After months of uncertainty, fluctuating attendance, and challenging adjustments brought by external circumstances, nothing brings me more joy than seeing my Aeta students truly back at school—present not just in body but also in heart, spirit, and readiness to learn. This school year has brought a renewed sense of hope and excitement, and I can say with sincerity and gratitude that my Aeta students are back.
Teaching in a far-flung school like Buhawen Elementary School has always required deep commitment, flexibility, and empathy.
The Aeta community's unique rhythm, lifestyle, and struggles sometimes make regular schooling difficult to sustain. Many of my students had to miss school in prior years due to several factors, including distance, family obligations, a lack of transportation, and, on occasion, apathy caused by inadequate learning aids at home. Something feels different today, however. This school year, kids have more concentrated energy, brighter faces, wonder-filled eyes, and are more reliable.
There is a special feeling when I enter the classroom and see the children sitting in their chairs, notebooks open, pencils in hand, waiting for what the day holds. I am especially touched when I see familiar faces I have not seen for a while—students who previously struggled to come regularly are now showing up every morning with their backpacks and smiles. Their enthusiasm tells me that school has once again become a place they long for, where they feel respected, safe, and empowered.
There is more to my Aeta students' return than the physical one. It reflects the public's growing faith in education.
In my experience, parents are becoming more involved—walking their children to school, attending meetings, participating in Brigada Eskwela, and monitoring their children's progress.This connection between home and school is critical, and I sincerely appreciate the efforts of families who prioritize their children's education despite the difficulties of rural life.
My kids' interactions with me and each other have improved. They are gaining self-confidence, honing their social skills, and learning to communicate more effectively. Our reading and writing abilities still require development, but we are more determined now. I've seen youngsters grow more pleased with their accomplishments, offering to read aloud and raising their hands more often. Even the more reticent ones have begun to relate their lives and dreams, tell stories through their drawings, and open up.
This change is also a result of the school's growing efforts to be more inclusive, respectful of Indigenous culture, and supportive of their learning styles. I have learned to blend traditional lessons with local experiences as a teacher. We discuss farming, the forest, their families, and the environment. We use songs, stories, and games that reflect their way of life. In doing so, the students feel seen and valued and engage more deeply with their learning.
Of course, challenges still exist. There are days when attendance drops due to weather or family matters. Resources are limited. Our classrooms, though now improved, still need more materials. And yet, the spirit of learning is alive—and that is the most important thing.
My Aeta students remind me daily why I chose to teach in this community. I am motivated by their development, tenacity, and smiles. It's a privilege to witness their journey, be a small part of their lives, and assist in opening doors for their future. I can't wait to coach them further, encourage them to chase their dreams, and celebrate every accomplishment, no matter how tiny.