In Inez Ponce de Leon’s article “Dismissals and frustrations” (Question The Box, 7/3/24), I was pleased to read about how she once apologized to her former student who turned out to be right in their argument about the latter’s thesis. It is refreshing to know that someone as scholarly and learned as Miss Ponce de Leon possesses humility, which unfortunately countless others in positions of authority and/or power do not have.
Her piece reminded me of my practice-teaching year at the University of Santo Tomas (UST) . As fourth-year secondary education students, my fellow English majors and I were advised by our excellent supervising teacher, professor Camilla Vizconde, that if a student asked us a question to which we did not know the answer, we should not pretend otherwise, lest we end up giving a bluff response. Instead, we could say something along the lines of “I will look into that and we’ll discuss it next time” and not a flat-out and noncommittal “I don’t know.” I did not give that piece of advice much thought even as we started practice teaching; I only started to appreciate it when I was already teaching professionally at Jose Abad Santos Memorial School-Quezon City two years later.
Someone who did need to hear (and heed) professor Vizconde’s advice was another professor, who, a year or two earlier, pretended to (kind of) know the answer to my bluff question. In his class, I naughtily asked him, “Sir, are you familiar with the renowned author Harriet Pateros who graduated from the UST College of Education?” I knew of no such person. That name—or “nickname”—was something a few of my classmates and I secretly called another classmate who talked obsessively about the first “Harry Potter” book which had just been released at the time. Without missing a beat, Sir answered, “Aahhh, that name does sound familiar. I think I’ve heard of her.” My classmates and I were discreetly snickering in our seats.
This brings me to my observation of how some politicians and public servants sound as if they know it all when they speak to the public, making all sorts of bombastic and fantastic promises that sadly never come to fruition. That’s why much as I try not to be cynical, I sometimes see the election season (from the barangay to the national levels) as nothing more than a public speaking spectacle among those running for office. But I try to drive off this occasional cynicism that creeps up on me, choosing to believe that there are still elected officials out there who serve their constituents sincerely.
What I really want to say here is why not resort to a different tack? Instead of giving off the image of knowing anything and everything, how about being genuinely more interested in seeking to know—about the problems in your community, society, and the country at large; the welfare of the people around you; the best way to uplift the underprivileged and under-represented? Then from knowing about these and more, do what ought to be done—with compassion and common sense—to change things for the better in your sphere of influence.
Many of our leaders and public servants have been grandstanding more than enough times already. Stop. Try asking and listening, for a change. Doing so will help you know where your priorities should lie.
Claude Lucas C. Despabiladeras,
claudelucasdespa@gmail.com