Who Am I?

During my "lunch break" from checking reflection papers, I decided to write about what I've learned from my students' words. Their papers were meant to answer these questions: "Who am I? What experiences shaped who I am? What do I want to become?" Yes, I know they're the ultimate overused reflection questions, but I think it's important for an adolescent to really think about these questions, especially in a Psych class. After finishing two sections' worth of papers (and still one more to go), I came up with a list of things that struck me most:

Some students feel like they don't have options, while others feel like they have too many. Either one can be a struggle to deal with. 

Didn't most of us go through this? Then again, many of us twentysomethings still experience this. Some are pressured by parents or social expectations into taking a single path, regardless of one's actual desires. Others are so gifted that they are bombarded with so many options, but no single choice resounds as THE road to take. We call it quarter life crisis, but it actually begins in adolescence. 

Students need to be heard, even when they make themselves seem like they don't care.

I regret the fact that I have barely heard most of my students' voices in class. Because of this, their reflections are actually the only way for me to really get into their heads. Their writing about this particular topic startled me into realizing that they all have so much to say, and that there is so much depth to all of them even if some of they might space out, sleep, or talk to their classmates during my class. It's a pity that I'm only really getting to know them towards the end of the sem. Knowing this, I guess it means that I need to encourage them more to speak up during class, but not in a way that pressures them.

Children can be awfully cruel, especially to the chubby kids.

A lot of kids go through a hellish childhood when their peers tease them about being fat. Many grow up with doubts about themselves, and take matters into their own hands by shedding several pounds (whether through healthy or unhealthy means). Some decide to shy away from the spotlight, making themselves almost invisible. Others do the opposite and use this as leverage to try to excel in other fields, and show their tormentors that the extra weight won't stop them from doing what they want. Regardless of the route they decide to take, their childhoods are less than ideal. Of course, this unjust experience of bullying is not exclusive to the chubby kids. There are other versions of persecution that go on in schools that play a major role in the identity formation of their victims.

College students are stronger than they seem.

Young as they are, a lot of them go through challenges that many adults like myself have never had to grapple with. It's admirable how much resilience they are facing life with, that they are sure to overcome whatever else comes their way. Some of them speak with such optimism that you wouldn't even realize how much they've been through. Of course, others have had an easier life, but they also possess a strength and courage that only needs to be tapped. Oftentimes, they just need to believe in themselves more.

Being a psych teacher means earning the trust of your students.

I could see clearly how much more open my students are in this paper compared to those from the earlier part of the sem. Of course, some are innately high in self-disclosure than others, but the way that their honesty has progressed is very encouraging. I never imagined that I would have them telling me about things that they wouldn't even tell their friends about. This is something I consider both touching and daunting at the same time. 

Earning this trust involves the responsibility to become more than just a teacher to them.

This is the reason why. It doesn't stop at me giving them grades for what they wrote on those papers. By being entrusted with their thoughts and feelings, I feel a duty to do something more. None of them wrote that they needed my help. Some of them might even think that I'm being assuming offering my assistance. Maybe they just needed to be heard, and writing it down was enough for them. But what if there are some who do genuinely need help? All I can do is offer to listen, really. I'm no therapist, but I still believe that I can at least be there for them by letting them speak without my passing judgment on them. Hopefully, that'll be enough.



To end, I'd like to thank my students for letting me peer into your vulnerability. I leave you with a TED talk by Brene Brown on The Power of Vulnerability.  

On Freedom and Work

Fridays are always my most difficult work days. It's that day of the week when I don't have to leave the house, so my tasks involve thesis, teaching or market research work, with the internet as my biggest enemy. It's particularly worse today because my phone conked out on me, so my need to stay connected (and therefore stay sane) is only addressed by the internet. So I might as well just get all these thoughts out of the way, and hope that this unclogging will help me refocus.

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PoCH Martial Law Special

Today, people commemorate the 40th anniversary of the declaration of Martial Law. To help students become more aware of this fading historical memory, Psych O'Clock Habit, the UP Psych Department's radio program on DZUP decided to have a Martial Law special last night. While I sat there listening, it dawned on me how little I really knew about the story of this era in our country's story. Aside from the edited stuff that they fed us in school and online, I haven't really been in touch with the humanity and the relevance of this period. Being someone born a year after the EDSA Revolution, I had to wonder what even younger people knew about Martial Law. It would be pretty safe to assume that they know even less than I do.

After all, we belong to a privileged generation that was born during a time when speaking up was the norm, and elections meant hearing politician's faces plastered everywhere and putting up with traffic jams caused by campaign convoys. But how have we really used this freedom that we are enjoying now? Have we used this capacity to make choices in a way that would actually make an impact on the lives of people around us? Probably not enough. As an educator, this democracy has allowed me to speak my mind in the classroom without fear of being punished severely (although I still feel a slight need to be guarded when teaching in a Catholic university in light of recent national events). But in the pressure to be able to teach my students all the concepts that are essential for them to pick up in a Psych 101 class, I have been unable to make them really understand the implications of all the things they have taken for granted. I'm no history professor, but I think it's still important for students to get a better grasp of their context and their possible impact on the society that they belong to.

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Speaking of teaching. I recently stumbled upon this article on what work is really for on the day that I (finally) got my first paycheck from UP. Of course, I began teaching knowing and constantly reminding myself that I'm not really gonna make money out of this job. I used to think that would be the biggest hurdle in deciding to continue teaching, but it dawned on me at the moment I read that article that this meager income may actually be a good thing. Of course, I might also be able to say this because I do market research on the side, and I consider this my main source of income. But when I look at the way I treat teaching versus market research, I see the truth in what the article says: work feels more like a burden when you're doing it for the money.

Because teaching is not the most lucrative of professions, there are greater motives that drive one to continue doing it. After all, you see people staying on for decades of their lives, and they're obviously not there to get rich. With my first sem almost over, I'm beginning to see what that's all about. Sure I may become exhausted after teaching three classes in one day, and dread the thought of checking mountains of papers. I occasionally feel happy about getting a no class day, and frustrated when my students don't listen or just don't get it. But I never felt like I'm doing it because I have to. I'm doing this because I chose to teach, even if there are other more materially rewarding professions that I can easily get into. Sure, I may eat these words when I start having to worry about supporting kids, but at this point in my life, I can say with certainty that I am where I want to be. I'm just fortunate to have also made good career choices in the past so I at least have some ways to make up for the shortcomings of the academic life.