A few weeks back, I picked up two books on sale, and was ecstatic to have bought them dirt cheap: Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress by Dai Sijie for 50 pesos, and Up From Slavery by Booker T. Washington for 30 pesos.
The former is the story of two Chinese teenage boys from the city banished to the mountains to live among the peasants for the crime of being “young intellectuals.” In the so-called Cultural Revolution of China, launched by the communist leader Mao Zedong, a classless society needed to be created. Towards the end of 1968, all boys and girls who had graduated from high school were sent to the rural areas to be re-educated by the poor peasants. This re-education involved working in the fields, mining, and living the life of the proletariat.
Anything of the middle class is condemned, whether material possessions, beliefs, or even behavior. All kinds of books were banned, except those about communism, or those published by the communist party. The two heroes in the book found themselves in a society that deprived them of the right to read books and enjoy the wonders of literature.
They met a beautiful young lady who could barely read, and together the three of them stole a suitcase full of western literature translated to Chinese. Their predicament that seemed to be so hard was made better as they traveled to worlds unknown by the magic of reading.
Also, they read books to their lady friend whose life was profoundly affected by the enlightenment about the life outside of the mountain.
The second book I bought was about a man born a slave in the United States in the 1850’s and after the Civil War he struggled for education when such opportunities were scarce. Amidst work in a salt-furnace, he taught himself the alphabet and basic reading skills, and he attended night school. It was difficult for him to find a teacher since most of the people of his race at that time weren’t educated as well. As the years went by, a school was finally established and he traveled a long way, with barely enough money, to enter it. He was accepted as a student and janitor, and had spent many fruitful years learning. I was deeply moved by his appreciation of the teachers who influenced his life.
Later on, this man, Booker T. Washington became the most influential spokesman for African-Americans of his day.
Last Friday night, my girlfriends and I ran to Greenbelt after our shift at 11pm to catch the last screening of The Reader at 11:30. I chose this movie simply because Kate Winslet bagged an Oscar for it, and I wanted to see why. Having no idea what the movie was about, I didn’t know how much it was going to touch me.
It was the story of a young man’s first love. It was the story of an illicit affair between a teenage boy and a woman in her thirties. And much more, it was the story of illiteracy, the gravity of which needs to be taken more seriously.
Winslet’s character Hanna Schmidt was illiterate, and was ashamed to admit it. Her young lover often read to her and I was simply amused with the way she appreciated the works that, in real life, bored to death the many students who were required to read them in lit classes.
Schmidt later taught herself to read while in prison, with the aid of audio tapes. I will no longer reveal anything about the story in case you haven’t seen it.
All of these have led me to thinking how lucky I am that I can read, that I learned to read for pleasure not only for reference, and I feel even more privileged that I can help others do the same. With this, I promise to do even better, to be even gentler, and to be more patient as I teach the alphabet—-the letters and the sounds. I will no longer be easily angered with the mispronunciation of /f/ as /p/, nor will I rush my student as he is struggling with a word. I will no longer complain as the number of my students who can not read in English only increases day after day, because it is with my magic that that number goes lower. It’s my gift that my voice can encourage; it’s my mission that I pass on to others the ability that so many have struggled and still are struggling to learn.
And with this what I want to do with my life is even more made clear: somewhere out there, there’s a mountain girl in need of education, there’s a little boy working in a salt-furnace looking for someone who can teach him, there’s an old woman who has struggled with illiteracy all her life who needs an understanding tutor. Somewhere outside the comforts of this city, where the lights are only the flickering yellows of oil lamps, where the schools have neither walls nor enough chairs, there are students who need selfless dedication and love.
And little by little I realize why I was put here, in this company: to be trained for my bigger, harder, but definitely more rewarding mission.
The first step begins this June, as I go back to school.
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One of my favorite bloggers, Sandy of Momisodes is a finalist in Scholastic Parent & Child Magazine’s 2009 Mommy Blogger Awards! I love her–she’s beautiful, witty, and hella funny—and if you go to her blog, you’ll love her too, and you’ll see why she should win this.
Please vote for Momisodes here:
http://www.scholastic.com/parents/blogcontest/
Pretty please!
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Congratulations to PM of Prinsesa’s Anatomy, another favorite blogger of mine, for having passed the 2009 Licensure Examination for Nurses. This girl is a brilliant writer, and now one of our Astig Pinay Nurses. Yay!
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I had an idea I got from Brother Utoy—he shares, with almost every post, photos of a stained glass windows from the many churches he had been to. I just thought, hey, I’ll do the same! And because I’m incredibly jologs (my friend Bienthoughts said I’m jologs in a cool way, how oxymoronic) what I will share with you is a collection of Jose Rizal and Kat(RizaliKat) pictures! Jologs? ‘Kay, this is my blog, go away!
The first RizaliKat picture is this:
This was taken at the Lights and Sounds Museum in Manila. The place offers a cool approach to teaching history, with moving mannequins, LCD screens and voice-overs for the price of 100 pesos per head. You must come in groups of ten for you to be accomodated.
