At church. In school. They’d even be at the department store—even if they were there for different reasons. They were always the same. Always in the same pose. Always dressed in the same way. Always with a halo.
Single Blessedness
When I became a teacher, I learned the hard way that my private life and public life didn’t really exist. There was just, my life. And all of it was for public consumption. My students didn’t really care that I could have a professional life and personal life. They asked me whatever question they could think of. And those that I didn’t answer, they just filled in with rumors.
A Mighty Good Man
These days, there are plenty of magazines and TV shows sprouting information about what a “real” man ought to be. If you look through any of these articles, you might find that today’s man is defined by the gadgets he owns, the car he drives, the money he earns and the number of girls he can seduce. The boy next door is passé. The metrosexual is in. This man exudes confidence and charm because deep down he knows that he really is all that. Sometimes, if you’re a lucky girl, he’ll let you see him under his armor and you will get a glimpse of his sensitive side.
Forgiveness
It is easy to check how much taller we've grown or how many more wrinkles and gray hair we have and how much weight we've gained over the years. But it's a little bit more tricky when we want to check how far we've come in terms of our-as one writer calls it-"inner landscape." I've found that rereading journal entries, old letters and old college and high school compositions is a good way to look at emotional and psychological photographs of ourselves.
prayersofapilgrim.com 