STILL, some students find their footing. Take Marjorie, a once-soft-spoken nursing freshman who barely passed her first major subject. Her professor, known for high expectations but also timely feedback, gave her a second chance after a brutally honest but fair consultation. She revised her paper — twice — after guidance and eventually aced the finals. That experience did not break her; it built her. She now tutors juniors. Not every student succeeds this way, but it proves what happens when challenge and support walk hand in hand.
The post of Dr. Sorolla stirs needed reflection. It reminds us that coddling students at every level will not serve them. Indeed, some need a jolt. But as the legendary educator Dr. Onofre Pagsanghan of Ateneo de Manila once told us during a Jesuit conference, “You do not wake someone up by slapping them. You wake them gently, but firmly, with love.” Teaching with rigor does not mean teaching without empathy.
The problem, perhaps, lies not in the post itself but in how it is sometimes weaponized. Some use it to justify arrogance. Others use it to evade accountability. “It is not my job to make you learn,” becomes a convenient excuse for a professor who refuses to answer student queries, provide rubrics, or adjust methods based on student progress. But in a true academic community, even freedom is exercised with care.
This leads us to a bigger conversation. Are our students ready for this kind of intellectual independence? Do they know how to read beyond PowerPoint slides? Can they analyze, not just summarize? Have we set them up to succeed in this new space? Biggs and Tang (2011) call it “constructive alignment”—where lessons, goals, and tests actually make sense together. The professor who simply lectures but never checks if students are processing content might be failing that alignment.
Meanwhile, in his Inquirer column, Dr. Gideon Lasco noted how difficult it is to get students to read deeply. He also highlighted how professors must both entertain and educate. That dual demand is real. Especially now. TikTok dances compete with term papers. Group chats with curated summaries replace long readings. The challenge for professors today is not just to profess, but to convince students that what they profess matters.
Some of the most influential educators I know — whether tenured or not — have figured this out. They do not water down content, but they humanize the process. They model intellectual rigor with humility. They guide without spoon-feeding. They critique papers, but also care when students miss class. They uphold high standards but know when to bend without breaking the student. This is not leniency. This is wisdom.
These days, some students expect high grades, while some professors keep their distance. Maybe the real answer lies in the middle — where freedom and accountability meet. Where professors are free to profess, but also committed to creating meaningful learning experiences. Where students are not coddled, but not abandoned either.
As the conversation continues online, maybe it is time we move past the tired labels — the spoon-feeding teacher, the distant professor. Some teachers push for quality not to be harsh, but because they believe students can do better. Some students are not self-entitled, just overwhelmed — trying, failing, revising, still hoping their effort counts. And then there are professors who give everything — guides, samples, feedback, time — only to receive late, rushed work. Failing a student never feels good. It stings, especially when you care. Some professors reread weak papers more than once, hoping to find something to save. But setting standards is part of the job too. It is not cruelty; it is commitment. Because real teaching, both in basic or higher education, is not about being soft or strict—it is about helping students grow, even when the lessons are hard.
In the end, it is not about job titles. It is about the bond between someone who knows and someone eager to learn. They clash, they connect—and both grow. The teacher and the professor are not two different species. They are chapters in the same journey. And if we are lucky, we become both—sometimes in the same day./PN
