Corpus Christi School was my home for 12 years. It bore witness to my simple accomplishments and defeats, it paved the way for me to etch my dreams in stone and it enshrouded my silent smiles and tears. To the abovementioned, none shall compare in grandness to the man I encountered. Since elementary, I have heard his name mentioned with fear and regard. Who is this teacher who speaks the words of Shakespeare as his own, gives daily vocabulary assignments, weekly movie reviews bimonthly book reviews, quarterly term papers and unlimited book reports? Is there such as student who can accomplish everything? The answer lay hidden to me until I reached the last year of high school.

It was an ordinary middle-of-June morning when I first entered the queer English classroom. The room was the size of two classrooms, well it actually was. The blackboard was to the far left end of the room, there was a small stage made of wood and about forty chairs were positioned opposite the board that when a student would sit on it, he would be facing the center of the room instead of the board. There was a table and chair at the center of the room placed against the wall and another set of forty chairs facing the board. The entrances had no wooden doors. So we could still see the back of the gym and the hallway from where we sat. There was a grand ambiance to the room; I could sense greatness. The blackboard, though well cleaned, still had remnants of chalk; the chairs were quite vandalized with old names that were unfamiliar to my feeble mind. Later did I realize that I would have to memorize them and live by them for the months to come.  Two sections were fused during English class so it was twice more exciting. I walked with my classmates to the set of chairs near the board. I usually stayed in the center where I could lie inconspicuous to the teacher.

The first session was anything but ordinary. The teacher sat on his table instead of his chair, he addressed the class with authority, and one could feel his expertise and confidence by the way he delivers his words. He was Mr. Ralph Cecilio. He introduced us to the great men and women of literature and challenged us on a daily basis. He wrote fifty words on the board grouped in five (for Monday to Friday of course), a couple of book and movie titles that I had no idea of. And so he explained the assignments. We were to give three synonyms for each word, use five of these words to make sentences and we were to pass this the day after before 7:40 at the box placed at the school’s gate just beside the guard, a movie will be played on the weekend and we were to write a review to be passed on Monday, plus have an exam about the movie, aside from the vocabulary quiz at that. He also explained that on some days we may have three to four sets of tests; for the vocabulary, the movie, the play excerpts or poems and the book. Seesh! To do 10 vocabulary assignments five days a week was shocking at first but it later on became a routine. Our class would usually arrive early to gather at the tree of life and ask what certain words meant. And some would babble lines from Macbeth or Hamlet in order to recall each word. Aside from that, we had weekly movies to watch and review.