tuesdays with kim
the joys of teaching ACCOUNTING to intelligent little brats like us, eh? yeah..
the semester is over...and so is our every TUESDAYS with morrie, rather, SIR KIM. all those unfathomed accounting problems and heart pounding exams were now part of history. no more horror stories and green jokes, no more coup de etat plots, no more black shirt days that actually didnt happen, no more 'waiting in vain' for sir kim to arrive, no more heart-to-heart talks of hatred and anger, no more agonizing weather, no more homeworks undone, no more copying of homeworks, no more shower of stars (be it superstar, megastar, or starlet), no more kidnap story, no more laughs over mispronounced words due to language differences, no more "yes darcis", no more 5minute breaks that actually lasts for about 30 minutes, no more PNACs, no more ILACs, and for me, no more room reservations and text brigades.
i am the class president. or i should say, i was.
this morning as i was going through the newspaper, i saw this one familiar name printed as the young blood article writer. Kim Boysie Enage, my former accounting professor. in his masterpiece, he recalls the odds and joys of being a mentor.
and here i am, reminiscing the odds and joys of having him as my/our instructor.
june 22. first class meeting, he asked us to draw in a scratch paper a timeline, our lives' timeline, and within those spaces, we scribed what we WANT to happen, be it a simple dream or an outrageous one. after a while, we passed the paper and sir kim, recited the writings annonimously. somebody dreamed to become FHM's covergirl and get married at the age of 21 at the same time. the whole class laughed at the idea. who the hell in her sanity would actually wish that knowing that others would dream of becoming successful hotel managers and restaurant owners. yeah, i know it was funny, but hey, it was mine.
days passed and so our agony over unsolved mysteries of accounting continued. hatred developed and an underground revolutionary organization was formed. pnac... "paksyet na accounting class"...composed of primarily the 'left front seaters' who'd rather spend 30 minutes eating outside than listening to sir kim. pardon to beauty and to everyone else that comprised the so-called 'cult'.
midterm exam. i passed. and so is half of the class. 'swerte' as i'd want to call the mystery behind my passing. i barely had time to study for the exam. and so, when the results were announced, i was shocked, as i would have been seeing a ghost. and since i was a member of the PNAC, the 'cult' had to forfeit my priviledges.
one gloomy day. a number agreed on a resolution...to oust sir kim as our instructor. and on that fateful day, he talked to us. he was calm but tension and anger was obvious in his eyes. we were over the limits. though we did not accept the fact, we submit to his heartbreaking speech. it was no nonsense. it inspired us to do better, rather i say, i was inspired to do best.
and i countinued learning.
last day. final exam. everyone, except a two or three, passed. he thanked us. he thanked me.
silly as i would think of it, i wish i could go back five months ago, to the very first day we met. i would write in my paper what i really long for, what i want to achieve, and that is to be like sir kim, to inspire intelligent little brats like us to do better, to do best in a battle with no sword to fight with, just our hearts and brains that will lead to the victory everyone aspire.
i had not only found an instructor, i had found a foe, a friend.
written november 6, 2004
the semester is over...and so is our every TUESDAYS with morrie, rather, SIR KIM. all those unfathomed accounting problems and heart pounding exams were now part of history. no more horror stories and green jokes, no more coup de etat plots, no more black shirt days that actually didnt happen, no more 'waiting in vain' for sir kim to arrive, no more heart-to-heart talks of hatred and anger, no more agonizing weather, no more homeworks undone, no more copying of homeworks, no more shower of stars (be it superstar, megastar, or starlet), no more kidnap story, no more laughs over mispronounced words due to language differences, no more "yes darcis", no more 5minute breaks that actually lasts for about 30 minutes, no more PNACs, no more ILACs, and for me, no more room reservations and text brigades.
i am the class president. or i should say, i was.
this morning as i was going through the newspaper, i saw this one familiar name printed as the young blood article writer. Kim Boysie Enage, my former accounting professor. in his masterpiece, he recalls the odds and joys of being a mentor.
and here i am, reminiscing the odds and joys of having him as my/our instructor.
june 22. first class meeting, he asked us to draw in a scratch paper a timeline, our lives' timeline, and within those spaces, we scribed what we WANT to happen, be it a simple dream or an outrageous one. after a while, we passed the paper and sir kim, recited the writings annonimously. somebody dreamed to become FHM's covergirl and get married at the age of 21 at the same time. the whole class laughed at the idea. who the hell in her sanity would actually wish that knowing that others would dream of becoming successful hotel managers and restaurant owners. yeah, i know it was funny, but hey, it was mine.
days passed and so our agony over unsolved mysteries of accounting continued. hatred developed and an underground revolutionary organization was formed. pnac... "paksyet na accounting class"...composed of primarily the 'left front seaters' who'd rather spend 30 minutes eating outside than listening to sir kim. pardon to beauty and to everyone else that comprised the so-called 'cult'.
midterm exam. i passed. and so is half of the class. 'swerte' as i'd want to call the mystery behind my passing. i barely had time to study for the exam. and so, when the results were announced, i was shocked, as i would have been seeing a ghost. and since i was a member of the PNAC, the 'cult' had to forfeit my priviledges.
one gloomy day. a number agreed on a resolution...to oust sir kim as our instructor. and on that fateful day, he talked to us. he was calm but tension and anger was obvious in his eyes. we were over the limits. though we did not accept the fact, we submit to his heartbreaking speech. it was no nonsense. it inspired us to do better, rather i say, i was inspired to do best.
and i countinued learning.
last day. final exam. everyone, except a two or three, passed. he thanked us. he thanked me.
silly as i would think of it, i wish i could go back five months ago, to the very first day we met. i would write in my paper what i really long for, what i want to achieve, and that is to be like sir kim, to inspire intelligent little brats like us to do better, to do best in a battle with no sword to fight with, just our hearts and brains that will lead to the victory everyone aspire.
i had not only found an instructor, i had found a foe, a friend.
written november 6, 2004
clock strikes_ 8:44:00 PM
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