Learning curve

We don’t need a degree to see that something is deeply wrong with education in the Philippines. We just need to open our eyes to the fact that, as some 27 million students troop back to school, many won’t even find chairs to sit on.

Some will be packed like sardines in sweltering classrooms — if they’re lucky to have classrooms at all. Others will make do in corridors, in makeshift spaces divided by plywood, and even under trees.

On Sunday, the eve of class opening, the Department of Education trumpeted that it had procured 33,000 laptops for teachers, 5,000 for staff, and 26,000 smart TVs.

That’s good. Still, when you’re short 150,000 teachers, 165,000 classrooms, and 56,000 non-teaching staff, handing out electronics feels a bit like giving a tourniquet to someone who needs surgery.

It’s not just about the budget, though that’s a big part of it. Education Secretary Sonny Angara admits as much — funds are tight, and the storms get stronger every year, wiping out what little we rebuild.

But the deeper storm is one we’ve long stopped seeing: the slow erosion of learning, the quiet collapse of a system meant to lift us.

Just look at the numbers.

In the latest PISA (Program for International Student Assessment), only 16 percent of our 15-year-olds met the minimum proficiency in math, and 24 percent in reading. We’re not talking about excellence here — we’re talking about basic literacy and survival skills in a 21st-century economy.

Let’s then look at our neighbors. In Singapore, over 85 percent of students meet or exceed proficiency. Even Vietnam, with far fewer resources, has left us in the dust.

We like to say our children are our future, but we seem content to let that future rot in 40-degree heat with no fan, no water, and no teacher trained to teach the subject they’ve been assigned.

In more than half of our high schools, teachers handle subjects outside their specialization. That’s not just unfair to them — it’s a betrayal of our children.

What’s needed isn’t a patch — it’s a full rebuild from the ground up.

First, funding. Real funding. Not just token increases, but a leap to at least 4 to 6 percent of gross domestic product, which international standards deem the minimum for developing countries. If we can find billions for confidential funds and intelligence funds, we can surely find it for books and roofs and chalk.

Second, respect. Pay our teachers enough so they don’t have to moonlight as sales agents. Train them properly. Support them. Stop burying them in paperwork so they can do what they were hired to do: teach.

Finally, fix the foundation. Invest in early childhood education. Make sure every child can read, count, and think by Grade 3. After that, the rest becomes remediation — a salvage job instead of formation.

Education is not charity, it is justice. It is the most powerful tool to break the cycle of poverty and powerlessness — but only if we treat it not as a budget item to be trimmed, but as a sacred duty.