When I
received word from my colleague, Ms. Heidi Padua, asking if I were willing to
be a part of LASSO (Lasallian Schools Supervision Organization), I just gave
her a casual nod and a perfunctory wink, as I am wont to do thinking
that was cute, but not knowing what I have gotten myself into, again.
Then as it really sank in, I said to myself, why not? I can squeeze one more
assignment now that I am a little lax with my time. This was not possible
several years ago. Not only was I a teacher and consequently an
administrator, a weekend artist who has to paint and write if only for my own
fulfillment, but most of all, I am also a husband and a father to four
growing teenagers with raging hormones. My children have all graduated now and
have joined the work force as working class heroes finding their own
niche. So, yes, I do have some extra time. It was then that I
received a call from no less than the Luzon Superintendent verifying from me if
I did give my nod. He gave me the name of the school I was to supervise and the
name San Francisco stuck in my head. “California? I was hoping you’d say
USA,” I jested.
I attended the first Supervisor’s meeting on July 16, wearing an
enthusiastic smile with my school uniform. Not knowing what to expect, I
eagerly listened to what transpired during the meeting, making sense of what
was going on and amazed that I was a part of that august body.
I had several qualms during my first visit at Nasugbu. Nobody knew me
from Adam as much as I did not know anyone from there. All I knew was
that the people running the school were a nun and a priest. A nun for
heaven’s sake! I have grown up with them during grammar school. I
have good memories of them but perceiving them as the “authorities.” That
somehow made me feel a tad uncomfortable knowing that I should always be at my
best behavior or “I will hear from the Mother Superior!”
So, how does one start?
Neither had there been an official endorsement coming from LASSO nor was there
a turnover ceremony, albeit unceremonious but quite reassuring
nonetheless. So, armed with nothing but again what I perceive to be a
charming smile and hopefully a pleasing personality, I introduced myself as the
one replacing the former supervisor. No, I was not asked for my
credentials as I feared I would be. Instead, I was welcomed wholeheartedly
and pleasantly, I might add, by the people in charge. We talked like
comrades-in-arms who have not seen each other for a long time. Smile turned
to laughter and I was warming up. I nonchalantly interviewed them, asked
them what transpired during the month and what their plans were for the coming
weeks. We had lunch and a few hours thereafter, I was on my way with pasalubong in
tow. It was then that I knew, this endeavour will be
pleasurable and I will be looking forward to my monthly visits.
The school is very simple, rural and, to a point, nondescript to someone who
looks for the intricate operations of a big school. It does
not know the hassles of bureaucracy that sometimes even stands in the way of
progress. It is run like how a mother runs her home. She asks her
children to help clean the furniture, sweep the floor, feed the cat and other
mundane chores while she attends to the more important matters. The
school may be small for now but it has the entire community under its
wings. Parents help care for the school as much as the personnel do, for
after all, it is where their children learn the intricacies of life. It
is quiet, its air fresh, surrounded by billowing clouds and vast land that
hides in fear from neither the sun nor moon. Looking at the
surroundings and the people with their unabashed, sincere smiles, I know that I
am home.
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