Personal Excellence Hacker

Mr. Toastmaster, Guests, Ladies and Gentlemen-- A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops. He saw the first light of day at San Francisco, Cebu. As a boy, he was small compared to boys of his age. His burnt skin is a story of his daily habit of welcoming the day in the seashore of Camotes Island, of daily hopping in the expanse of fields of relatives where crops like peanuts and corns abound, of playing all day under the heat of the pacific sun. His hair was long and straight, so unlike today which is short and which becomes curly when it gets long. Life for Dodong is simple. He experiences a complicated life ONLY when he was listening to radio dramas Simatar and Gabi ng Lagim. Later, he would discover that life is not simply swimming in the ocean and hopping in the fields. Four old men changed his life forever. One morning, he was awakened by a kiss in the forehead. His Lolo Pedro was about to go fishing. He usually leaves before the rooster crows. The ol...

Mr. Toastmasters, everyone, good evening! It was nearing midnight, in the olden days, when that was the deadline for reciting the Breviary. The priest pulled off to the shoulder of the highway, sat on the front bumper of his car and by the light of his headlights recited his “Compline”. A truck pulled up and the driver shouted, “having trouble, buddy?” “No trouble, thanks,” the priest responded and continued his silent prayers. “All I can say,” the truck driver replied, “that must be one helluva good book.” I have already met a lot of people. Few are divine, humane, salvators, inspirational, reformers, and intellectual giants. Some are partisan if not dyed-in-a-wool bigots, anarchist, imperialists, fascists, and putchists. The rest are philosophers, theologians, revolutionaries, and teachers. I met in them pages of books my eyes set upon. Henny Penny is a hen, Henny Penny is a red hen. Ang baka ay bababa, bababa ang baka, ang baka ba ay bababa? Oo, bababa ang baka. These lines I have l...

Mr. Toastmasters, ladies and gentlemen: Good evening! Imagine yourself entering a room with more than 30 people inside. At the back of the room you see handsome twins dancing the remix of the most popular dance music. A group of five are playing game cards. A girl runs after a boy teasing her. Some others pillowed the arm of their chairs wetting it in the process. Except for a moustached guy who since you entered the room examined you from head to toe, to everyone you are invisible. You are invisible, until a paper plane landed on your shoulder. Mr toastmasters, ladies and gentlemen, It was Wednesday, October 16, 1996 when I entered that classroom—my first day day in teaching. On that day alone, so many ugly things happened from one room to another. So much to convince me that a teacher is either a fool or a martyr. Ladies and gentlemen, I will spare you from hearing the other ugly things. I am here to tell you why, after eight years, I am still a high school teacher. I have so many r...