THE PRO­FES­SOR EV­ERY­ONE HATED

The pro­fes­sor was de­scribed to wear a frown to school every day that went well with his fore­head wrin­kles to com­plete the “ter­ror teacher” look.

Sun.Star Davao - - Y-SPEAK! -

BY JAMRELL VINCETTE BUYNAY. Ate­neo de Davao Univer­sity

Ev­ery­one goes through that one pro­fes­sor in col­lege whose very ex­is­tence seemed to be cre­ated for the sole pur­pose of ter­ror­iz­ing stu­dent life. I un­for­tu­nately had the chance to meet such a pro­fes­sor in my fresh­man year.

My pro­fes­sor’s name was Or­lando Darang. Ev­ery­one called him Mr. Darang.

He was a Filipino teacher who looked to be in his early 70s. He wore a frown to school every day that went well with his fore­head wrin­kles to com­plete the “ter­ror teacher” look.

But the pro­fes­sor also wore clean and pro­fes­sional clothes to work. This is one of the things that made me re­spect him.

Since I spent half of my life in Thai­land, my Filipino was weak. I could barely un­der­stand his lessons as I was a fresh high school grad­u­ate from Thai­land. I was not mo­ti­vated to go to his classes and flunked his quizzes.

For the first time in my col­lege life, I tasted a grade bor­der­ing 72. I nearly failed the pre­lim­i­nary term.

Down­hearted, I told my mother I might fail the sub­ject. Through my mother’s en­cour­age­ment, I de­cided to col­lect my quizzes and re­view my mis­takes. I was ready to face the pro­fes­sor’s lessons again.

I did not back down. I re­viewed his lessons af­ter school and re­mem­bered the terms.

When the fi­nal exam week came, I spent hours study­ing in the li­brary. I knew I did my best but a fail­ing grade still haunted me. Filipino was a mi­nor sub­ject and fail­ing would make all my hard work mean­ing­less.

A few weeks af­ter the exam, I opened my Stu­dent In­for­ma­tion Sys­tem ac­count. I nearly cried with re­lief. My pre­fi­nal grade was a B+. This brought up my fi­nal grade to a pass­ing B.

For the first time since I en­tered col­lege, I ex­pe­ri­enced the joy of suc­ceed­ing af­ter days of hard work. It was then that I re­al­ized I had noth­ing to fear.

I had gone through a “ter­ror teacher,” nearly given up, got up, and passed. It was an ex­pe­ri­ence that will for­ever be en­graved in my mind.

To this day, I am still grate­ful to Mr. Darang’s style of teach­ing. I had learned to work to achieve my dreams.

Noth­ing comes easy, but when you work the ex­tra mile to reach a dream, the fruits it bears will make ev­ery­thing worth it. There is noth­ing sweeter than hard-earned suc­cess.

To Mr. Darang, may you rest in peace. Thank you for be­ing a part of my life. I pray the an­gels watch over and touch your soul as you have touched mine.

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