Who says history is a bore?
To mark the 8th year of Write Things, historian Ambeth Ocampo was invited by popular demand for the 8- to 17-year-old community class
Ambeth Ocampo makes history come alive for the young. With our writing classes on Zoom for more than a year now, how could our Write Things center celebrate its eighth anniversary in the usual manner in Fully Booked, our home? In keeping with the spirit of the times, we thought of a community class, free of charge for our 8- to 17-year-old target audience of our twice a month Young Writers’ Hangouts?
There was much to celebrate— eight years of such classes facilitated by published writers (those only with books to their names, mind you) with no miss, even holding a class session with just one student; quarterly classes for adult writers; more intensive Summer Writefests; and six annual anthologies of student writings. Why, even we ourselves are surprised. We were joined in our celebration by Fully Booked and Anvil Publishing with special surprises.
Welcome idea
Actually, the idea on how to celebrate came from Writefest students John Cedric Tuazon, Benedict Pijano and Jessica Santos, who were talking enthusiastically about Ambeth—an author I was surprised they knew of. They were asking one another if they had attended any of his talks.
Thus, Ambeth became the inspired choice for our anniversary class. He readily accepted as he had never spoken to such a young group before and welcomed the idea. He thought our usual hour too short and even suggested 90 minutes. Who’s to complain?
And what a blast of an anniversary for Write Things it was at our community class on Sept. 11, with an overwhelming 300 plus registrants and 132 in attendance.
Registrants had to be screened because college students ignored the age requirement, hoping to make the cut. Parents asked if they could take the place of their children who had to be in school that afternoon. They were dropped but a parent or two confessed to Ambeth himself after the talk that
they managed to listen behind their children. There are always ways and means.
Ambeth had a 90-minute conversation that talked about his passion for history, the importance of asking questions, why reading and writing matter. He took them on a tour of his workspace and eschewed the old belief about clean, uncluttered desks—might they reflect a clean, empty mind? The special items on your desk can provide a needed respite and make you relax.
Insightful questions
One was pleasantly surprised at the insightful questions of these 8- to 17-year-olds. Even when time was up, 20 hands were still raised. I wanted to end the session, but Ambeth said we ought to answer all. So, who was the ogre? He was asked who his favorite Philippine president is, how he confirms information from conflicting sources, does he read for pleasure or for research?
Ambeth manifested what good teaching is all about. He explored the etymology of “history” and demonstrated these with memorable stories that led one to be curious about even more history. History as a story with meaning and relevance to the reader. He himself knew what stories would regale and fascinate the audience. And what did he say was the best way to conquer a blank page or a blank screen—write on IT.
He demonstrated what a reckless adventurer he is and will stop at nothing to pursue a passion, including clambering up the Rizal Monument in Luneta to get up close and personal with his hero. One parent of a child in attendance asked her mom if she would do the same.
Super fans
He listened carefully to the students, was willing to answer every question, and carefully prepared and adjusted his material to the age group. He also chatted with them before and after class, so that even after we said goodbye, 12 super fans lingered. An 8-year-old said he had read Ambeth’s books, a little girl said she was using the Anvil voucher to buy more books, while others showed the Ambeth books in their libraries.
The teacher in Ambeth confessed that although he knew his material well, he still spent two restless nights in preparation. A habit of his to “show my respect for my audience.”
He had his own surprise—signed books for three winners and two über fans. His lament over virtual classes—“I cannot read my audience, I cannot hear them laugh over my jokes, I can see nonverbal cues, I can see from their faces if I’m getting across.”
He did succeed, for requests for a repeat and fan mail immediately followed. The audience left inspired and wanting to know more—isn’t that what true learning is all about? And how Ambeth Ocampo wished these youngsters had History teachers who would further nurture such curiosity and high level of interest.