THIS WEEK, teachers across the country face one of the most difficult parts of their work.
They are not simply checking papers or finalizing grades. They are making crucial decisions that will shape a student’s future. They have to determine who will receive honors, who will graduate, who must take summer classes, and who, despite all considerations, will not pass.
For the record, no teacher takes this lightly. No teacher celebrates failure. In fact, teachers spend months trying to prevent it.
They remind students of missing requirements. They call out repeated absences. They send messages, hold conferences, and reach out to parents at the end of every quarter. Many extend deadlines, give second chances, even third and fourth chances in the hope that somewhere along the way, the student will respond.
Yet when results come out, teachers often become the easiest targets.
“Ot eyu ne mu pu dinan 75 ing anak ku?”
“Ot eye pu dininan ditak a konsiderasyun?”
“Ot ekayu pu malunus, masira yapu paintungulan ing anak ku!”
These questions may come from concern, but they overlook a hard truth. Schools have already been more than considerate. Sometimes, even to a fault. Failing a student is never the first option. It is the last, after every intervention has been exhausted.
So, we must ask ourselves honestly: if we allow students to pass without mastering the required competencies, are we truly helping them?
Or are we simply postponing a bigger failure?
Because learning builds on learning. The next grade level will demand more. College will demand even more. The real life outside the four corners of the classroom will demand the most. When students move forward without the necessary skills, they carry gaps that only grow wider.
When kindness avoids accountability, it actually becomes a disservice.
There is also the matter of fairness. What do we say to the other students who showed up, worked hard, completed their requirements, and earned their place? What do they learn when they see others, who did not meet the same standards, rewarded the same way?
That effort is optional? That standards are negotiable?
That is not compassion. That is injustice.
If we truly believe that teachers are second parents and schools are a second home, then we must also accept what comes with it. Discipline is part of care. Correction is part of guidance. A home that refuses to correct does not raise responsible individuals but raises entitlement.
Teachers must be allowed to help students face the consequences of their actions, not to punish them, but to prepare them.
And parents must remain present. Education is a shared responsibility. Schools cannot carry it alone. When communication is ignored, when follow-ups are missed, when accountability is shifted entirely to teachers, the system breaks down. Ultimately, it is the child who suffers the most.
Failing a student does not destroy a future. Sometimes, it redirects it. It teaches responsibility, demands reflection and builds the resilience that success actually requires.
Teachers are not the problem. They are part of the solution.
The real question is this:
Are we raising children who are ready for the future, or are we shielding them from the very lessons that will help them survive it?
