top of page
Writer's pictureThe Communicator

House of Cards

If I had a peso for each time schools get closed due to governmental inefficiency, I’d probably have two pesos, which isn't much, but it’s questionable that it happened twice. 

Schools are closed again—not because of a pandemic—but due to a dangerously high heat index. It’s appalling how disparate these cases are from each other. Yet, they highlight one predominant issue in not just the Philippines, but almost every other country in the world: lack of foresight.


According to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) report in 2023, climate change is a man-made disaster, challenging the notion of its unpredictability as a natural phenomenon. This report highlighted one key issue: The Philippines, like most countries,  should have been more proactive, not reactive, to the effects of global warming.


This means allotting heavier funding to climate resiliency, instead of focusing on stopgap measures—shifting of modalities or reverting the academic calendar. This includes improving ventilation systems, and air-conditioning setup in classrooms, or creating eco-cities that shape society to fit the environment, and not the other way around.


However, in the status quo, what we have are cities that can’t even accommodate the environment, apart from some aesthetic parks, in exchange for highways or malls; an agricultural sector without proper measures to maintain crop yield amid El Niño; and classrooms that can’t even handle fluctuations in temperature—a house of cards that tumble down in the face of climate change. 


Burdening systems, not citizens


Resiliency is a well-known trait of Filipinos, but not for good reasons. It’s seen in media portrayals of Filipinos bouncing back against major catastrophes like Typhoon Yolanda or deadly earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, prompting people to romanticize their struggles as a symbol of strength. 


While indeed stories of hope, we forget one crucial factor in these dire situations: these people have no choice but to survive. They don’t have power over the situation that forced them to suffer, yet they are burdened to be resilient—expected to endure. 


Here’s the gambit: resiliency should never be a personality trait, but a systemic trait. Filipinos will never have to smile through the pain if the system is resilient enough to mitigate damage.


For example, heat index refers to apparent temperature, the heat as our bodies perceive it in response to other factors like humidity and infrastructure. If classrooms were built with climate resilience in mind, students and teachers wouldn’t have to endure blistering classroom sessions, incurring loss in academic integrity. 


Dangerous levels of heat index from 42°C to 51°C cause heat cramps, heat exhaustion, and worse off, heat stroke. According to the Department of Health, there are over 77 cases of heat-related illness recorded in the country, and at least seven people already died due to heat stroke.


What solutions do public officials raise then? Online modality and reversion of the academic calendar—actions that only burden students, not the system itself.


Classroom ‘404’


The Department of Education (DepEd) blamed the pandemic for the disastrous 2023 Program for International Student Assessment (PISA) findings. According to the report, the Philippines ranked sixth lowest in Mathematics and Reading, while third lowest in Science. 


Back in 2022, PISA ratings showed that only 16% of the age group is proficient in Mathematics, while 23% is proficient in reading, and 24% in science—revealing how the majority of 15-year-old Filipinos do not have the expected knowledge base for their age. 


However, the pandemic certainly isn’t the only factor to blame for the learning loss in the country, but inept online modality and changing academic calendar. Worse, these became recycled responses to the heat index, requiring innovative solutions. 


First, shifting back to the old academic calendar will not fix the issue—it will only sacrifice the quality of education by compressing the current academic year. For the Polytechnic University of the Philippines (PUP), this means compromising lectures to push midterms and final examinations earlier. 


The problem is, climate change is not seasonal. If the temperature during El Niño is this high, you could only expect that La Niña is as terrible, if not worse. Do we have to change calendars again once typhoons pummel the country in June? Changing calendars avoids the core problem in this heat crisis—climate change. 


Second, shifting to online learning modality will only repeat academic struggles during the pandemic. While it is true that online classes offer flexibility to students, it is also true that it affects learning among the youth. 


Workplace affects motivation—and homes are perceived differently from classrooms—making learning difficult. In addition, if schools suffer from heat, houses do, too. Online classes trap students in the middle of everything—they can be at neither home nor school.


Most students stay in study nooks or cafes to do their classes and homework then, because it’s too hot everywhere. Not only do poor students have to think about their loads now, but they also have to find cheap coffee places because we don’t have many student-friendly study areas across the country.


How about commuting then? We can’t expect students to travel to schools under extreme heat—well, that’s precisely why we should have eco-cities that embrace the environment. Do you know that within the Arroceros Forest Park, the last forest in the metro, the heat index is 5°C lower than in Manila? 


Imagine if we had cities with good eco-urban planning—it would have been cool aesthetically and physically. The solution is simply to build a structurally-resilient society against climate change. Online classes and shifting calendars are merely after-the-act responses to the heat index. While these are good, we have to look forward to the future—what happens next?


Climate resilience is a long game, and you might think that these suggestions are useless because they can’t change anything. It’s true. This is the reality today: we are trapped with band-aid solutions because our country did not invest in preparing for the inevitable. Worse is, we are forced to suck it up because we can’t do anything about it. 


How much longer do we have to be resilient until everything changes for the better? As the house of cards falls off, pray tell, where do we go?



Article: Marc Nathaniel Servo

Cartoon: Timothy Andrei Milambiling

Comentários


bottom of page