Hi friends! We’re raising funds to buy portable Wi-Fi devices for poor students in our city.
As you may have heard, DepEd has implemented a blended mode of learning, and students will be receiving a combination of online and module-based instruction. Some students simply cannot afford a smart device, let alone a reliable internet connection.
If you want to and are able to help, you can send any amount via bank transfer, PayPal, or GCash. We’ll collect donations until September 28.
P.S. Thank you so much for your help!
From the bottom of my heart, I’d like to thank everyone who has donated so far. I’m very happy to see so many of you who are eager to help me with this cause. Thank you for extending help to our less fortunate brothers and sisters. Thank you also to all those who have shared my posts with their social networks.
While you’re here, let me tell you a story.
My brother teaches at Silangan Elementary School. It’s a very competitive school, regularly competing in both local and international academic contests. They also actively participate in extra-curricular activities by the DepEd. They do all these despite being strapped for cash. (I know this; we’ve asked for donations in the past for their various activities, including the materials for disaster response and coordination.)
It’s easy to look away from all this. Nothing about this is new. But there was this one story from my brother’s first year of teaching at this school that just left a huge impact on me.
There was once a teacher who taught Social Studies. He used to require everyone in his class to prepare a quiz folder — a piece of cardboard folder with a few sheets of paper stapled inside of it. Around August, which was already three months into the school year, some students still did not have a quiz folder.
So as a form of punishment, he asked those students who didn’t prepare to stand, and made them explain, one by one, why they were not ready.
One of the students was heavily reprimanded.
Aside from not bringing the required folder, he’s often distracted in class. Sometimes, he doesn’t pay attention; other times, he falls asleep in the middle of the lecture.
The teacher asked him what was wrong. The student said nothing.
One of his classmates spoke in his defense and said that he usually spends evenings picking up trash. He and his sibling often work late into the night, scouring through other people’s trash to find recyclable items they can sell at a local junk shop.
Side note: In Filipino, we call this pangangalakal — trading — and it’s usually done in the poorest neighborhoods. It’s a dangerous job because it exposes the mangangalakal (trader) to untreated waste (which is scary especially now that there’s probably a ton of medical waste out there), but it’s how many poor people survive in Metro Manila. They salvage whatever scrap of metal or plastic they can find in exchange for some cash.
The teacher talked to the student in private after that. He learned that the student and his sibling usually walk from barangay to barangay, village to village, each night to raise enough funds for their baon (allowance) for the next day. They usually divide P10 ($0.21) between them so they can go to school.
Imagine a world where poverty doesn’t keep poor students from receiving a quality education.
Better yet, imagine a world where children didn’t have to work to send themselves to school.