Teaching is a very noble profession. You won’t hear these words in our country anymore. Some teachers here have in fact resorted to just teaching students without creativity or extra mile because they see the small budget instead of possibilities. You can’t blame them because they are one of the country’s most neglected professionals who receive a measly salary every payday, just enough to get them through to the next kinsenas. And so, dangal is a very real topic close to home that a teacher can teach to his students. By the fact that we teachers have chosen this path when many of our friends say we’re just wasting our life away, shows our deeper convictions when it comes to this virtue.
Teaching is a very noble profession.
I’m a grade school teacher who has been given the privilege of teaching Social Studies. And one of those things that I have been carrying in my heart from my studies of Philippine history is the fact that time and time again there would arise a hero who would be the embodiment of the Filipino spirit, who would refuse to succumb to the colonizer, who would call the whites “mapuraw / maputla” instead of “maputi” because they saw their brown skin color as way above those who possess white skin. These are heroes who established kingdoms, not barangays, who fought our colonizers and saw themselves as a people who can rub shoulders with their neighboring Asian kingdoms. We had something in us before that we have totally lost. Dangal.
One morning, I had clearly set my mind to teach my Grade 4 students dangal. I wrote on the board several figures: Vietnam $208,333; Japan $220,000; Singapore $50,000; Australia $874,920; South Korea $300,000; United States $50,000; France $14,500; World Health Organization $2,000, and so on. I heard murmurs in the class. I asked them, “Sino makapagsasabi sa akin kung ano ang ibig sabihin ng mga numero na nakasulat sa pisara?” Many of them raised their hands and answered, until one of them gave the right one. “Tama,” I said, “ito ang mga ibinigay ng mga iba’t ibang bansa sa atin bilang tulong para sa mga naapektuhan ng bahang Ondoy.” With a short pause, I said, “Tama ba na tumanggap ng tulong sa kanila?” Many of them were puzzled. “Sino may sabing tama ito?” Many raised their hands. “Sinong may sabing hindi ito tama?” Just a few raised hands.
Several boxes of foreign aid for typhoon Ondoy (Ketsana)
I called a student, and told the class, “Kunwari gutom na gutom na ang kaklase ninyong ito. Hindi siya kumain ng pitong araw. Nagdala ako ng isang malaking ensaymada. Syempre, gustong gustong niyang kainin ang ensaymada ngunit nang tinitingnan niya ito, nilaglag ko ito bigla sa aking paanan, sinipa at sinabi, ‘Kainin mo. Gusto mo di ba?’ Tanong: Kakainin mo ba?”
The grade schoolers were deep in thought and the murmurs grew louder and louder until one took up the courage to stand up and answer, “Hindi po. Hindi ko po kayang kainin.” “Bakit hindi?” I asked. “Um, kasi po bababa po ang tingin sa akin.” Then I continued the discussion further, “Ngayon, kung bababa ang tingin sa’yo, ano ba ang mawawala sa’yo kapag kinain mo ‘yun?” I heard several answers, like pride, self-respect, then finally they answered, “Dangal!” “Tumpak!” I exclaimed. But I did not end there. “Ano ang ibig sabihin ng dangal?” “Pride” one student said. Another said, “respeto sa sarili.” “Kalayaan mula sa pagka-alipin.” I told them, “Lahat naman iyon ay dangal. Ang aking tanong ay ano ba ang ibig sabihin nito sa’yo?” I wanted them to link their own experiences with their answer but apparently no one could. I proceeded to write the words on the board.
Dangal – halaga mo bilang isang tao.
The class was in uproar! They realized that all of them knew the answer deep down but they wondered why they could not point it out. “Halaga mo bilang isang taong nag-iisip, at may kakayanang tumayo sa iyong sarili, magpursige at ipakita na ikaw ay malaya—ito ang nawawala kapag tinanggap at kinain natin ang ensaymada ng walang pag aalinlangan.” I shared to them how in 1996, my family and I were given an opportunity through my OFW father to go to the US. I told them my dad used to urge me to get the towels, phone directories, magazines, toothbrushes from hotels we checked in because they are souvenirs! The students raised their hands high and when I called one of them, the student said, “Ako din teacher, ginagawa rin po samin yun ng parents namin.” I told them that every time we accept and just depend on dole outs, freebies, libre, free-taste, foreign aid, we lose our dignity as human beings, and we mire the dignity and freedom that our heroes fought for. That was why, I told them, two Filipinos were imprisoned from stealing two life-vests in a plane—and those two were twenty seats apart—because they thought of those life-vests as something they can get. That was why in Singapore, Filipinos are being driven away from stores.
Filipinos were imprisoned from stealing two life-vests in a plane
I felt that the class fully understood it. I showed a video that rattled them. It was a video of Sharon Cuneta, in an ad of McDonald’s, without make-up and dressed in a black t-shirt. The ad had no background music, just showing the celebrity, eyes on the ground, and with a voice-over she said, “Kung ito ang kailangan kong gawin para sa nangangailangan, kung ito lang ang paraan upang maudyok ko kayong tumulong…” she begins to kneel down, as the whole class gasp in shock. “…gagawin ko.” Then she pulls out her hand and begs on national television. One student asked, “Nakikita po yan ng mga Singaporeans?” I nodded my head in shame.
Why do we need to teach dangal? Is the Filipino race bereft of it? Some friends of mine who teach in universities would be aghast at me teaching this to our kids. “Grabe ka naman! Ano akala mo sa atin, walang dangal? Ang baba naman ng tingin mo sa ating mga Pilipino!”
What we don’t realize is that first we need to debug our slave-thinking, to learn how to be human beings again—to have goals, to work and toil to achieve these goals, to stand on our own two feet as a nation, to be taught how to dignify ourselves, to reclaim what we have lost. We can’t have our dignity back if we refuse to learn shame, the shame that Rizal felt when he saw the Igorots being displayed with the flora and fauna of the Philippines in Madrid, in 1887:
“I have worked hard against this degradation of my fellow Filipinos so that they should not be exhibited among the animals and plants!…. Let the Philippines forget that her sons have been treated like this–to be exhibited and ridiculed!”
I concluded the class by asking the question: “Ano ang pagkakaiba ng isang malayang tao at ng isang alipin? Pag mukha bang mahirap, alipin na? Pag mukha bang mayaman, malaya na?” I showed them the big difference between the two.
A slave only looks at what he can get—nanlalamang. A free man only looks at what he can give.
A slave begs. A free man extends help.
A slave doesn’t need goals because he only wants his own comfort. A free man stretches himself to achieve his goals for the sake of others.
A slave wallows in self-pity. A free man cries for the suffering of another.
A slave has shallow dreams—to have a big car, big house, big salary. A free man has big dreams because his concern is for the welfare of others he doesn’t know.
A slave has riches but has his own little world to concern with. A free man has just enough, but can dream of the rise of his nation.
“Yung dangal po namin”
The few days after, we had a breakfast potluck together with the Grade 4 students. Some have forgotten to bring their food, and just contented themselves in sitting in a corner of the room in silence. “Kain na kayo. Marami pa!” I told them. “Teacher,” the students said in a low voice, “yung dangal po namin.”
I may just be a teacher, but I dream of the day that my race, the Brown Race will truly be free, and I’m seeing that everyday in my students. That day will surely come.
~Florante
