Deconstruct This! (Diary of the Frustrated Literature Teacher Entry 2)

Ten slow minutes and the bell would ring. But I saw from my students no eagerness for freedom like fixing their bags in advance- Readying to be dismissed and from this prison called the classroom.

No, none of those. Not even when the chatter of other convicts along the corridors was invading my classroom. It was almost a miracle considering that what was making them and their brains stay was a poem. Almost. 

That poem is the "The Secret Language" by Maria Luisa B. Aguilar-Cariño about an Igorot woman who travels abroad and through the different vicissitudes of work, she loses by degrees all traces of her origin, identity, culture, (You name it) the color of her hair, the nakedness of her breasts, even the sight of cows. 

I chose the poem since most of my students were fellow Igorots, (understandably) most plan to go abroad, and some already did. But what happened in those final ten minutes is reason enough for me to NEVER CHOOSE THIS POEM AGAIN.

Previously, we have been taking on songs and this was our entry into poetry.. The discussion was going on quite well, the students were engaged, many took time to answer and even ask questions as we went about stanza by stanza. However, that was only until the final stanza, when the persona remains nostalgic of her past and only in her solitude can she utter her true(almost lost) name "Binaay".

In the night,

                   When I am alone at last,

      I lie uncorseted

           Upon the iron bed, 

                      Composing my lost beads

                              Over my chest, dreaming back

                           Each flecked and opalescent

                         Color, crooning the names,

          Along with mine:

      Binaay, Binaay

This was supposed to be my clincher for the assignment and my bridge to the next topic. I would ask as I did, who Binaay is? And with enough close responses follow this up with an assignment for the class to share next meeting their own Igorot names, or if they have none, at least ask any of their close kin and also share the name. Then we could go on and talk or debate about culture in the face of colonialism: are we losing it? Or is it merely evolving? Or any of the topics only the teacher understands and cares about.

Yes, with care and understanding, I asked, "Who is Binaay?"

No one answered.

I asked again, fearing that the hour long discussion could not lead to an answer that was totally obvious and almost taking this as a sign that they are already anticipating the dismissal. But aside from the silence, almost no one was moving to fix his/her bag.

Silence is hell.

Plan B, make this the assignment instead.

And then one student raised his hand and said "Sir, vice-president".

"Come again?", I asked.

"Sir, vice president" he repeated, now with a smirk. The class laughed.

I gave a puzzled smiled to why the class was laughing so for the second time I asked "vice-president?"

"Sir, vice-president Binay", this time with a bigger smile with a louder laughter of the class.

In stories, they call this a plot twist. I call this a genre-twist. You are watching a move that at first is a tear-jerker then halfway becomes a romcom, or a gruesome horror suspense adventure! Or just another day of the frustrated literature teacher.

I thanked the student for the laugh, and laughed at myself for being the last person to get the joke. Altogether, I forgot about the assignment I was supposed to give. More or less importantly the point and the question I wanted them to take home was lost among the hahas and the goodbyes. There goes the bell. 

Moral of the story? 

Do not vote for Binay, that is, if he still goes for the presidency come 2016. 

He ruined the poem. Think of what he can still ruin if he wins.

See you next meeting!

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For the fellow frustrated Literature teacher: 

I believe that such an instance is a good opportunity to introduce/insert two topics. 

First , if not yet done, is the concept intertextuality- how the a literary text can be defined by a politcal text (If you are so into texts, point how Binay in relation to Makati is a different Binay in relation to the Philippines.)

Secondly, to which I regret not doing, is to introduce Derrrida, Differance and Deconstruction. To go further into how meaning is always slipping away like how Binaay cannot be Binaay forever both in the universe of the text and "reality" outside of the text. And then demonstrate in whatever way you understand deconstruction and begin deconstructing those two texts, the political and the literary. Or just the political.

P.S. Kimberly Nance reminds Literature Teachers to anticipate and prepare for possible misreadings.