‘3-in-1 teachers’: 2-day wellness break not enough to unplug

The alarm does not ring at 2 am for most people in Barangay Paltok. But for Marlene Guay, the school days begin long before she reaches Paltok Elementary School.

The 44-year-old Master Teacher II has been teaching Grade 2 for nearly 20 years. From her home in Cubao, she wakes up around 2 am, not to prepare for class just yet, but to manage the workload she’ll carry throughout the day.

It is the first entry on a schedule that will not end until she sleeps: two hours of lesson plans from 2 to 4 am, 30 minutes to care for her bedridden mother, a quick bath, a commute, then classes from 6 am to noon. 

When she finally gets home at one in the afternoon, the household chores start. 

No days off

For two days in September, the usual rhythm of school work was supposed to stop. 

The Department of Education (DepEd) had set September 14 and 15 as a wellness break for teachers — two days when the demands of school were supposed to stay outside of their homes.

A memorandum signed by Education Secretary Sonny Angara directed schools to make the break a genuine breather for teachers — free from meetings, training, reporting, submissions, asynchronous deliverables, “or any other official work,” a DepEd representative said. 

Teachers would remain on paid status throughout. On paper, it was the most protected rest the teaching force had ever been given, cited through the existing rules on compensation during authorized school breaks and non-working periods. 

”Teachers shall remain on paid status during the two-day wellness break,” the memorandum stated. 

For Marlene, the continued pay still came with a continued sense of responsibility. 

“Dahil bayad ka nga, so ‘yung serbisyo talaga, continuous pa rin, nasa bahay ka lang, pero bayad ka. Pero siyempre, it’s not totally free for you.” 

(Since you are getting paid, the service continues, you’re just at home. But of course, it’s not totally free for you.)

Marlene still spent those two days checking test papers.

“Kapag ang isang tao siguro is workaholic, hindi siya nakakampante na wala siyang ginagawa.”

(If a person is a workaholic, they probably don’t feel at ease when they aren’t doing anything.)

Bread and butter

The timing was unlucky. A spate of class suspensions had pushed back exams, so by the time the mandated wellness break arrived, many of her Grade 2 students had just taken their tests. 

The papers could not wait. 

“Balak ko talaga, I have to utilize that time for my family, then, hindi nga ‘yun nangyari kasi ginamit ko talaga ‘yan para sa aking teaching profession pa rin — pag check ng test papers, ng mga outputs ng mga bata.”

(I really intended to use that time for my family, but that didn’t happen because I still ended up using it for my teaching profession — checking test papers and the students’ outputs.)

She brought home stacks of student work left to be checked.

”Inuwi ko na yan noong wellness break (I took it home during the wellness break).”

Then Marlene shares a line she took to heart during her 20 years of service: “Once you’re a teacher, you’re always a teacher.”

“‘Yung tinatawag nating ‘bakanteng oras’ (What we call ‘free time’), there is no such term for teachers,” she said. “So there is no break.”

Marlene isn’t complaining, even quick to say: “This is my bread and butter.” 

But asked how much of the break she managed to give herself, her answer was quietly devastating: “Mabigyan mo na ‘yung sarili mo ng isang oras o 30 minutes na makapag-relax, big deal na ‘yun.”

(If you can give yourself even just an hour or 30 minutes to relax, that’s already a big deal.)

 She cannot remember her last salon visit. 

Marlene reaches for a proverb in describing what a true wellness break looks like: “You cannot give what you don’t have.”

“I wasn’t able to use it the way it was supposed to be used,” she added in Filipino.

The gap between the memorandum and the Monday-Tuesday wellness break is the story the government’s own numbers cannot capture. 

DepEd said it will assess the effectiveness of the wellness break through “monitoring and evaluation mechanisms that may include surveys and feedback-gathering activities among teachers.”

The teachers interviewed, however, said their break gets eaten up by the one thing no memo could control: the demands of home.

3-in-1 responsibilities

For Marlene, the household is a three-generation care load. 

Her 13-year-old son can now cook his own meals, so majority of her time goes to her mother, who’s bedridden after suffering from a stroke.

Marlene manages the medications, directs the caregiver, handles the finances, and takes charge of the housework because she is the only daughter among her siblings.

Her husband, an accounting supervisor, manages the rest of the household tasks. 

“Parang baliktad na, ang ilaw ng tahanan naging haligi na ng tahanan, at vice versa.” 

(It seems like things have been reversed: the light of the home has become the pillar of the home, and vice versa.)

The hardest part is not any single task. It is putting tasks in order of importance. 

“Alin ‘yung uunahin ko, ‘yung anak ko na nangangailangan ng aking tulong, ‘yung nanay ko na nangangailangan ng tulong dahil bedridden nga siya, o ‘yung trabaho ko dahil meron pa kaming hinahabol na duty?” 

(Which one should I prioritize: my child who needs my help, my mother who needs assistance because she is bedridden, or my job, since I still have a duty  to attend to?)

Marlene divides her days between being a teacher, a mother, and a daughter.

”Time management is the key.”

Small moments of ease

Melissa Pelayo, 54, a Grade 5 Science teacher who has spent 23 years at the same school, knows what it’s like to be “3-in-1, 2-in-1” — her own comparison, borrowed from the coffee sachet, for the many roles she must blend into one person.

Her two sons, now 30 and 28, are grown and working, leaving her with her 85-year-old mother and two dogs, an American hairless and a French bulldog. 

Melissa travels two hours each way from Tanza to Quezon City. Her husband, drives her. He’s a head teacher at E. Rodriguez High School, so he understands. 

Once she arrives, the house is left behind and the classroom takes over.

Still, work and home get blurred. Pelayo often brings schoolwork back with her, from checking student outputs to preparing activities for her three sections across two Science subjects.

Finding pockets of rest

The aroma of Melissa’s cooking fills the morning air, lingering in the kitchen as she moves from preparing food to brewing coffee. When it is time for her morning cup, she never makes just one. She pours two — one for herself, and another for her husband, Marvin.

“In a simple way, ayun, ‘yung pag nagkakape ako in the morning, so dinadamay ko na rin siya ng pagkakape.”

(In a simple way, when I have coffee in the morning, I include him in my coffee routine.)

At home, she finds small ways to unwind. For her, the wellness break comes in small pockets of ease.

Melissa spent her wellness break with a little relaxation and a trip to the mall with her husband. They went out to eat, attended church, and spent time together — a simple change of scenery from the classroom, with no reports waiting to be finished. 

A break, but not quite 

During the break, Melissa gave students what DepEd called Guided Asynchronous Activities — but she kept them deliberately light. 

Small activities they could finish at their own pace: a reading here, a game there, perhaps an exercise to keep them engaged. She described them as “very simple.”

“So games na puwede nilang sagutan, ‘di ba? Para medyo ma-enjoy naman nila.” 

(So, I give them games they can play, right? Just so they can enjoy themselves a bit.)

But while the activities were kept light for students, the work did not disappear for teachers.

Marlene said a cancelled class does not necessarily mean a lighter day. Behind every missed lesson are papers to accomplish, modules to prepare, and topics that have to be squeezed into an already packed teaching schedule.

She said teachers also handle Alternative Delivery Mode (ADM) requirements, adding another layer of paperwork when regular classes are disrupted.

“Ibig sabihin, naidadagdag ‘yun sa mga backlogs ng mga teachers’ topics,” she said. 

(This means it gets added to the backlog of topics teachers need to cover.)

Marlene said she cannot always be sure that parents will be able to discuss the lesson with their children at home, leaving teachers to fill the gaps when classes resume.

”Nakokonsensya kami. Kaya hindi namin sila binibigyan ng isang sasagutan na hindi namin na-e-explain,” she said.

(We feel guilty. That’s why we don’t give them anything to answer without explaining it first.)

From coffee breaks to paperwork

After the quiet of the wellness break, school slowly found its way back into her hands. Melissa returned to the classroom, wiping down the windows before turning her attention to stacks of student outputs. 

There were papers to sort and check — work from three sections across two Science subjects. 

Even Melissa, who managed to squeeze in some leisure during the wellness break, still won’t describe the two-day breather as a complete rest. 

“Hindi ko rin masasabing na as in 100% na wellness break kasi may mga bata kami tinuturuan,” she said.

(I wouldn’t call it a 100% wellness break, though, because we have children we’re still teaching.)

The papers came with her, even during the break. There were grades to evaluate, missing requirements to check, and students who still needed instruction. 

For Marlene, the idea that teachers have an easier life whenever classes are cancelled doesn’t capture the other things that happen behind the classroom doors. 

“‘Yung vacation talaga… at the end of the school year. ‘Yun talaga ‘yun,” she said. “Pero yung cancellation of classes? No. Kasi burden ‘yun sa teachers.”

(The vacation at the end of the school year, that’s the real thing. But the cancellation of classes? No. Because it’s still a burden for teachers.)

The break a retired teacher never had

“Masuwerte ‘yung mga teachers na nagkaroon ng wellness break, kasi kami no’n, wala. Continuous,” said retired teacher Josefina del Castillo.

(Teachers who got a wellness break are lucky, because back then, we didn’t have one. It was continuous.)

Del Castillo, who taught for 45 years, said the profession shaped her. She began her public-school career in Pasig before transferring to Quezon City in 1980. At Commonwealth Elementary School, where she spent 11 years, she taught Grade 6 English and Science, and eventually rose to Master Teacher II. 

She remembers a time when teachers had no wellness breaks — not even a semestral break. The work simply continued. 

A two-day breather, she said, may not be enough. ”Palagay ko hindi. Kailangan one week (I don’t think so. It needs to be one week).”

Josefina knows what rest feels like now as she retired in 2016 at the age of 65. 

Retired yet still a mother 

Retirement brought a different rhythm.

Her daughter, Joanne, 38, had worked for years at Botika ni Aling Mary, a pharmacy, before suffering a stroke on May 5 this year. 

Now bedridden, she depends on Josefina for much of her daily care — from preparing her food and helping her bathe to changing her clothes and diaper and doing the laundry.

The errands that fill Josefina’s days now are quieter: going to the grocery, preparing food for the week, and taking care of the household.

She used to plan meals and groceries around her teaching schedule. Now, much of her routine revolves around caring for Joanne ever since her husband died. 

Even after leaving the classroom, though, some habits from her teaching years remain. After taking a bath, she still puts on her lipstick, powder, and fixes her eyebrows — a small routine she has kept even in retirement. 

That is why she sees today’s wellness break from a different perspective.

For her, a real wellness break should mean leaving schoolwork behind completely: ”Ang tunay na teacher ay tunay na makakapagpahinga kung walang inuwing trabaho galing sa school.” 

(A true teacher can truly rest if they don’t bring work home from school.)

When recess isn’t a break

For teachers, even recess comes with a responsibility: supervision.

At Paltok Elementary School, recess is not simply time to sit down and eat. Teachers monitor pupils as they buy and eat food, help open packed meals, keep an eye on the food tray, and make sure no one gets hurt.

”Although that is a time — or free time ‘yun sa mga bata — for them to eat, pero sa teacher no, hindi ‘yan free time ng teacher para umupo, kundi isupervise talaga ayung mga bata,” Melissa said.

(Although that is a time, or free time, for the children to eat, for the teacher, it’s not a free time to sit down; rather, it’s a time to supervise the children.)

Marlene described the same routine — only 10 to 15 minutes of recess, followed by more work: counting the money in the food tray, assisting pupils, and supervising bathroom breaks.

”Kaya, mabilisan lang talaga (So, it’s really just a quick thing),” she said.

For Josefina, the rule was the same when she was still teaching.

”Sa recess, ‘di ka makakapagpahinga kasi alam mo, supervised recess nakalagay doon sa program eh.”

(You can’t really rest during recess because, you know, the program specifies ‘supervised recess.’)

Lunch however, was different. Unlike supervised recess, it was considered a true break for teachers in Josefina’s time, a chance to eat without being called back to work.

For Melissa, though, even lunch had to be planned around the classroom as she is scheduled for an afternoon class.

”So, kailangan bago mag-12, nakapag-lunch na ako bago ako haharap dun sa bata. Kasi pag humarap ka, dire-direcho na ‘yan.”

(So, I need to have had lunch before 12, before I face the children. Because once I start, it’s going to be a continuous process.)

And just like that, even the shortest pauses in a teacher’s routine must be squeezed between the needs of the students. – Rappler.com

Jade Tan is a Rappler intern studying AB Journalism at University of Santo Tomas, Manila.