Guiding Question
As the United States reflects on its 250th anniversary, how can we build a future where multilingualism is recognized as an educational, civic, and economic asset? What can we learn from Filipino educational values and practices that have cultivated one of the world's strongest English-language learner populations while honoring students' linguistic and cultural identities?
Reflecting on this question in relation to my travel experience in the Philippines, I initially wondered how a country that gained political independence only 80 years ago could have developed such a robust and successful English-language learning environment. I wondered if this success was the result of specific instructional policies. How does a developing country implement policies and instructional practices that result in successful multilingual speakers? What specific policies are implemented in English-language learning programs? Are these policies developed by the Department of Education, local school divisions, or individual educators?
I also wondered if the answer could be found in educational and cultural values. In what ways do the educational values of the Philippines support multilingualism? According to the Philippines' Department of Education, Maka-Diyos, Maka-tao, Makakalikasan, and Makabansa are among the country's core values in education. Looking at these educational values and how they intertwine with cultural values such as Bayanihan, I began to see a direct connection between the values a community teaches and the way it creates a nurturing and welcoming learning environment for all students.
Reflection
My field experience in the Philippines was invaluable. It shaped me not only as an educator but also as a member of my own community. I arrived wondering if there was a specific policy, program, or instructional strategy that explained the country's success with multilingual learners. What I found was more complex and, in many ways, more meaningful. I did not find one single reason for this success. Instead, I observed how educational values are woven into the daily experiences of students, teachers, families, and communities. These values create an environment where students are expected to care for one another, respect differences, contribute to their communities, and understand that their education is connected to something larger than themselves.
These values also create space to honor students whose languages and cultures may differ from those of the dominant population. Like in many communities around the world, people who do not speak the dominant language can face economic and cultural challenges, including limited access to quality education. The educational values I observed in the Philippines create an environment and a way of thinking that humanizes marginalized communities by treating people with respect and dignity. These values help define the role and responsibility of individuals within their schools and communities. I learned that school is viewed as an essential sector of Filipino communities, not only for education but also for developing cared-for, responsible, and connected young people.
These children grow in school environments where they are valued, respected, and taught to give that respect back to others despite their differences. As a deeply religious country, one can make a connection between this approach and the educational value of Maka-Diyos, or respect for God and spirituality. Despite the Philippines being predominantly Catholic and Christian, I observed a Good Manners lesson at one of the local schools I visited. The lesson focused on respecting a Muslim classmate and recognizing the value that person brings to the community. Students discussed different ways to respect that person's beliefs and customs. This was not simply a lesson about religious tolerance; it was an example of how students are taught to understand that difference does not diminish a person's value.
I also observed Maka-tao, which emphasizes empathy, kindness, and respect for human dignity, in each place I visited. From Chosen Children's Village in Manila, which cares for children with special needs, to the AHA Learning Center, which supports some of the most economically disadvantaged members of society, to the Cameleon organization, which serves young girls who have experienced sexual violence, I saw people actively developing solutions to problems that affect their communities. This value is practiced, not simply taught as an idea. It demonstrates how education can become a tool for addressing social and economic challenges rather than existing separately from them.
I can also see how the educational value of Makakalikasan, or care and respect for nature and the environment, develops as a civic asset because it encourages learners to take responsibility for the world around them. This is not surface-level teaching but rather a different approach to education, as I saw at RAROFS Farm School in Passi City. Programs like this, which connect education to local agriculture and the environment, can also support local economies and provide students with skills that are directly connected to their communities.
Finally, there is Makabansa, or patriotism. Filipinos are proud of being Filipino. I heard repeatedly that people identify first as Filipino and then with their smaller ethnic or regional community. To uplift your nation, you cannot leave others behind. This sense of national identity, combined with the other educational and cultural values of the Philippines, creates a responsibility to take care of one another.
That responsibility includes multilingual learners.
At Talongonan Elementary School, the local elementary school where I was placed, classes were taught in English, Tagalog, and Hiligaynon, the local language. Rather than seeing the local language as something that needed to be replaced in order for students to succeed, the school incorporated it into the educational experience. This approach preserves culture and identity while also preparing students to participate in a broader national and global community. It showed me that multilingualism does not have to be a choice between preserving where a student comes from and preparing them for where they are going. Education can do both.
This was perhaps the most important lesson I brought home from the Philippines. I began my field study looking for the instructional or governmental policy that could explain the country's success with English-language learners. I left understanding that policy and instruction matter, but they are only part of the story. The deeper lesson is the way educational practices are connected to a community's values. When students are taught that their language, culture, relationships, and contributions matter, multilingualism becomes more than a challenge to overcome. It becomes an asset that strengthens the individual and the community.
As an educator who works with newcomer multilingual learners, this has caused me to reflect on my own classroom. My students arrive with languages, cultures, experiences, and knowledge that are sometimes viewed primarily through the lens of what they still need to learn. My experience in the Philippines reminded me to begin somewhere else: with what they already bring. Their multilingualism is not a deficit. It is an educational asset, a civic asset, and, ultimately, an economic asset.
The United States is approaching its 250th anniversary. As we think about the future we want to build, I believe we have an opportunity to rethink what it means to prepare young people for that future. We should not ask multilingual students to leave parts of themselves behind in order to become successful Americans. Instead, we can create schools where students' languages and cultures are recognized as strengths and where learning English adds to their identities rather than replacing them.
My experience in the Philippines showed me that building this kind of educational system begins with values. Maka-Diyos, Maka-tao, Makakalikasan, Makabansa, and the spirit of Bayanihan demonstrate that education can be about more than academic achievement. It can teach young people how to care for one another, participate in their communities, protect their environment, value their identities, and contribute to the future of their country.
The lesson I am bringing home from the Philippines is that multilingualism flourishes when students are first made to feel that they belong. When we build schools around dignity, community, responsibility, and belonging, students' languages are no longer barriers to overcome. They become part of the foundation upon which we build a stronger educational, civic, and economic future.
Filipino success with multilingualism does not seem to come from one policy, one curriculum, or one instructional strategy. It comes from a broader cultural and educational philosophy that sees students as members of a community whose languages, identities, relationships, and responsibilities all have value.