I am not giving up yet the journal called "Philippine Public Schools." I am getting answers that are beyond the anecdotal and I am beginning to understand now the nostalgia for good education - under colonial administration it may be. The information on English language acquisition and the creation of a system to instil good manners and right conduct are gems about the past that may explain what we are today as people.
We have always been natural critics. In the January 1929 issue of the journal, comments under "Observations and Suggestions" are about the need to encourage pupils to commend their classmates' work. The observer notes: "In the oral language and reading, I observed a general tendency on the part of teachers to allow their children in the after-story-telling comments to over-emphasize the errors their classmates committed while telling the story or reciting before the class." What a scary classroom setting. Can you picture yourself being critiqued by your classmates after you have shared with them your experience during a summer vacation? I will be terrified, or I could prepare my own scathing critique. A nation of critics we would be.
Perhaps, the better title should be a nation of faultfinders: "It is believed children should be taught to commend the merits as well as point out the shortcomings of their classmates in order to lead the children away from the purely fault-finding attitude we find in some critics."
As the old teachers always ask: does anyone still teach Phonics? The journal comments on the time allocated to the drill in phonics and advises that teachers "should stand a little closer to the pupils, pronounced the words more frequently themselves, and when, necessary, demonstrate how certain sounds are made." If these instructions were heeded, we would have no need for accent-neutralizing classes for call centers in the 2000s. But then again, we never really saw that the time would come when we would be pupils again of the English language, or that we would be colonial callboys or callgirls again.
If we are to use the accounts from the pages of journal, then we can infer about the introduction of democratic principles in classrooms. From a section called "Observation By General Office Supervisors, a detailed observation of "Oral Composition" in an intermediate class at Labo (described still as part of Camarines Sur) gives away many of these traits. The observer tells the reader that on "oral composition days, freedom of expression and spontaneity should be the aim." The observer praises how "the teacher does not interrupt the pupil, and pupils are praised for good points rather than criticized for every error." For the educators, it is good to indicate that the supervisors are well aware of errors but he says errors "can be taken up as drill lesson on the succeeding day." By the next meeting, the pupils will not feel slighted personally when the errors are mentioned because by then it has become part of the general lesson.
The attention to details of the colonial administrators is just overwhelming. There is one report underscoring the need to beautify the school grounds. The observer reminds everyone about "unnecessary flower plots which require constant care" and "shrubs placed near the building in order to hide the basement." Schools did not have basement so the observer could be referring the "sirong" of the structure.
Many more instructions are given, like "only permanent shrubs should be planted. Declarations are given out: "Gumamela makes a better hedge than violets." The observer, anticipating some reactions, hastens to add that it while it takes a longer time to grow a gumamela hedge, the "results are more than the extra time and labor expended."
Archival researches generally do not give answers but arouse in us more questions. What were the aims of the American colonial administrators when they started building new physical structures of learning? In 1907, the Gabaldon Act, named after Rosauro Gabaldon of Nueva Ecija, made possible the release of 1 million pesos from 1907 to 1915. For each Gabaldon building, 4 thousand pesos (which could be millions in the present inflation) were appropriated. The municipality where the schoolbuilding would be located would put up its own counterpart fund, and secure contribution in the form of more funding or labor from the community.
By 1916, nearly two-thousand "Gabaldon" were erected. The buildings, some torn down and some decaying through the years, would symbolize the introduction of English language, which up to this day remains the link of our colonial consciousness to anything American and global. And the discovery of gumamela as the perfect hedge.