CLASS RECORD: When students remember PDF Print E-mail
Friday, 06 June 2014 11:26

BY Christine Y. Guinacaran


How the students can remember me, long after I have become their adviser, is a puzzlement to me.  Here’s what I mean:

I was having my lunch outside the school campus when my co-teacher called up to say that there was a certain Mike waiting for me for almost an hour already. “ What does he want?” I asked. “He said, he will just tell you when you come.” So I swallowed my lunch hurriedly, and rushed to school.  It took some great reviewing skills on his part, to make me remember that he was the president in my first year high school class many years ago.

His intention was to borrow three hundred pesos from me, to process his papers for employment.  Imagine that, after all those years, and not even seeing him, for like fifteen years or so, he really went out of his way to look for his adviser of long ago, just so he could have this amount!  Now, don’t even try to ask if I lent him or not, because I will not tell you.

There was also this student who was already having self-pity because he presumed that I no longer remember him.  It happened when my sister and her husband went to the mechanic to fix their car.  When she came home, she asked me if I knew Obet San Juan (not his real name).  According to this boy, I was his favorite teacher in high school and he hoped that I still remembered him.  When my sister said that she would mention him to me, he replied sadly that he was sure that I no longer remember him. But honestly, I remember an Obet San Juan who was chubby, fair in complexion  and good looking.  Maybe that’s him already.

Another girl student of many years ago, when City High was still in Pettit Barracks, sent me a private message in my Facebook, asking if I still remember her.  So I browsed over her photos in FB before replying.  After my research, I was able to have a faintmemory of her.  So I replied confidently that of course I remember her clearly, which at that time, I thought I really did.  “Youwere my student in third year”.  “No ma’am, you were my  first year adviser” with sad face emoticon.

One adviser of several years, pleaded with his friends to get me at home to visit him in the hospital.  I am not exaggerating when I say pleaded, because the friends who went to me, fairly begged me to go with them, because their poor friend Herbert,would be extremely disappointed they did not bring me along. So I went to the hospital, and realized how much my presence meant to them, when Herbert cried, the mother cried and so with the auntie when they saw me.

As the farmers are to veterinary surgeon,James Herriot, students to me, are also the salt of the earth!