Si Inday

Hapunan

"Bale ang sagot sa number 11 ay...?"

"32?" Gino confirmed.
"32." Inday nodded.

The thing about math is that, in actuality, it's very simple. 1 plus 2 is still 3, and the activity of writing down symbols is just humanity's established way of communicating the logic to each other.

Kids are very smart, Inday knew. And usually, the fear of Math isn't rooted in any kind of averse reaction to numbers. Based on Inday's experience, the fear of Math is similar to being afraid of dogs or water. Bad experiences with things make you want to avoid them.

Unfortunately, teachers at school usually can't afford to teach every student at a pace that suits each one of them. Some kids are better with their letters. Some kids can barely sit still on a page if it didn't have pictures. In a regular class setting, the lessons are taught at a certain pace, and the students that can't keep the same pace are then made to feel as if they are simply not good enough compared to the rest of the class.

So kids will tend to avoid the subjects they're not immediately good at.

It's not that this method of teaching wasn't fair to the kids, that didn't really matter to Inday. What bothered her with the traditional class setting as an educator, is that it wasn't efficient. How does a school expect to want to even keep its students if the method of teaching relies on "weeding-out-the-weak."

If the subjects in school perform as a scare tactic, then why are we surprised we don't have as many Engineers and Doctors as needed?

Inday flipped the page then, the last question had a grid printed on it. Gino took a glance at the page, and sunk into his seat. I guess he doesn't like graphs, Inday noted. Inday checked the grandfather clock that towered over them at the end of the dining table, it was a good time for a break.

She placed a small piece of scrap paper in the textbook they were using, and closed it shut. Gino perked up in his seat, "Tapos na tayo Ate?"

The screen door of the living room slammed, and Aling Gina's voice travelled through the room. "Sinong gusto ng fishball?" she called. The sound of plastic rustling, and then her slippers thudding as she chucked them by the door.

Gino didn't wait for Inday's permission to go. He squeezed out of his seat, and ran to greet his fishball by the door, and then to greet his mother.

Aling Gina scooched Gino's things from the dining table, and placed her goods. Inday stood up to help her with her bag of softdrinks. Inday took the plastic bag that contained two bottles of 1.5L of Sprite, with two fingers. Aling Gina didn't notice.

Inday moved to grab 2 clean glasses from the sink, and placed them on the table. Aling Gina was pleased, Inday wasn't the type of person that needed to be told what to do. Aling Gina went to the sink, grabbed another clean glass, and placed it on the table. For Inday.

Aling Gina moved to open a bottle, "Inday, may yelo sa ref. Pakuha naman please."

Inday heard the fizz of the bottle open, as she scoured the freezer. The ice came in big chunks of plastic, and would need to be chipped off to fit in a glass. She brought a block of ice over to the sink, and looked for the most appropriate method to break it down. Usually, she'd ram the object into a wall, but Aling Gina's walls looked too nice for that to be acceptable. Instead, she looked for the oldest, biggest, most worn-out knife available on the counter, and used the blunt end of it to hack through the ice.

She came back to the table with a bowl of small pieces of ice, just the right size for Aling Gina's drinking glasses. Aling Gina poured softdrinks for her son, and then for Inday. Gino started on his fishball sticks, happily.