It all began when I was asked to handle Rizal course and it dawned on me that I was not the best person for the job. Nevertheless, I accepted the assignment and proceeded to search for resource materials that I could use in teaching the course. I did not like the subject myself because, unfortunately, in my college days, when it was taught to us, all we did was summarize “Noli Me Tangere” and then prepare a short play as our final project.
I never imagined that the day would come when I would have to teach course and make a fool out of myself pretending to be an expert on Jose Rizal. (I revere him as our national hero and I admire him for his contributions in shaping the Filipino nation, as much as I respect the other heroes and heroines of our country.)
Our chairperson assigned the course to me, thinking I was some kind of a “pro” on Rizal, but he never even asked me if I would be comfortable in teaching the course. I had my reservations about discussing the ideals and contributions of Rizal with my students. I was not really an avid fan of his: I did not approve of the method he advocated for achieving our elusive independence; I was more inclined to the idea of armed struggle, and so I was Andres Bonifacio’s man through and through. But something changed as I read more and more about the life of our national hero, as told by different authors. I read Ambeth Ocampo’s “Rizal Without the Overcoat” and “Makamisa: The Search for Rizal’s Third Novel”; Leon Ma. Guerrero’s “The First Filipino”; Floro Quibuyen’s “A Nation Aborted”; and a few other books about Rizal’s life and contributions. I became obsessed with his life and works not because I was forced to but because I came to realize that I would never be able to defend my being “anti-Rizal” if I was not at peace with the other half of myself, the “pro-Rizal” in me that was beginning to emerge.
(I have to admit this: No matter how many times I re-read those books, as a teacher I feel that I will never be able to give justice to the course because I know deep in my heart, I have so many unresolved issues about our national hero.
Teaching the Rizal course to college students is quite a challenge. I know that most of my students think that the study of Rizal’s life, works and writings is pointless as they already have come across many of these in some previous history courses. And this poses a kind of obstacle for those teaching the course. That’s why you have to present his life and works as something new and exciting. So I gear away from the usual method of teaching the Rizal course. Besides, I have promised myself that I will never let my students experience the same thing that I went through in college. So I start with the theoretical foundations of the course and I go back in history—centuries back, before the birth of Rizal—in order to better understand where it all began.
I cite theories and important world and Philippine events in history and allow them to “flow” into class discussions about Rizal and as to how those events helped shape our national hero’s attitudes, knowledge and values. And I ask my students what they feel about the course.
From what I have gathered in the past, most of them would rather focus on their major courses than spend time studying Rizal. Others disliked the subject because they thought that the course on Rizal was an unnecessary additional educational expense for their family. The rest were simply not interested in Rizal’s life and in his contributions to the birthing of the Filipino nation. I was not really that surprised with their answers because a part of me felt the same.
But then again, I feel, following the example of our national hero, I should be resolute in doing what I believe is right, and I believe that no matter how the students view the subject, whether positively or negatively, it is my job to make them understand the objective of the course—which is not just to get them to know Rizal more deeply; but more importantly, to inculcate in them the spirit of nationalism and patriotism and to transform them into a real “hope of our motherland,” as Rizal saw them.
Jan Lorenzo Geonzon-Alegado, 22, is a part-time faculty member of the University of San Jose-Recoletos.