Next Chapter Preview: "Parent Observation Day… and the Unexpec
Friday arrived quicker than expected.
By 6:00 AM, Mr. Emman was already at school, wiping down the wooden desks inside the Grade 10 EIM room. Outside, a banner flapped gently in the morning breeze:
"Parent-Teacher Partnership Day – Together, We Build the Future"
He read it once more and smiled. Emman knew this day wasn't just about formal greetings or printed accomplishments. It was about trust—trust between the teacher and the families of the students he had just begun to know.
He had spent the past evening polishing his students' progress boards. Though it was only the first week, he made sure to take photos of their work, even their mistakes, and printed a few to post on the corkboard: "Learning in Action."
By 7:30 AM, the halls buzzed with a different kind of energy—mothers in floral blouses, fathers in faded caps, younger siblings clinging to legs. Emman stood by the door of his room, offering polite greetings and handshakes.
"Magandang umaga po, Ma'am. Welcome po."
Then he saw her.
A familiar figure stepped past the corner of the corridor—straight posture, thin-rimmed glasses, and a commanding presence that pulled the air around her.
Mrs. De Jesus.
His former principal.
And now—Supervisor for TLE Education in the entire division.
His throat dried for a moment. She hadn't told him she would be visiting. She stopped just in front of him, expression unreadable.
"Mr. Emmanuel Sotelo," she said, formally. "I heard your section is the only one showing hands-on learning this early in the quarter. I came to see for myself."
"Ma'am," he managed with a respectful nod. "You're most welcome."
Inside the Workshop
By 9:00 AM, students and parents filled the room. Some looked in awe at the circuit boards; others quietly inspected their children's electrical sketches.
Emman stood in front, calm but alert.
"Good morning, everyone," he began. "Welcome to our EIM class. Today, your children will demonstrate a basic wiring installation: a simple series and parallel switch configuration."
Murmurs rose from the crowd.
He motioned for his student pairs. Each team stepped up to their respective panels. Jonel and Darwin were ready first—hands a little steadier than before.
"Watch closely, Ma'am, Sir," Emman continued. "The first light will turn on through a series switch. The second, a parallel switch—sa Tagalog, ito po ang karaniwang nakikita sa mga bahay natin, sa mga banyo, salas, at kwarto."
Darwin flipped the first switch.
Click.
The bulb glowed. Soft applause.
Next came the second group, then the third. One by one, circuits lit up.
Emman moved around, narrating with confidence, explaining terms in both English and Filipino so the parents could follow. His voice was steady now. The moment belonged to the students—but he was the wire behind the wall, conducting the whole system.
Then came a moment he didn't expect.
One of the parents—a father in a faded electrician's shirt with a name patch that read "Mang Ruel"—stood up.
"Sir Emman," he said, voice gruff but kind. "Tanong ko lang po—anong ginagawa niyo para masigurado na hindi lang sa eskwela nila 'to natutunan, kundi pati sa buhay?"
Silence. A few parents turned.
Emman gave a soft smile. "Napakagandang tanong po, Mang Ruel."
He stepped forward, then paused beside the student boards.
"Ang kuryente po, tulad ng buhay, may daloy. Kung hindi natin pag-aaralan kung paano ito paandarin ng tama—pwedeng makasama. Kaya po dito sa klase, tinuturo namin hindi lang ang wiring diagram, kundi ang values—disiplina, tiyaga, at respeto sa proseso."
He looked over the class. "Hindi ko layuning gawing lahat ng estudyante kong electrician. Pero gusto kong pag labas nila ng room na 'to, alam nila kung paano kumunekta—sa gamit, sa trabaho, at sa kapwa."
Applause erupted. Even Mang Ruel nodded, clearly impressed.
Emman glanced over at Mrs. De Jesus, who now wore the faintest smile.
After the crowd settled, she stepped forward and said clearly, "Mr. Emman, I've seen dozens of practical demonstrations over the years… but this—this was different. Keep doing what you're doing."
After Dismissal
By 3:30 PM, the room was quiet again. Students had gone home with proud parents, and Emman sat alone at his desk, reviewing the feedback forms.
Then he saw it.
A simple note, scrawled on the back of a comment card:
"Sir Emman, I didn't know my son had the confidence to talk in front of people. Thank you for giving him that chance."
No name. No signature.
But it was enough.
He leaned back, let out a breath, and smiled.
Today wasn't just a good day for the students.
It was proof.
That he was exactly where he needed to be.