It was a rainy Thursday morning.
The rhythmic tapping of rain on the workshop's tin roof echoed like a metronome, steady and indifferent. Mr. Emman stood by the window, coffee in hand, watching the drops race down the glass like tiny wires searching for ground.
Today's lesson was supposed to be simple—Basic Troubleshooting of Electrical Lighting Circuits. But as with most things in teaching, the most unpredictable wires weren't the ones inside the wall.
They were the ones sitting in your classroom.
Warning Signs
It began subtly.
Marco, one of the brighter yet emotionally distant students in Grade 10, arrived late.
Not just five minutes—but twenty.
No excuse. No eye contact. Just slid into his seat and started tapping his pen with a restless energy Emman didn't like.
"Late again, Marco?" Emman asked gently, not in front of everyone—just as he passed by.
Marco didn't reply. Just shrugged and muttered, "Traffic."
But something was off. His uniform was half-drenched, shoelace dragging, and his notebook was nowhere to be seen. Marco wasn't just late. He was somewhere else entirely.
Tension Builds
The activity started.
Students were grouped and given common faults to diagnose: burnt bulbs, loose terminals, tripped breakers. Each team had a faulty lighting board wired for simulated issues.
Everyone buzzed with excitement—except Marco.
He stood at the back, arms crossed, refusing to participate with his group. The others tried to get him involved, but he brushed them off.
"Gusto mo ikaw na lang magturo?" he snapped at his classmate, pushing the tester aside.
"Marco," Emman called calmly. "Can we talk outside for a moment?"
The class turned quiet as Marco tossed the tester down and stormed out—without waiting.
The door slammed.
The Walkout
Outside under the eaves, rain pouring just beyond the concrete, Emman caught up to him.
"Marco—wait."
The boy turned, jaw clenched. "Ano, sir? Mali na naman ako? Lagi na lang ako mali, e."
"No one said you were wrong."
Marco scoffed, eyes wet—not from rain.
"I'm just tired of being the one who messes things up. At school. At home. Kahit saan."
Emman's instinct was to fix. But this wasn't wiring. This was human. And sometimes, short circuits needed silence before tools.
So he stood beside Marco and said nothing for a while—just shared the space.
The rain fell harder. The silence was louder.
Finally, Emman spoke.
"You know what causes most electrical faults, Marco?"
The boy didn't answer.
"Loose connections. Wires that used to be tight, but got worn out. And unless you tighten them, unless you check the box regularly—they burn out. Slowly. Silently."
Marco looked up.
Emman continued, "You're not broken. Maybe just… loose in places right now. And that's okay. But don't walk out on the system that can help tighten those connections again."
Marco stared at the puddles. Then, quietly, "Can I go back to class, sir?"
Emman smiled. "Your team still needs someone to test their continuity. You ready?"
Marco nodded.
Restoring the Circuit
Back inside, no one said a word when Marco returned. His group slid the tester back to him without judgment. Together, they diagnosed the fault—correctly this time.
As the bell rang, Marco stayed behind a few seconds longer.
"Salamat, sir," he muttered, almost inaudible.
Emman simply nodded. "See you tomorrow."
After Class – A Visit from Mrs. De Jesus
Later that day, Mrs. De Jesus passed by the workshop.
"Everything alright earlier?" she asked, eyes sharp but curious.
"Yes, Ma'am," Emman replied. "Just a minor short circuit. Already reconnected."
She chuckled lightly. "You're quick with those metaphors."
"They help," he said. "Students don't always understand themselves. But they can understand a circuit."
She looked at him thoughtfully.
"Keep doing what you're doing, Mr. Sotelo. You're not just teaching EIM—you're grounding lives."