Summers of Childhood

Now on school break, my two sons -- one of whom had just finished high school and the other a would-be high school senior -- have begun hunting for summer jobs. They tried inquiring from at least three fast food chains in town, but they were turned down. They were told they were too young to qualify for the minimum age 18 requirement. But they didn’t give up.

As of this writing, they were still seeking for a job to do this summer. A friend told us that we advice our sons to try inquiring at City Hall.

As a way of preparing himself psychologically for whatever job awaits him, my eldest son asked his mom: “What kind of job can they possibly offer at City Hall?” His mom said she had no idea but opined that maybe my son could help fix files, dust tables, and prepare coffee for some personnel. “Do you mean I’ll be doing that for eight hours five days a week for a month?” he asked. He couldn’t imagine himself doing something boring for eight hours daily for a month.

We don’t want him to develop a defeatist attitude towards something based on unfounded perception or imagined fears so we told him to try first before even judging whether that elusive summer job is boring or exciting.

Whether my eldest son and his brother can find a job or not doesn’t matter at all for us parents -- at least for now. For one, they are just active teenage kids seeking for something on which to use their energies this summer. For us, the experience alone of our sons in looking for jobs is already part of their education.

Of course, the experience of hunting and finally landing a job will give the two kids some sense of fulfillment and triumph. As they get to learn something and get to meet and relate with other people in the process, they can say to themselves that they are ready to face adult responsibilities sooner or later when they have to stand on their own feet.

And if they finally get jobs, they will be doing something more productive other than just playing computer games at home, listening incessantly to hip-hop music and texting their friends. This will also definitely help reduce our electric bill.

On summer jobs, I would tell my kids that school break for me and my siblings was no break when we were in grade school and high school. School break meant sunrise to sundown work in the rice fields or in the nem-a or swidden farms. But somehow we found some ways to enjoy our childhood even in the midst of heavy toil, which the International Labor Organization may consider “child labor”. Hunting honey while tending our swidden farms and catching fish and lobsters while camping out in the rice fields were exciting experiences that still fill memories of my Kibungan childhood summers.

In fact, I can now liken my childhood excitement of learning that my bamboo trap had caught some lobsters and fish to the same feeling of ‘high’ each time a newspaper or news agency used an article I submitted.

Since I had to help procure my needs when I had to enroll in college, I also worked in a friend’s vegetable farm in Brookside village in Baguio and at La Trinidad valley right after my high school graduation. At that time I was paid P5 per day with free board and lodging. We worked from Monday through Saturday. Sometimes we had to work until morning of Sunday. Again, somehow I didn’t feel “kawawa” (pitiful) or abused at all. Learning to raise cabbage and potatoes actually became part of my education.

So if the printed word becomes irrelevant and I’m forced to choose another vocation, I can perhaps go back to my hometown. There, as I used to do during the summers of my youth, I’ll roll my sleeves, wear my straw hat, pick up my hoe, sow some seeds, and anticipate and share my sprouting seeds’ joy as they seek out and embrace the sunshine. (9April2006)