This story originally appeared in the Philippine Daily Inquirer on January 28, 2003.
One Saturday morning in July last year, I received a crucial call regarding a young life. At the other end of the line was Andy’s dad. He was telling me Andy had been brought home by someone who found him running barefoot and almost totally naked on the highway. He was a bit bruised and out of control.
I immediately went over to their house and saw Andy. His eyes were cold and dull. He looked weak and exhausted. He barely looked into my eyes while I spoke to him.
I came to know Andy the year before. He attended my Chemistry classes but he usually couldn’t focus on the lessons. He seemed disinterested and would often stare blankly at the board. But he was not the kind who misbehaved and became restless. He rarely talked. His mind seemed to be somewhere else.
Late in October that year, his mom decided to make him take tutorials under me, perhaps because I was the only teacher who was willing to accept him. The first night he stepped into our boarding house for his tutorial class, together with two other teens, I sensed big trouble.
Andy had a history of smoking, drinking and drug use. The second student I was tutoring was Andy’s close friend, a tomboy who had grown up in the United States, and the third was a big guy who was as disinterested in his studies as Andy.
I helped them at some personal risk. Aside from doing the tutorial at night, I also had to monitor their behavior and their escapades. I had to become some kind of an agent or a spy. Whether they smoked pot or cigarettes, drank beer or gin, or went around with the other guys, I had to know because I felt that I could not afford to fail.
Andy always came for the tutorial every day after school. I was amazed to see him construct and name organic compounds or even balance equations. Though he did not do these perfectly, he understood his lessons. He could be a bit careless, but he was quite diligent in solving problems and doing the very long exercises I gave. And he seemed to be happy about the progress he was making.
Once when I asked why he had a stutter, he told me, “Epekto sa drugs, Ma’am.” I found it quite worrisome that he said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
I often explained to him that to me the tutorials were serious business. And it was not because of the extra income they brought me, but because it was a matter of professional pride. I went about my tasks seriously although there were times when I felt tired and bored. I wanted the three of them to value education and life.
I knew I could not cure Andy of his stutter or his addiction. But I thought I could help him help himself.
There were times when I felt like giving up. But still I gave Andy the assurance that even if everyone else believed that he was totally rotten, he could still find goodness in himself and that there would always be a part of him that said he had to change himself and mend his ways. I knew this was more than what my task called for, but I wanted him to know because I could still see some hope in him.
That summer, he sent me a text message saying he was off for a vacation somewhere in Surigao with his cousins. He had in fact started his vacation a few weeks too early.
In his next text message, he told me that he wanted to stop going to school for reasons he never really explained. He just said he was tired. I felt he was hopeless, but still I tried to encourage him to continue.
Perhaps I succeeded because he enrolled that school year. But I could see right off that he was the same 15-year-old who had attended my Chemistry class. He had not changed. He was still cutting classes frequently, usually on days when there was Physical Education.
But he improved a lot in his dance sessions. He had a knack for modern dance although the school’s dance troupe performed mostly cultural and interpretative dances.
That year I was assigned to the elementary department. I did not see him often in the corridors. But occasionally I would catch a glimpse of him at the school canteen or in the school bus.
Then came that Saturday when his dad gave me a call. When I talked to Andy, he told me he could remember how much he wanted to run and get killed by a bus, but ironically he wanted to live at the same time. He said he was praying that his life would be spared even while he was running. He couldn’t believe how shamefully he had behaved. “Dili ko gusto mabuang, Ma’am! Hadlok kaayo (I don’t want to go crazy, Ma’am. It’s so scary),” he remorsefully told me.
I wanted to scold him the same way I did in my classes. I wanted to tell him how stupid he was. He was wasting his life.
But I saw shame, guilt and intense fear in his eyes. The same eyes which had stared blankly at my chalkboard.
“It was like I was dreaming,” he continued. “I thought I got hit by a bus. But I could tell that I was still alive. I will tell the truth. I don’t care anymore if I will be expelled from school. But at least I will do something good in my life. I will never use drugs again.”
Again I felt like letting him have it. But the fear that filled his eyes stopped me. I could not say anything.
I know that Andy’s story is a fairly common one. It is not the first time something like this happened, and neither is he the only one caught in this fix. Thousands have more or less the same story to tell or even worse. But his has been imprinted in my heart. Because in my young career as a teacher, it was the first time I tried to make someone abandon the path to self-destruction. I felt I must do something to save him. At least I tried.
Even if I have not managed to change him, I was glad to have befriended this fragile, young soul. Within the short time I was tutoring him, I earned his respect. He became like a brother to me.
I cannot say whether Andy still has a future or if his dreams are dead. I didn’t believe he would fulfill the promise he made to me. Breaking what had become a habit and an addiction was going to be very difficult for him. But still, I hope. Even if it is hard for me to believe it will ever come true.
The lessons I have learned from Andy will always remain in my memory. He was a tough challenge for an impatient greenhorn like me. Because I never did what he was doing, even in my teens, I could only guess what he was going through. I never understood his world. But still I tried what I could to change him and make him turn his back on the dark and scary world he found himself in.
