WHY THE TEACHER DIED AT CHRISTMAS?

It was the day of the Christmas program, and Teacher Helen was not feeling well at all.
Teacher Helen had been teaching English at the same school for twenty years. She was
forty years old and forty is supposed to be a very good age to be for any teacher. That
means a teacher would have enriched many, many lives.
Still, Teacher Helen was very unhappy, having grown increasingly disappointed with her
efforts at teaching English in the last five years.
Even if she doubled her efforts at explaining the rules of subject and verb agreement,
she still got sentences that read: The poem are about, or, I think and felt or, Rizal and
her writing; and even if the only strategy she hadnt used was to dance the tango to
induce her students to read, she ultimately got reactions like, Teacher? Did I like
Kipling? Duh, I dunno, I never kippled before. Is that like bungee jumping?
An act in a vaudeville joke with sly reference to the classic writer Rudyard Kipling.

Or worse, Shakespeare? Is he the new guy with the X-men? The one with the vibrating
laser beam?
Teacher Helen couldnt figure it out very well, could not say where exactly the problem
lay. Although her students only spoke smatterings of English they seemed to
understand much of it; specially films, or the NBA
games. And they correctly pronounced all the signature brands of clothes and colognes.
They also liked to celebrate the American festivals like Valentines and
Halloween
. Her students used English mostly to express their thoughts and feelings on those
days, even though their efforts left something to be desired:
I Labs Ya. Dya Labs Me 2? Or better, Will ya be may Balentine? Ur cool!
At Halloween they told her of their adventures. Mum! We went to trek and tret.
In the gentlest manner she would say, Oh, Trick or Treat! How wonderful. And Jund,
thats Mam. Maaam. Mum used to be an underarm deodorant.
Teacher Helen also thought that she didnt want to teach speech anymore, for it began
to feel like The Mother of All Jawbreakers. To try to help students distinguish between
the P and the F, B and the V, and the soft and hard TH, and worse diphthongs, seemed
Teacher Helen to need several lifetimes to accomplish.
informal
a word that is very long or hard to pronounce

To make matters even worse, her colleagues werent much help.

Just the day before, during their faculty meeting, Teacher Helen had to suffer through
the entire two hours of English use being systematically slaughtered by the subject area
coordinators.
Lets go to the ballroom dancing! No, Ive got to go to the house early. Its my babys
check in the pedja. You know por da awting lets go to the bitch in Nasugbu.
To ensure her sanity by the end of the meeting, she formulated some learning
objectives. Silently, of course.
O-ke, o-ke, the principal said. Tomorrows our program. Is the chairs there prom the
delivery?
(to distinguish P and F sounds)
Yes Mum.
The Science people, hows the exhibits
(must always agree in number)
O-ki Mum. Biri Creetib Mum. P-6 and Kim ar tim is Science, Da Stap of Lipe and Libing.
(must be able to clearly pronounce English sounds)
Whatabout Math?Good Mum. We Mutt people are riddi. Da grid tu will sing about the
Aso-syatib and Comyo-tatib to da song of Chisnut Roosting on da Open Payr.
(must speak English)
Art and Music?Da kids will sing Samsungs and dance the dances.
(must not smirk)
Da buckdrop is pinis, and light epecks we check olreydi.
(must not puke on the table)
Last year one payrents complain of the warmth so pliss, check the ercon.
(must grit my teeth)
What about Ingliss? Titser Helen?

(must not five in to urge to reply, I tits my class)

All the grade five sections will recite The Night Before Christmas.
(must practice Christian values of humility, honesty, perseverance)
The meeting ended soon after that, and Teacher Helen was very relieved to have
survived it.But this morning, when she awoke from a very bad dream in which she was
banished to hell, tied to a chair and made to listen to Jimmy Santos, she told herself
maybe it was time to shift professions.
Insurance maybe? Or real estate?
Maybe she should shift languages.
No, no, no she told herself. How could I think of that at this time of the year, when
Christmas carols are in the air, and everyone, yes, everyone still greeted each other,
Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
Maybe I should relent and allow fragmented language in class.
But I cant give up now! Its my lifes work!
These were her thoughts as she trudged up the steps to the hospital entrance.
Merry Christmas! The receptionist at the medical specialists center greeted her.
Oh, and Merry Christmas to you to, my dear, she replied. She was so relieved that the
sounds were correct.
Do you have an appointment? The receptionist asked.
Im sorry but I dont, Teacher Helen answered with a smile, and a feeling almost vibrant.
Come again? The lady asked. At that moment the phone ran. Excuse me please, the
receptionist said as she answered.
No, Im sorry, the doctor wont be in for another hour. Shall I give him your message?
Yes, Ive got that. Thank you for calling, have a nice day, and Merry Christmas.
There is a God, Teacher Helen thought as she relished the words she had just heard.
Suddenly curious about the rarity of the person, she decided to chat a little bit.
You know, youre so familiar. Which school did you attend?
Laughter.
You mean which school did I teach at. I was an English teacher before I quit to work

here.
Oh. May I ask why?
I finally realized that trying toe teach English was being Sisyphus, a hopeless, uphill
going nowhere job.
And so you quit.
Wisest thing I ever did in my life.
Yes. Of course
Some of my friends have better paying jobs abroad. DH-Tutors. Have their own houses.
Teacher Helen didnt feel as good as she did a while ago. She fell into deep thought,
interrupted at last by her physician who arrived, hounded by a large group of medical
reps waving Christmas packages.
Merry Christmas, Helen, not feeling well this season?
Teacher Helen seemed far away, managing a wan reply. Can you believe this?
She whispered, a little lost.
An hour later, Teacher Helen was still there, as the waiting room emptied of the other
patients.
It might have been pleasant waiting all together had not the receptionist asked one
patient, Have you been x-rayed?
No, was the patients quick reply. I was ultra-violated.
Teacher Helen shot a glance at the patient, then locked gaze with the receptionist. Like
a trouper that she was, the receptionist ignored the mistake and kept silent.
And like the teacher that she still was, Teacher Helen was about to speak in correction.
At the last moment though, she too kept silent.
At that moment another receptionist came over from the kidney doctors clinic.
Hey, did you hear about the baby our next door pedia lost this morning?
No, what happened? Sepsis. Infected ambivalent cord.
Teacher Helen staggered to her feet, feeling like she had been shot.

Mam? Are you leaving? Youre next.

Really? Thanks so much. So Teacher Helen returned to her seat.
We have this Christmas program Id like to catch, you see.
Her doctor said it was stress, thats all. That the chest pains were imagined. That she
was taking her job too seriously. That perhaps she should extend her Christmas
vacation well into January.
She promised to consider it, and was actually preparing a little speech in her head as
she walked into the school auditorium filled with clapping parents and costumed
children.
Her principal was glaring at her, but Teacher Helen came right up to her assigned seat
on the front row, together with the other members of the faculty and did not notice how
late she was.
Soon, amidst the rasping minus one tape of Christmas songs, the curtains opened to
reveal the extravaganza of the day, the Music teachers opus.
Prancing children dressed like elves held boughs and boughs of what looked like plastic
leaves. They danced about the stage during the taped intro then stood still at their
designated places to burst into their much practiced chorus:
Dick da holes with bosso Polly, Pa la la la la la la la la!
Isdasison to Jollibee. Pa la la la la la la la la!
Dochano da gay apartelle, Pa la la la la la la la la!
A blinding, white light. A great force upon her head.
Teacher Helen was puzzled. Did the stage collapse? Why were there so many people
all of a sudden? And why were they screaming and hovering above her?
She heard the Science teacher say, Titser Helen, Titser Helen, ded you paint?
Then the Math Teacher said, Wooter pliss, someone git wooter!
Lay down, Lay down, the Principal was directing.
But just then, Teacher Helen no longer cared, and was thinking, you all make me
funny
.
She died with a smile on her face.

posted by januar @ 4:56 AM

14 Comments:
At 1:54 AM,
heavenleigh said...
Inspiring
? Touching? Well.. I really don't have any idea... Did i read it? or i was only laughing?
Where in the world did that story came from?
At 11:19 PM,
ako_si_joni said...
it seems to me that while the people kept on speaking english incorrectly the teacher was
dying slowly... hehe it was as if her life was somehow connected to the language... like
the more the people murdered the language the weaker she got.. hehe
merry christmas....
cheers!!!
At 2:38 AM,

emmarithbalili said...

hahahaaha! naglabad ako ulo sigeg katawa...hahahaha... somehow, it seems to imply that
teacher Helen is in a society where the people that surrounds her were not capable of
adopting and speaking the English language very well. And she cannot accept the fact
that they cannot unlike her..something like she wants to control them but she can't. Siya
ray nag.patay sa iyang self hinoon by thinking and worrying about it desperately..naa ba
koy point? what do you think? i am open to comments and suggestions..thank you. :)
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year Sir Januar and to all!!
At 3:19 AM,

jona 'jooh' said...

hahahaha... i read this somewhere in sunstar.. in its weekend magazine...

jeez, good for you to post it in here.. ay tagasunstar ka nga pala...
jona
At 5:49 PM,

januar said...

hehe hope i'll get to hear from my phil lit. classes, too. was supposed to let them read this
before the christmas break, but the events took over, damn!--Sir Janrax ;-)
At 5:53 PM,

januar said...

just a little reminder while we're enjoying the story. while we laugh at our ways with the
english language, let's not forget that it doesn't define or measure our intelligence. just
because you can't mimic the twang doesn't mean you're less brainy than those who can.
okeydokey?--Sir Januar
At 6:50 AM,

jona 'jooh' said...

emmang,
you wantsome comments? jeez, you're english is improving... keep it up...
merry christmas emmang...
At 10:10 PM,

emmarithbalili said...

hey jona!
merry christmas! :) thanks jona. i really appreciate it..:) but will you please call me
EMMARITH? i don't want to be called emmang. i'm not old yet...hehe... ok? thanks! b
safe.
hello Sir!
merry christmas!! i agree with your point.. by the way, do we have a test next year? hope
wala...hehe :) b safe.
At 2:54 AM,

ino-chan said...

funny? the teacher was taking it too seriously...Or should we do the same thing? I
wonder...would i suffer like her, too, when i become a teacher? no one knows...anyway,
it's inspiring. It's giving me the cue... i should do well my part as a student.
happy christmas...merry new year!
At 3:00 AM,

ino-chan said...

emmarith,
you don't know me, do you? i guess this is a good time to make friends.
you do have a point. we have the same idea..hehe
happy christmas!
p.s. just let jooh be...it's christmas anyway...hehe
At 4:58 AM,

emmarithbalili said...

hi ino_chan..
thanks! i really have no idea who you are.. may i know you? hehehe, kasab-an jud ta ani
ni sir... by the way, wen ato klas?
thanks agen...ai, "again" kay english majors man kuno ta...hehehe....
happy birthday!
happy new year !
At 7:05 PM,

januar said...

emmang! kasab-an ni sir? ngano gud. i'm the type who survives christmas hehe
At 8:00 AM,

kahmeel maldita said...

thank you so much for being our teacher in literature for the second semester of our first
year in college... hehehe.... the journey that we had with you was indeed fun and
memorable... God bless you always sir...
At 3:28 PM,

frued jued said...

ay si rara... :)
kabaw na na's sir.
hehe.
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"A teacher, most of all, is human."

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