Learning about Teaching: Of making money and being in debt (4 of 5)

BY EDISON MARTE SICAD

YEARS BACK, as I was waiting for my turn to pay, the cashier was pouring over the contents of a folder with markings paid, not paid, overdue. Upon closing the folder (an inch thick), I was surprised as to what was written on its cover: it was a name of a public school. Noticing how the cashier prioritized that folder instead of me and the others queuing up to pay our monthly rent, I surmised that you can make more money with teachers than with apartments. Then the cashier placed the folder on top of the other folders—also more or less an inch thick.

Although I have heard stories about teachers borrowing money, it never occurred to me that such a practice can be that organized to the point of being institutionalized. Hopefully, R.A. 11466, otherwise known as the Salary Standardization Law of 2019, could alleviate the financial difficulties of the teachers with its policy of providing a “just and equitable compensation in accordance with the principle of equal pay for work of equal value.”

OF MAKING MONEY

“Si ma’am gabaligya tocino.”

During my elementary years, I didn’t see anything wrong with teachers selling in school. I was able to differentiate the “area of commerce” between the canteen and the classroom. Students and parents did buy; teachers were happy; and there were fewer corporal punishments. Of course, this scenario is anecdotal as well as nostalgic to some of us; but this has become the metaphor of a teacher’s dilemma: to facilitate for learning and at the same time for extra earning; to love teaching to the point of hating oneself; to fill students with inspiration and go home drained; or one can just go abroad and be a modern-day hero (whatever that means).

I would sometimes be asked: “When will you transfer to a public school?”, “When will you finish your M.A.?”, “Will you proceed to PhD?” Good questions. Sincere concerns. But I sensed a subtle—and even an insidious—insinuation to such asking: a rationalization—well-nigh valid—which I abhor although arguably practical: in a public school, my (retirement) benefits are promising and secured; with an M.A. degree, I can get promoted and earn more; with a PhD, I can already proclaim “I have arrived”—not to mention it sounds good when introduced as a judge, speaker, or guest to a school activity or barangay fiesta.

But I am a pathological nonconformist: I wouldn’t do what is expected from me as required by rules and regulations, which are followed by practically everyone else. In fact, I was already teaching for more than six years before I forced myself to take the Board Exam for Teachers.  I have this habit of not following the “usual practice” that sometimes got me into trouble.

I have nothing against those who teach in public schools and have M.A.s or PhDs. I admire their tenacity. But some people got into the practice of doing the right thing for the wrong reasons to achieve a superficial accomplishment: thesis for sale; questionnaires filled up by friends who are not the respondents; and recycled titles.

Don’t get me wrong; I love the whole idea of research and innovation. But somehow—because of my idealistic nonsense and absurd principles—I believe that this “academic inflation” (the race for M.A.s and PhDs) had some counterproductive and counterintuitive consequences: instead of making meaning in the advancement of learning, it morphed into making money for personal gains. It might as well be just a cosmetic approach for accreditation purposes: the modules and assessment folders look beautiful, and the teachers beam with haggard smiles as the principal exclaims, “Congratulations! Next year again. Let us do better than our best!”

OF BEING IN DEBT

Question: If teachers will have an increase (equal pay) in their salary, will there be a significant improvement (equal value) in student learning?

This carrot and stick approach may be demeaning to teachers. But in the same way that students are eagerly waiting for the dismissal time and looking forward to the No-Class days, teachers are also counting off up to payday and counting on the 13th month pay, among others (guilty here).

DepEd order No. 022, s. 2021 states, “to enhance the financial literacy and financial capability of all learners, public school teachers, and DepEd personnel to make sound financial decisions that lead to financial health and financial inclusion,” financial education will be included in the curriculum. To some entrepreneurs, this policy is like barking up the wrong tree: the Financial Literacy program could just be, well, a good program—appreciated in theory but not in practice.

We oftentimes connect Financial Literacy with Entrepreneurial Spirit. And such spirit thrives on innovation and creativity. But unfortunately, the school system is all about conformity—as one British author lamented that schools can kill creativity (Watch the TEDtalk of Sir Ken Robinson).

So, why do teachers have debts? There can be a million reasons: from family needs to lack of support from (the heavens) above—ever heard of the visitation of the gods? And it might be systemic for teachers could lose their morale (or sanity) because of the corruption festering around them, and thus infecting them as well (But compare this to the educational system of Finland).

But one reason for such debts could be the Lifestyle Inflation: as the salary increases, the expenses also increase (guilty here); the wants become needs and spending even becomes therapeutic (guilty again).

IN CLOSING, I became a teacher because I love reading books and critical thinking: look for problems, search for answers, consider alternatives, and ask more questions. I even don’t like quantifying learning by grading the students. We mostly do not prepare them for life; we are just teaching to cover that coverage and preparing them for that exam—after which they will most likely forget the lessons (Read the book Most Likely to Succeed: Preparing Our Kids for the Innovation Era by Wagner and Dintersmith).

But still, I have high hopes for teachers, especially public school teachers. If the youth is the hope of the fatherland, then the teachers are the hope of the hope of the fatherland. Hopefully, this is the equal value that we are giving to our students: that they will learn how to face the uncertainties with courage and—despite what looks like a bleak horizon—journey onwards in living life with hope./PN

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