4 days ago
Teaching not a typical a 9-to-5 job: Inside the life of a young educator
Just two years into the teaching profession, Dan Laurenz Sipalay already carries the weight of what most would consider a veteran's load.
A proud graduate of Caloocan City Science High School — and now its youngest faculty member —Sipalay stands at the frontlines of public education, balancing teaching, training, clinic duty, and advisory responsibilities in a system that often demands more than it gives.
'Being a teacher is not your typical 9-to-5 job,' Sipalay said during a sit-down interview with GMA News Online.
'It doesn't stop at dismissal time. It follows you home.'
On paper, Sipalay taught Disaster Readiness and Risk Reduction (DRRR) to Grade 12 students and core science subjects to Grade 11 ones.
In reality, his job went far beyond the classroom. He trained campus journalists, served as a school clinician, implemented hygiene programs like WINS (Water, Sanitation, and Hygiene in Schools), and managed an advisory class of 30 to 40 students.
He begins his workday at 7 a.m. and officially ends at 2 p.m. — but as every teacher knows, the paperwork, lesson planning, grading, and counseling stretched far longer.
'Even after school, I check activities, organize paperwork, and make sure my advisory room is clean. It's almost like a 24/7 job. May (There is) checking pa ng (of) notebooks, group activities, individual outputs. May papeles na kailangang ayusin. Tapos may advisory class pa (There are papers to be finished. There there's my advisory class),' he said.
'Tinitingnan ko pa kung malinis ba 'yung room, kasi it reflects on me,' he added.
(Then I always see to it that classroom is clean since it would reflect on me.)
Despite the long hours, Sipalay said he had found ways to be productive. One habit he developed was maximizing his free periods.
The systemic strain
Sipalay is fully aware of the learning crisis plaguing the Philippines. A 2023 report by the Philippine Statistics Authority revealed that at least 18 million Filipinos were functionally illiterate—a statistic that hit him hard.
'Saddened ako,' he said.
'Even though hindi ko firsthand na-witness kasi science high school kami, alam ko kung gaano kahalaga ang literacy at numeracy. Basic skills 'yan. At kapag hindi natutunan sa basic ed, hahabulin mo 'yan habang buhay.'
(Even though I didn't witness firsthand because I am from science high school, I know how important literacy and numeracy are. Those are basic skills, and if you don't learn them in basic education, you will go after them the rest of your life.)
He traced the roots of the crisis to the pandemic-era mass promotion policy.
'Nung time ng pandemic, minass promote ang mga bata. Kaya ngayon, kami ang kailangang mag-adjust. Tinuturo ulit namin 'yung basics,' he explained.
(During pandemic, the students were mass promoted. Now, we are adjusting. We teach again the basics.)
To deal with learning gaps, Sipalay uses diagnostic tests and formative assessments.
'Para alam ko kung saan sila nahihirapan. At kung paano ko sila matutulungan,' he said.
(So that I would know where they are having problems and how I can help them.)
On classroom shortages and access
Though his school has not experienced the kind of overcrowding many public schools face—thanks to its competitive entrance exam and relatively small student population—he knew the issue was real. National data showed over 150,000 classrooms were still lacking across the country.
'Sa amin, hindi ko pa na-experience firsthand,' he shared.
'Pero alam ko marami talagang kulang. Kaya nga may plano ang school namin na mag-expand, magdagdag ng building, classrooms, at lalo na ng laboratories.'
(I didn't experience it firsthand. But I know there is a shortage. That's why our school has a plan to expand, add school buildings, classrooms and laboratories.)
With more classrooms, the school could accept more students. And for Sipalay, that means more kids gaining access to quality science education.
Teachers as shock absorbers
Sipalay echoed a sentiment shared by many teachers: that they're often the ones who bear the brunt of systemic failures.
'Laging kami ang taga-salo. 'Pag may kulang sa system, sa resources, sa policies, kami ang nasisisi,' he said.
'Pero sa totoo lang, kami lang ang sumusunod. Hindi naman kami gumagawa ng policies. Kami lang ang nag-iimplement.'
(We always get the blame. Whenever there is something lacking in the system, resources, we get the blame. But the truth is, we are the only ones who follow. We did not make the policies, we only implement them.)
He pointed out that criticisms about the poor quality of education often failed to account for the difficult conditions in which teachers work.
'We improvise a lot,' he said. 'Minsan kulang ang gamit, minsan kulang ang oras. Pero kailangan magturo pa rin.'
The weight of expectations
With so many roles to fill and responsibilities to juggle, Sipalay admitted that burnout isn't uncommon.
'May mga time talaga na napapagod ako,' he said. 'Lalo na kapag sunod-sunod ang klase, walang pahinga. Nakaka-drain.'
(There are times when I get tired ... especially when classes are consecutive, we have no rest. It's draining.)
His way of coping? Revisiting his purpose.
'Bumabalik ako sa dahilan kung bakit ako nagtuturo,' he said. 'Para matulungan ko 'yung mga bata. Para maging functional sila. Responsible adults.'
(I go back to why I am teaching. To help the children. For them to become functional, responsible adults.)
He had never seriously considered quitting—not yet.
'Siguro kasi bago pa ako,' he said with a smile. 'Pero sa ngayon, gusto ko pa talaga. Na-eenjoy ko 'yung pagtuturo.'
(Maybe because I'm still a newbie. But for now, I enjoy teaching.)
Bridging generations
Sipalay is not just a teacher at Caloocan Science — he is also an alumnus. For him, returning to teach where he studied is a form of giving back.
'Homecoming talaga,' he said.
'Nandito pa 'yung ibang teachers ko noon. Ngayon, co-teachers ko na sila.'
(It's a homecoming. My former teachers are still here. Now, they are my co-teachers.)
It wasn't without challenges. Being the youngest in the faculty meant adjusting to a different dynamic.
'May generation gap. Mahirap minsan maki-connect,' he admitted. 'Pero okay naman. Na-adjust din.'
(There is a generation gap, sometimes it's hard to connect. But it's okay, I've adjusted.)
His age, however, gives him a unique advantage in connecting with students.
'Kasi halos magkakaedad lang kami. Alam ko 'yung mga trends nila, kung ano 'yung mga pinagkakaabalahan nila. Nakakatulong din sa pagtuturo.'
(We're almost of the same age. I know their trends, what they're busy with. Those things help in teaching.)
He remains conscious of keeping his teaching methods updated.
'Hindi na pwede puro traditional. Nagbabago ang mundo, kailangan sumabay. Ginagamit ko 'yung innovations na natutunan ko sa college.'
(You don't have to be always traditional. The world is changing, we need to go along. I use the innovations learned in college.)
A message to policymakers
If given the chance to speak to DepEd or lawmakers, Sipalay's request would be clear — support the teachers.
'Support us through training, workshops, refresher courses. Equip us to keep up with changes in the classroom,' he said.
He also emphasized the need for resources—from laboratory tools to e-libraries, and computers.
'Kailangan talaga ng materials. Makakatulong 'yan sa students indirectly,' he explained.
(We need the materials. These would help the students indirectly.)
He welcomed proposals to incentivize teachers with extra loads or to hire non-teaching staff to help with paperwork.
'Kapag nabawasan ang non-teaching load, makakapag-focus kami sa pagtuturo—which is the main job,' he said.
(If non-teaching loads will be reduced, we can focus more on teaching, which is our main job.)
The class of 2025
As he prepared to send off his Grade 12 advisory class—his first batch—Sipalay grew sentimental.
'Chine-cherish ko talaga bawat araw,' he said. 'Alam kong someday, when I look back, gusto ko fulfilled ako. Kasi alam ko, ginawa ko ang gusto ko.'
(I always cherish our everyday experience. I know that someday when I look back, I will be fulfilled, knowing that I did what I want.)
Their struggles were his struggles, too. Having recently gone through college himself, he understood their fears, their anxieties, their dreams. That closeness, he believed, made him a better guide.
'Alam ko 'yung frustration nila. At gusto ko tulungan sila lampasan 'yun,' he said.
A calling, not just a job
For Dan Laurenz Sipalay, teaching is more than a profession. It's a mission. A duty. A form of nation-building.
'The reality on the ground is far from what's on paper,' he said. 'Teachers improvise, adjust, and go beyond—not just because we're told to, but because we care.'
And so, each morning at seven, he showed up.
Because for Teacher Dan, and for thousands of teachers like him—this was never just a job. It was a choice to stay, to serve, and to believe.
In classrooms where names blur, where supplies run out, and where policies often fall short, he remained—young, hopeful, and determined.
And that, perhaps, is where true education begins. — RSJ, GMA Integrated News
