I can remember my childhood in seasons of relative deprivation. My parents were public school teachers who raised ten kids. Their income were so insignificant that we were always deep in debt.
This is why I can empathize with public school teachers who are being threatened to lose their PRC license if they cannot settle their debts to private lending institutions.
When my parents started as teachers, the income of a salary grade 11 (entry-level) public school teacher was approximately PhP 9,939 (USD 193). They stayed at SG 11 for many years until they both pursued their master’s degrees.
They were raising ten children with USD 193 per month.
When I was a kid my dad would bring me to Manila Teachers. They would give teachers some form of salary advance, and then they will get their money back via loan deductions.
I could write so much about the oppression of public school teachers in the Philippines. My parents took out loans and surrendered their own ATM cards and bank passbooks. I have seen my parents get scammed with compounding credit card interest.
I haven’t just seen it: I lived it. There were times we slept hungry because of it.
This is the part where I remind you that these teachers are not taking out a loan for a handbag or a new smartphone.
Teaching is a full-time job. It consumes our lives. We are never not thinking about teaching. We spend so many unbilled hours preparing for teaching. We use our vacations and holidays to write lesson plans, check papers, and grade students.
Teachers are overworked, leaving no opportunity for part-time work. They are astoundingly underpaid, barely enough for the basic needs of a single teacher with no dependents.
For the teaching profession that asks so much of us, you would expect it to compensate our work and sustain our lives.
And when it doesn’t, predatory lending companies circle us, smelling our poverty and our desperation.
You know why I am angry? I am a PRC-licensed high school teacher, too. Despite a double degree in Literature and Education, I cannot practice my profession. It simply is not enough for my needs, never mind the family I am building.
How do you raise a family with dignity when your dignified profession is barely keeping you afloat?
How well can teachers do their job when their family is starving? How much faith in the education system do they have when they have to take out loans for their own children’s tuition?
There must be a better way to keep teachers afloat than debt.
If the government can’t give teachers better compensation, they should have more laws protecting teachers from these private lending institutions.
We should have financial management courses for teachers — not only for the day-to-day expenses but also preparing for retirement. There are too many retired and broke teachers in the Philippines.
The government should have policies and institutions providing financial bailouts for bankrupt teachers.
A metaphor: teachers are microorganisms that fertilize the soil. If the soil is fertile, the crops are good.
Teachers do more than give homework to your snotty, Instagram-obsessed children. The standard of education teachers uphold decides the employability of the next generation. They uphold the values that make us Filipinos. They teach your children history, culture, civics, law — things that you may not teach them because you’re busy providing for them.
When teachers fail at life, they will fail at their job. Whatever will happen to your children?
Jail the sharks.
In two months, I’m getting married.
It scares me. The fiancé told me that I have been grinding my teeth in my sleep. I have recurring anxiety dreams. Ghosts visit me. I was pushing a grocery cart along an aisle and I heard a voice whisper my name — I was alone.
I am a feminist. I have never envisioned getting married. Yet here I am, planning my own wedding.
I have spent the past two years in silence trying to reconcile the contradictions between by former identity and the person I am becoming.
A friend suggested therapy. We plan to go through marriage counseling. I am making peace that there are some things about marriage that mystify me.
So I decided to write about it, because writing is the way I make sense of the unknown.
Here are some of the things I have been grappling with:
Claude Levi-Strauss says that marriage was the institution that started the subordination of women:
”The total relationship of exchange which constitutes marriage is not established between a man and a woman . . . but between two groups of men, and the woman figures only as one of the objects in the exchange, not as one of the partners . . . This remains true even when the girl’s feelings are taken into consideration, as, moreover, is usually the case. In acquiescing to the proposed union, she precipitates or allows the exchange to take place; she cannot alter its nature.”
– Levi Strauss in Lerner, “The Creation of Patriarchy”
In history, the institution of marriage enabled the “reification” of women”: they were de-humanized (as in, traded for material goods, military alliances, etc.) and objectified.
While we can argue that the marital dynamic has vastly changed over thousands of years, there is still a lot of inequality when it comes to marriage.
Most of the inequality comes from the economic factor, but it can also touch on career and individual insecurities. For twenty-first century women, we are pressured not only to have great careers but also to be Pinterest-perfect wives, mothers, and home-makers.
Gerda Lerner, the pioneer of women’s history and author of “The Creation of Patriarchy”, was also a stay-at-home mom until her youngest child was 16.
Here’s her take on the contradiction between feminism and family life:
“I stayed home until my youngest child was 16 years old. I was a full-time mother. I have always felt that feminists have to understand more about that experience. Whenever you want to make any change in the community, from getting a stoplight at a school crossing to putting in a park, the people who make the change are your stay-at-home housewives all over the country, all over the world.”
(To be continued…)
“If I wanted to find meaning again, I had to stop using the chronicles of my past to inform the future.”
– Leandra Medine, Monocycle ep. 58