Moving JASMS-QC
As I’ve told a few coteachers and students in recent weeks, I have not felt deeply sentimental (yet) over the transfer of Jose Abad Santos Memorial School (JASMS) from the Edsa/West Triangle campus (which was its home since it opened in 1958) to its new site on not-so-far-away Congressional Avenue. I thought it would happen last May 30, during the few hours that I was packing my stuff at the faculty room all by my lonesome. It didn’t happen, although I have to admit that, yeah, there was this slight feeling of sadness within me as I was emptying my table, carefully deciding what (and how much) to take home and leave behind (mostly extra copies of printed quizzes and test papers, and playbills of my students’ productions these past two years). No tears were shed that afternoon, just an enormous amount of sweat, as usual.
Since summer vacation kicked off in April, I’ve been waiting for that feeling of profound grief to consume me. Actually, I know why I haven’t reached that point: It’s the fact that this change is so overwhelming for all of us in school that I think it would be counterproductive to let sentimentality take over (for now). Disclaimer: I don’t mean to say that my way of dealing with all this is the correct way. This is about me and my (non-)feelings. I don’t speak for anyone else.
The thing is, however, a voice in my head is bugging me to feel mournful. JASMS, after all, is not only my workplace but my elementary and high school alma mater, too. For personal reasons (which a few people really close to me will understand), this school has meant so many things to me since I began teaching here in 2004: It has been my sanctuary, my crutch, my defense, my excuse, my scapegoat, my therapy, my stimulant, my haven, my added pogi points, my philanthropy, my team, my other family, etc. The longer I stay here teaching English to seventh graders year after year, the more it’s becoming significant in my life.
During my own student days from first grade to high school (1988-1999), I was unaware and unmindful of JASMS’ reputation. It was only in my senior high year that I understood its value as an academic institution. While filling out a college application form, I asked my dad why he and my mom enrolled me and my two brothers here and not at other “more popular schools.” In a nutshell, he said that they believed (and still do) in its nontraditional approach and ideals—encouraging a child’s artistic/creative expression and individuality, freedom with responsibility, learning by doing, all-inclusiveness and acceptance of kids with special needs, acknowledging and respecting each child’s learning pace, etc. Five years later, returning to JASMS as a teacher with a degree in secondary education from the University of Santo Tomas, I became more appreciative of what this school stands for. And this appreciation grows continuously through time as I meet and teach more diverse learners.
For us teachers and our principal, Diana Gutierrez (herself a JASMS alum), what’s been most worrisome about this relocation is the likelihood that many of our kids will leave. True enough, in the past few weeks a number of “Jasmites” have relayed to me on Facebook that their parents enrolled them elsewhere. Amid the ongoing construction and refurbishing of the five-story building that will be JASMS’ new home, they doubt that we’d be ready to operate on Aug. 14, the announced date of our school opening. As for other parents who also pulled their children out, they think that the new location is quite far from their respective homes. (At this point, regardless of your reasons for leaving, Jose, Serio, Carmelo, Louisa, et al., we will really miss you.)
Proximity is a valid concern, I know. Even I was unsure about continuing my teaching gig next school year. What sealed the deal for me to stick around was when I passed by the building with my friends a few weeks ago at 2 a.m. after a chillax session. Lo and behold, it’s actually quite near my home in San Francisco del Monte; I can just ride a tricycle to Muñoz market, then walk for five minutes or so from Edsa and I’m there! It was then that my optimism level rose.
At about the same time, Ms. Diana’s secretary, RJ Dato, started posting on the JASMS Facebook page every few days or so pictures of the ongoing construction at that building. The steady progress is visible, resulting in positive responses from parents. And among us teachers, there was an obvious cheeriness pervading our conversations as updates from the new site came regularly. Plus, there will be no mass exodus of teachers resulting from all of this (which some feared). Except for two who have said adieu, we’re mostly intact.
As one teacher declared, JASMS will not cease to exist just because we have left its original campus. All of us—the faculty, the principal, the owners (the Benitez family), the students, the parents, the nonteaching staff, the alumni—can and will keep it alive in our new home. The much-publicized legal tiff between Philippine Women’s University (JASMS’ mother university) and that business entity had been a dark cloud hovering over us on the Edsa/West Triangle campus these past several years; it’s best to just be totally rid of it at long last in a new place (though smaller) we can completely call our own.
On that note, I express my sincerest thanks and congratulations to our university president, Dr. Francisco Benitez, for fulfilling his promise to us last year of finding us a new home in the face of enormous pressure from all fronts and aggressive opposition from a certain group of people. Much respect to you, Sir Kiko.
So, yes, over at that five-story building on Congressional Avenue, JASMS-QC will carry on. And deep within me, optimism trounces sentimentality.
Here’s looking forward to a new beginning and a continuation on Aug. 14.
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Claude Lucas C. Despabiladeras teaches English at JASMS-QC and does voiceover work for TV and radio commercials and English-dubbed TV soap operas.
