A Different Kind of Teacher: Making History Come Alive with His Story

As a teen, history was a difficult subject to me that I detested having to take any semblance of it when I went back to school at 50.  My past history subjects were laden with mindless memorizations of people, places, and dates which I kept in my short term memory just to pass. Despite my aversion for history, there was no way I could avoid EDUC 100 or Philippine Educational System to complete my 18 units for a Certificate in Professional Education (CPE).

I just turned 50 when I met Sir Buhay Alonzo in November 2009.  My friends and I took the subject without any knowledge of who the teacher would be since the subject roster listed the professor’s name as “TBA” (or To Be Announced).  On the first day of classes, a light framed elderly man entered our classroom and asked “Who’s your teacher?” – to which a classmate said “TBA po”. “ Oh, this is my class”, the man replied as he proceeded to the teacher’s table and introduced himself.  “Ako ay si Teacher Buhay Alonzo, TBA.”  As customary, he asked us to introduce ourselves, talked about his course requirements, and started recounting his student days at UP lengthily, till the whole class session was used up.

I psyched my self to learn to love history from that very first day to reduce my anxieties during the semester. Upon reaching home, I told my husband about Sir Buhay and providentially, my husband knew him. He has been my husband’s teacher at the UP Prep High in the early seventies.  When I mentioned about this to him next class meeting, he said I was lucky to have married my husband since all Prepians are good just like their teacher.  He emphasized though, “I was a fresh graduate when I taught them. Don’t think I’m already very old.  Kayang-kaya ko pang isayaw lahat ng mga dilag sa klaseng ito ng walang kahingal-hingal.”

Attendance in his class was recorded in a pad paper. He remembered who were late or absent the previous day since he called on them to say that someone missed them in class.  I was stunned but glad at the way Sir Buhay conducted his classes sans a course outline, free flowing discussions, surprise intermissions; the daily newspaper as a starter, and his endless love and life stories to spice the class.  Some found his teaching style odd.  But many faithfully attended and even looked forward to classes with him; since being absent meant forfeiting a chance to learn an unknown side of Philippine history, to win the grand lotto or to just feel different.  I belonged to the latter group.  I looked forward to my EDUC 100 class as the days passed by.

Sir Buhay’s unconventional way of teaching, class management style, innate disposition and casual ways of relating with his students – became, for me, not just acceptable but worth emulating in many ways.

Looking back, I’ve retained little of the historical facts I learned on the Philippine educational system, the rationale and content of different curriculum, and education-related laws passed.  But, Sir Buhay’s EDUC 100 class left me with a lot of memories which has at times served as springboard for ideas now that I am a teacher.  And how did Sir Buhay teach?

1.         By being natural, just himself, authentic.

He did not talk much about others’ lives, except for our heroes.  He used his personal experiences during different time periods and related these to education issues of the times.  He talked about his frustrations as a teacher at UP and the challenges he had to face as a teacher-head of the family. He spoke about walking to school and just having “moonay” for snacks while school kids nowadays like his grandkids have him for a grand dad-driver. He said he adapted to his foreign-fathered grandchildren’s English language needs and had to relax his “Filipino only” mentality, like the old generation sacrificing for the new one.  He vividly narrated his mountain hikes in Quezon and encouraged us to go nature tripping and see the beauty of our countryside.  His love story with Ross, his wife and only love, was a lesson in itself about how to find the right one.

Injecting his Buhay stories to relatively boring history lessons created a lively learning environment conducive to learning history (especially to me).

2.   By creatively bringing me closer to present realities and enabling me to appreciate the Filipino’s glorious past

If not for Sir Buhay, I wouldn’t have dared watched naked men in the UP Oblation Run and would have missed one of UP’s hottest events nor would I have been as active with the UP Centennial activities nor would I have enjoyed the colors of Christmas at the UP Lantern Parade.  He required us to join these UP events or else, we’d be left out in discussions and suffer a “consequence” to be tendered in class.

Each class day, he’d have a student read a news clip about big issues (which he expected us to be aware of) on education, the economy, and the environment.  I have never been as abreast with local and global news as during my semester with him.  He was so updated with going ons and wanted us to be likewise – such that when the Super Lotto’s pot reached almost P 60 million, he asked me to collect P 5 per student in class (and make a collective lotto bet) so that everyone could experience the common Filipino’s thrill of waiting for lotto results.  I wished we would have won (but we lost) because that meant having extra personal money and a big class fund for charities.

One day, he brought several old books and gave them out to the first students with hands raised in the air. Wanting to share a useful tip to him, I offered to buy him books at ebay online.  He begged off saying, “Have you been to Recto super bookstore?  Hija, go there.  For the same budget, you can already bring home not a book but a pile of books.”

Just like highly effective teachers, Sir Buhay wears different hats.  He became our tour guide to the art museums in the Intramuros areas.  Though the class had to walk under the heat of the sun from one building to another, it was  educationally fun.  I’ve been to all these art galleries several times in the past with ASEAN friends and balikbayan relatives but I have never paid close attention to the paintings and artifacts displayed.  Perhaps, it was Sir Buhay’s programming of our minds – that the Filipino has been world-class centuries ago – that allowed me to see Filipino visual art masterpieces in a different light.

Doing all these things for a class in EDUC 100 seemed far off and inappropriate to some students. For me, these were not. These seemingly irrelevant activities enabled me to appreciate and understand the past and savor the present in its entirety.

3.         By making me see another perspective of Philippine history.

Sir Buhay had rich factual knowledge and insights on Philippine history, education, economics, and politics.  He caught the class’ interest by sharing vignettes of our national heroes and their lady loves – with much gusto and sensationalism characteristic of popular TV star gossip shows.  (On the sidelights, he played matchmaker to two of our classmates who seemed to be coming in late or were absent almost at the same times.)  He used out of the ordinary stories of the revolutionaries, of Jacinto and Bonifacio —  to give us a feel of life during the revolutionary times, as if he himself experienced these times.

Since it was at the peak of the UP Centennial celebration when he taught us, he pushed the class to get involved with the festivities of the university.  He made me take a closer look at the UP oblation, beyond just being an icon of UP and a favorite picture taking spot.  Perhaps, if it hadn’t been for him I wouldn’t have even known that the statue concretized Rizal’s “Last Farewell”, that it had a base depicting the islands of the archipelago, and that even its 3.5 meter height had meaning (350 years of Spanish rule).

4.   By challenging me to think quick and deep, react spontaneously and be ready for action.

Sir Buhay did not spoon feed us.  He challenged us by asking a lot of questions, some as easy as “Have you met the handsomest boy in class?”  Some as thought provoking as “If you had a choice to go abroad and work as a teacher, will you?”

To add excitement to questioning and answering, he gives us 1-2-3 counts to respond.  If we don’t, he is ready with a “punishment.”

I felt obliged to come always “prepared” as a good model to my younger classmates.  In his class, being ready did not only mean doing prior reading, researching topics and presenting a report.  He required us to be ready with a song to sing, a poem to recite, or a joke to crack when a lull happens in class.  While I memorized the lines of the videoke favorite “My Love Will See You Through” (to make sure that I can announce class participation after the first stanza), I am glad he didn’t ask me to sing or there’d be torrents of rain.

5.   By making me realize I can do something to make others lives better and making me responsible for other Filipinos.

I believe Sir Buhay has already self-actualized as a person when he became our teacher.      He was always thinking of others: family first, student-teacher welfare, the plight of the sugarcane and other farm workers, the risks of the OFW women, the abused child selling turon and pony tails at the UP Sunken gardens, the graduating UP student who has not finished a thesis because of financials, the retired teachers’ pension and many more. I heard that for sometime, his salary was even eaten up by delinquent UP student loans which he co-made.

His stories of what some friends entitled: “Ang Mga Walang Kamatayang Istorya ni Buhay” were packed with dreams of helping others and making others happy:  building a public library in his hometown out of the “bookay-bookay” books he bought, giving clothes to the poor children in distressed areas in Commonwealth/Batasan, and bringing us to his retirement farm.

He had his ways of making students feel special by noticing one’s new haircut or outfit; by entertaining a student’s husband while his wife was still in another class; remembering my favorite color (and pledging he’d give me his new red umbrella soon); by sharing produce harvested from his “imaginary” fruit farm (though bought  at the UP Shopping Center) and more.

I can go on and on to re-tell my encounters with Sir Buhay who used himself — being a teacher  — beyond the books, beyond the classrooms to teach his students not only history but how to write a better Philippine history.  After my EDUC 100 class, I feel I have emerged not only with relevant historical knowledge but a mind which understands the past, eyes trained to appreciate the beauty around me, a heart sensitive to others’ feelings, the pride of being Filipino,

the daring to be a little “different kind of teacher” …

and finish well, like my teacher, Sir Buhay.

Written by mom/ma’m A, a UP graduate of Business Economics, a masters in Business Administration, a Certificate in Professional Education who began a new path in education when she reached her golden year in 2007.  She currently coaches, tutors, and teaches at MindGym Philippines which she envisions to be a venture of lasting significance.

Viva! Mabuhay! Buhay

By Jean Millare

“You get the best out of others when you give the best of [yourselves].”

Two days ago, I learned of shocking news: Prof. Mabuhay Alonzo had passed away. I could not get over my disbelief and I thought right away of my professor–his wife–Prof. Ross Alonzo…

I met Sir Buhay only once. It was at the UP Centennial book launch a year ago. I don’t recall much of our conversation but there were two things I clearly remember. He was showing us a book he bought–a collection of Ilocano literature, a rare find and for only P25! “We need to appreciate how rich our culture is,” he said. “It’s in the literature that we get in touch with our roots as we learn about our history.”

At the time, we were enjoying some refreshments served after the program. He offered us more, so we were so full. Then he made us get some more at the buffet table. Afterwards, he wrapped the food and shoved it into our bags, saying: “You are students. These will be leftovers soon, anyway.”

I got to know a lot about this interesting personality at his necrological service on Saturday as some students, faculty members at the College of Education, his closest friends and family gave their eulogies. A man who was definitely not your usual professor. He would bring his students to Quiapo to buy ukay and DVDs, to Recto to get piles of second hand books, to small museums one would normally not go to, to the outskirts of the city to visit the wake of someone he probably met on the street. He had his heart on those that other people would typically not give much attention to…

He was not materially rich, but he had so much to give that even the little things he had he shared to others. He would buy second hand clothes and books to give to communities devastated by storms, not minding the five-or-so-hour drive to the area. He was the kind of person who would treat his students to Jollibee, pay for their jeepney fare, or sign their tuition loans at the risk of paying for it if they failed to.

One of his closest friends, my professor at the language department, Prof. Orillos recalled the last time they were together: “He gave me a pack of biscuits and a glass of water and told me to take good care of myself.” Another colleague remembered the time when Prof. Buhay fed them with the sweetest and freshest melons to their hearts content.

He loved to haggle to get cheap purchase but he was willing to pay the cost for something of value to him. His daughter shared about an instance when they were in Real, Quezon and saw a pawikan about to be slaughtered by some village folks. He immediately offered to buy it from them without thinking how much it cost, and together with his family, he set the precious creature to freedom…

He invested a lot of his time in people, generously sharing what he had and even going out of his way to offer help.

But what has captured my interest the most in this man was his devotion to his family and the extraordinary love he had for his wife. “Ama seemed to have done a lot for other people, yet he still had so much time for the family. How could he have done it all?”

Serving was his way of showing love. He would go to the market to choose for himself fresh food he would later prepare for the family… He would patiently look after his grandson, babysit and bring him from school… He would run errands for his wife knowing she had so much responsibility both as a professor and a university administrator.

“To Buhay, Ross was the best thing that ever happened to him.” Had I been in his class, I would have heard the famous love story. He could not stop talking about it even after decades of being married. His colleagues and students wouldn’t have missed hearing about how he courted her, proposed to her and the life they had together since. Whether people cared or not, he would tell his stories anyway.

Mrs. Ross Alonzo seemed to be his exact opposite and never disclosed any personal stories to her students. But I got a glimpse of how Prof. Buhay showed his devotion to her through simple things like returning books she borrowed at the library or driving for her when she needed him to. When a friend told me she seemed all right, I believed deep inside, she must have been grieving so much. True enough when it was her turn to speak, she finally broke down and revealed her heart: “He said we would grow old together.”

I am grieving for her loss but did not have the words to comfort her. Though she has been my mentor, my terror professor I have grown to love, hugging her still seemed awkward. The most I could do was hold her hand even for a while and pray a silent prayer for her and the family.

Prof. Mabuhay Alonzo had his own uniqueness that students and some colleagues may not have appreciated very well. He had his reasons. In the end, it is not so much what a teacher taught in words that he is remembered. It is the life he chose to live and the example he set. He was a man who followed his passions and convictions no matter what others might think. He lived a full life, doing so more for others than for himself.

Prof. Buhay lived up to his name.

Jean Millare  is a graduate of the University of the Philippines, with a degree in B. S. Food Technology and a Certificate in Professional Education.  She is currently completing her Masters in Education at UP.  She is a director of a Korean English Learning Center.  She is awaiting release of the results of the September 2010 Licensure Examination for Teachers (LET), major in Physical Sciences. MindGym Philippines is prayerful that Jean realizes her target mark in the LET.  She wrote this tribute on August 24, 2009 a few days after the demise of Sir Buhay.

Teachers just like students come in different packages, shapes, temperaments, and seasons.  Some of our teachers come and go with the passing of each school year, each semester, and each course.  But others leave an imprint in our lives, a challenge to work for, and a light burning in us.  One such teacher is Professor Mabuhay Alonzo of the UP College of Education — Sir Buhay to most of his students.

Professor Mabuhay Alonzo of the UP College of Education was an atypical teacher by university standards by the manner he conducts his lessons in history, the challenges he gives his students in class, the relationships he nurtures with others, and the good feelings he leaves behind in the lives of those he related with.  He was an authentic teacher who taught with his life, through himself, beyond the classroom.

And, as if for a purpose, three former students at UP (now teachers) who’ve interacted briefly with him at different times in his life share this three-part Teachers Month tribute from the MindGym family to a teacher-hero:  Sir Buhay Alonzo.

Forced to Good

by Edleen Guanko

‎”The teacher who is indeed wise does not bid you to enter the house of his wisdom but rather leads you to the threshold of your mind.”  Khalil Gibran

I was a delinquent student back in college. I always exceeded the number of absences allowed, and because I was rarely in class I never really got to know my classmates or professors very well.

During my third year, after repeatedly failing Math 17, I shifted my major to Special Education and my minor to Social Studies. I wasn’t particularly interested in these fields but most of my friends were taking them so I said, hey, what the heck.

He was my Social Studies professor, and those who had taken his classes said that you either love him or hate him. There’s no middle ground.

The truth was: I only wanted to take his subjects because my friends said it’s easy to get a passing grade from him. I signed up for one class and then he practically forced me to cancel my other Social Studies subject (taught by a different professor) and sign up for his other one. The reason: his classes were in danger of being dissolved unless he comes up with a decent number of students. Still, there were only four of us in one class and six in the other.

His classes weren’t dissolved; indeed, he fought the college tooth and nail to stay afloat. And it wasn’t because he would lose his job, but because he truly believed that Social Studies is key to instilling patriotism in the Filipino youth. His passion for our country was infectious, and his unconventional teaching methods made our classes feel like having coffee with a friend while discussing national affairs.

His biggest source of frustration and anger during that time was the Revised Basic Education Curriculum (RBEC). RBEC combined Social Studies with other subjects (H.E., Music, Art, P.E., and G.M.R.C.) into one big subject called Makabayan. He fought the DepEd on this, and at one point we were asked to form a rally in front of the DepEd office to voice our opposition.

Passionate as he was, though, our discussions in class weren’t always serious. He injected anecdotes, sometimes relevant to the topic being discussed, sometimes not. My favorite one was about his wife. He said, before he married her she was a sweet lamb. After he married her she turned into a crouching tiger, hidden dragon. But it was pretty obvious he was smitten with her.

All in all, I took three of his classes. I couldn’t remember reading any textbook for the assignments he gave… all we needed was the newspaper, a critical mind, our fervent love for our country, and a desire to change things for the better.

If he was still alive, I doubt he’d remember me. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I remember him, and the things I learned from him, and I hope and pray that all of his students would remember him and honor his memory by loving this country and trying to make a difference.

Goodbye, Sir. And thank you.

Edleen Guanko is a graduate of the University of the Philippines College of Education, awaiting release of the results of the September 2010 Licensure Examination for Teachers (LET), major in Values Education. MindGym Philippines is hopeful that Edz gets a flying mark in the LET though she belonged to the “delinquent maroons” group of the LET review batch.  She wrote this tribute on August 20, 2009 in her multiply blog when she learned about the passing away of Prof.  Alonzo.