CHILD PROTECTION is, without an iota of doubt, undeniably crucial inside the classroom. Over the years, the landscape of classroom discipline in the country has shifted dramatically. Judging on the collective experiences of teachers, I would like to think that the pendulum may have swung too far.
The excessive implementation of laws such as the Child Protection Policy (DepEd Order No. 40, s. 2012), the Anti-Bullying Act of 2013 (RA 10627), and the Special Protection of Children Against Abuse, Exploitation and Discrimination Act (RA 7610, amended in 2017) has created a school setting where teachers, supposedly the students’ second parents, now walk on eggshells. Many fear that even the mildest form of correction could be misconstrued as abuse, and could lead to administrative sanctions or even legal consequences.
The Child Protection Policy explicitly prohibits corporal punishment, including shouting or the use of words that “humiliate or threaten.” While this was intended to prevent abuse, it has also discouraged firm verbal correction. Similarly, the Anti-Bullying Act rightfully protects children from peer and authority figure abuse, but its vague definitions can be exploited by students who resist any form of disciplinary action. RA 7610 further complicates matters by classifying emotional and verbal reprimands as potential forms of psychological abuse.
The result? A growing number of students who are, quite frankly, entitled for all the wrong reasons and to use the words from a public school teacher’s viral social media post, “allergic to discipline.” To think that these students will soon be part of the country’s work force and who will move on with their lives as members of a larger community and the society.
Compare this to the 70s, 80s, and even the 90s—an era when many Filipinos remember being disciplined with tough love right inside the classrooms. Back then, our teachers were strict but fair. Whether it was a slap on the wrist, a stern and strongly-worded lecture, or being made to stand in the corner, the core values of respect and accountability were instilled in our minds and hearts. Not a single parent raised an eyebrow or filed a complaint. As for our generation, there were no cases of depression, anxiety or mental health breakdown. In fact, we grew up resilient, focused, and grateful for that kind of discipline we received from our teachers. We learned that discipline wasn’t cruelty—it was care.
Powerlessness pervades every classroom today. Many teachers I know are unable to correct bad behavior for fear of being labelled abusive. What makes the situation and every incident even worse is the long line of parents who seem to find it convenient to point all ten fingers at the school but not a single one at home, where discipline, like charity, always begins and grows.
For the nth time, I couldn’t help but emphasize that teachers are not in any way enemies. They are second parents. Similarly, the school is not a battlefield but a second home. But like any home, rules and discipline are essential in creating a nurturing and productive environment. When the law strips educators of the ability to guide with firmness, we do more harm than good. We risk raising a generation of entitled students—ones who expect and clamor for praise but reject correction.
It’s time to re-examine our policies—not to weaken child protection, but to strike a balance. Because in protecting the child, we must also protect the teacher. After all, the classrooms need and deserve teachers who can guide with tough love, discipline with dignity, and help shape resilient citizens who are ready to face the back-breaking challenges in the real world outside of their classrooms. Let’s empower, not muzzle, every Filipino educator.
