Saturday, May 11, 2013

The Wait is Over (1994)

 
We have come a long way. Are you tired so you stopped?
I cannot carry you, should I like to go on
When you do not want to continue what started.
It was my journey all along, travails  - my own.
We ought to be moving to get there together,
Weaving dreams out of momentary forever.
Silence slowly exhaust my spirit that would soar.
Suddenly, I did not know you like as before.
Have we reached the crossroads in time, and so part ways?
Have you gotten tired of my madness in our days?
That desire to keep on 'come my struggle alone.
I'm moving on, that I have to leave you on your own.

Friday, December 21, 2012

Is the end of the world for real?

This morning while I sip coffee, looking at the cloudy sky, my nephew hugged me and asked. "Is the end of the world for real?"

He was just eight years old, two years younger than I am when I first learned of the end of times. I was ten, back in 1985 when I watched a free movie sponsored by a Christian protestant group. From then on, I was scared and had bad dreams related to the apocalypse.

That was the selling point of such group to win people towards their congregation: scare the people to repent and turn back to God. I never joined their group, but I  browsed on the book of Revelations, from the small Bible they gave free. What did I see in the movie that scared me?

People killing each other, people dying, people hiding and fleeing from the evils of the human world, which stressed on the rise of the antichrist. Very few were saved, and found life anew in the new world. The recent movies like Armageddon,  2012, Independence Day, The Day After Tomorrow share the same doomsday message, but with hope that human civilization will survive after all.

I've heard of the end of times since the news on the depletion of the ozone layer broke out in the 80s, and the many other viruses discovered back then which plagued societies around the world. I've heard it again in the 90s when war broke out in the Middle East. I've heard of it once more spurred by the Y2K bug scare. Then again when the Twin Towers in New York billowed to dust.

Now, natural disasters are ever getting worst. World economies are up to keeping their security and beefing up their military. There is a threat to human life, in a wide scale with amassing nuclear arms, biochemical weapons, and global scale terrorism. There is threat to human life in small scale, but with huge emotional impact, just like that of the massacre of school children in China and in the US. There is threat to my country's sovereignty over issues of territorial waters. There is threat to our lives as natural resources are depleting to give way to modernity. There is threat to life when the values that we hold degenerate and lose power over our sanity and morals.

"Is the end of the world for real?"

I could not answer my nephew's question, though he really wanted an answer that time. In my mind I reconciled that I don't know, though I believe its real and it will surely happen. I wanted to keep that hope, that dream for living life in these kids - another generation who in their own time will try to ask the same question again as they grow older.

To me the end of the world has several perspectives. It is dying from decaying worldliness and rising up to a new life which values life in its best. It can be brought about by natural disasters which humans are responsible for. It could be brought about by the greed for power which strikes war and eradicates societies. It could be brought by our neglect to care for other lives, in our own little way. It could be the lost of hope that there is something to live for.


With those in my mind, I could never answer an eight year old's question whether the end of the world is for real? I don't want him to grow up in fear, but rather hoping and believing that life is a beautiful gift God gave for us to appreciate in every minute of our lives. 


Funny, just tonight, I went out and heard of young kids cracking jokes of the end of the world. Traffic should be really heavy on the road due to Christmas rush, not so many cars are around, not so many people in the streets, and no queues at the gates of the malls. Are people really that scared for something so catastrophic we could not expect and would not want to happen, that they ticked off schedules tonight? I wonder how it would be like tomorrow?

Saturday, November 3, 2012

Wath's skouling four smone width dyslexia?

I've heard of dyslexia, but I had to learn more about it when someone in my class had it. The empirical works I've read so far enriched my knowledge about this reading disorder, but it was with the Bollywood film "Every Child is Special" that I understood by heart the feeling of suffering from dyslexia and what schools should do about it.

Indeed, being knowledgeable with a special learning need is important, but without empathy knowledge is just put to waste. After watching the movie, I cried a river and then I thought I would like to make a difference and never repeat a mistake of letting go of a beautiful mind from my care. To my recollection, I did not stand for what is right and just for a student who is challenged by dyslexia.

He came in my class, sat at the last row, but with the best view of the projector and me in the center during our lectures. Mac, that's what he wanted me and the rest of the class to call him. He was the only student in that group of challenged learners who could respond wittingly with intelligent answers. With the first writing diagnostics they had, I was baffled that he was committing gross mistakes in spelling.

It was just carelessness. Then I thought it could be dysgraphia. Later on I realized that he had dyslexia. That encounter with Mac, forced me to do some research and readings on his condition. He could not tell it to me, until his mom intimated his condition during our parents-teachers consultation. What surprised me the most is that with his writing, he demonstrates proficiency in the language structure, and understanding of the grammar rules and word functions. Except that he has difficulty in spelling.

He passed the first term. He passed the second term. While he was under my instruction in the first term, I invited him for tutorials, and we started relearning phonetic reading. He's got little progress. In the second term, his teacher complained of the same thing - his spelling errors. I explained that Mac has dyslexia and he has determination to overcome it. As he has that reading disorder, I advised the teacher to adjust the evaluation for him and allow him to use tools such as a laptop in writing.

He got one of the lowest mark in his writing class, but he passed the subject anyway. Third term was about reading. Although, I was able to advise his teacher regarding his condition, he did not make it in that term. The teacher's observation was that he had slow reading ability, and he had lower comprehension and that he's handwriting could not be understood, and that most of the time he is distracted and would be talking so much. That devastated me.

Mac had the talent for the arts. He could capture what his eyes could see in his artwork. I could remember how he draw me on the board, showing how I look like when I smoke outside the school. He is artistically intelligent, and he has no intent of majoring literature or linguistic. He is much interested in completing a degree in multimedia arts. I knew he would be successful in such field. But, I could no longer see that dream fulfilled because he failed in his last English subject and for that he was dismissed in the college preparatory program.

He was one my brightest student, and he has great potentials. He has the determination and persistence to overcome his reading disorder. It is the school's means to help a student like him which is lacking. It is the teachers' empathic understanding of such condition that is preventing a child like him to achieve something.  It is the standards of "normal" that keeps a learner with special needs who has special talent that makes the school harder for the challenged learner.

I could only do what I can, and I cannot compel other teachers whose mind are narrow to consider one student unprepared and unfit for college. I pity them more, than those students who persevere to overcome their personal challenges, because they think that the classroom is a box for manufactured learners that passed strict quality testing.

Dyslexia is a reading disorder, resulting from a brain malfunction. It has implications to the cognitive ability to comprehend, read and write. It is worsened by the learning environment's lack of knowledge, attention and support to the needs of the learners suffering with it.  It is a reading disorder and not a psychological disorder, it can be remedied by reintroducing the language and helping the learner connect the symbols to the sounds and to the objects in their world. Giving up on them, is giving up on giving them a beautiful life they can have in this world.

What's the school for anyway?