By: Prof. Ken Russel Z. Gutierrez
“Minsan, kahit nakapag-orient ka na, kahit may lesson plan ka na… pagharap mo sa klase, parang wala kang bitbit,” a student teacher says, half-laughing, half-tired.
It’s early January in a classroom borrowed for break time, the fan humming in the corner, and three student teachers from the University of Rizal System – Morong sit before me. Their uniforms are neatly pressed, but their voices carry the weight of the first month of deployment — a kind of exhaustion you can’t quite describe unless you’ve stood in front of almost 50 students trying to make sense of silence, of noise, of sudden questions you weren’t ready for.
Back in January, they sat through onboarding sessions, formal orientation modules designed to prepare them for the classroom: how to make a lesson plan, how to manage misbehavior, how to respond when the unexpected happens. “The orientation helped,” one of them says, “but only up to a point. Iba pa rin ‘pag nandun ka na.”
Since August of last year, more than 150 student teachers from the College of Education have been deployed to various elementary and high schools across Rizal province. Divided into two deployment batches, the Bachelor of Elementary Education (BEEd) and Bachelor of Secondary Education (BSEd) students were the first to be deployed in August of last year, while the Bachelor of Technical Vocational Teacher Education (BTVTEd) and Bachelor of Technology and Livelihood Education (BTLEd) students comprise the second batch, deployed this August.
These schools, where student teachers are deployed, are nestled in barangays where classrooms swell beyond capacity, chalkboards still stand, and education is less about resources and more about resourcefulness.
“Maswerte pa kami,” says another student teacher assigned to a school near Tanay. “May mababait na mentor teachers. Pero ramdam mo ‘yung pressure. Hindi lang ito practice. Buhay ng bata ‘yung hawak mo.”
That line sticks with me—buhay ng bata ‘yung hawak mo. For many of these student teachers, this is their first time being responsible not just for delivering lessons, but for shaping a child’s experience of learning.
A supervising teacher I spoke with shared her quiet observations. “The student teachers come in nervous, unsure. Pero ‘yung galing ng mga batang ito, nararamdaman mo habang tumatagal. Marunong silang makiramdam. Marunong silang tumingin sa pangangailangan ng bata, hindi lang sa output.”
She pauses. “At ‘yun ang mahalaga.”
The final demonstration teaching is set for March — a culminating moment that will determine whether they are ready to graduate and fully take on the role of a licensed teacher. But to many of them, that day is more symbolic than definitive. “Every day feels like a demo,” says one, “kasi bawat araw sinusukat ka, kahit ng sarili mo.”
Before leaving, I ask what they’ve learned so far.
“Pasensya,” says one.
“Pakikiramdam,” says another.
And then, quietly, “Pagkatao.”
I nod. There are rubrics and evaluations to fill, competencies to meet, but here, in this dusty classroom filled with borrowed chairs and leftover snacks from recess, the real lessons unfold not just from textbooks, but from the immeasurable labor of becoming.
And maybe that’s the truest part of teaching: you don’t always know what you’re doing, but you keep showing up anyway.
Photos courtesy of College of Education, URS Morong:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/16cTVa2_mNV83-X6JTjSUFLDEjqkocVLk?usp=sharing
