The following Monday began like any other at Jose Rizal High School.
Mr. Emman arrived before sunrise, the air still cool and the school quiet. His footsteps echoed softly in the corridor as he entered the EIM workshop, a mug of coffee in one hand and his well-worn lesson plan binder in the other.
He felt energized.
The recent success of the Wiring Skills Competition had ignited something in him—hope, direction, maybe even pride. He had sketched out new plans: a Barangay Wiring Literacy Day, a student-led home safety inspection drive, and even an exhibit booth for the Division TLE Month.
But as he walked into the faculty room, a pale envelope caught his attention.
It was sitting neatly on his desk. Cream-colored. Jose Rizal High School's seal stamped in red wax. His name, handwritten across the front.
He paused.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
Mrs. De Jesus.
The Memo
He opened it slowly, heart thudding a bit faster.
To: Mr. Emmanuel Sotelo
Please report to the Principal's Office at 10:15 a.m. regarding a matter of professional concern.
— Office of the Principal
He read it twice.
Concern?
His chest tightened for a moment. Had something gone wrong during the competition? Was a parent unhappy? A safety complaint, perhaps?
He couldn't think of anything—except one possibility.
The past.
10:15 – Principal's Office
Mr. Emman knocked on the glass door bearing the name:
Ma. Teresa De Jesus, Principal
Jose Rizal High School
"Come in," came her voice—calm, as always.
Emman stepped inside and stopped.
Seated across from her was a face he hadn't seen in almost a decade.
Engr. Elmer Dulatre.
His former TESDA assessor. Now a division supervisor.
And the man who once said, after failing Emman's NC II demo, "You're not meant for teaching. You belong behind the panel, not in front of a class."
"Mr. Sotelo," Mrs. De Jesus said, gesturing to the seat. "Thank you for coming. Engr. Dulatre is conducting a performance review for TLE teacher selection in the regional showcase. You're being considered."
Considered—by the same man who once told him to give up.
Emman sat down, composed but alert.
"Long time, Mr. Sotelo," Dulatre said curtly.
Emman nodded. "Yes, sir. Since the NC II evaluation."
Dulatre opened a folder. "I've reviewed your portfolio. Quite thorough. Competition logs, lesson plans, student performance records. You've done... more than expected."
"Students deserve nothing less," Emman replied.
Mrs. De Jesus watched silently, her eyes flicking between the two men like a referee waiting for the first move.
"We'll observe one of your classes today," Dulatre said. "4th period. Electrical Troubleshooting. I want to see how you really work in the classroom."
Observation Under Pressure
Fourth period came quickly.
Emman didn't change anything. He didn't stage the class. He didn't clean the board twice. He ran it the way he always did—with passion and order.
The topic: Ground Faults in Lighting Circuits.
How fitting, he thought.
As he spoke, Engr. Dulatre stood at the back with a clipboard, stone-faced.
"Class," Emman said, "what happens when a ground fault is left unchecked?"
Marco raised his hand. "It may not trip the breaker immediately, sir. But the longer it's ignored, the more damage it causes."
"Exactly," Emman nodded. "You might not see the danger, but it's there—quiet and destructive. The same goes for us. Ignored problems don't disappear. They hide... until they explode."
He glanced, just briefly, at Dulatre.
Then carried on.
After Class – The Debrief
The students filed out. Dulatre remained.
He stepped forward slowly, brows furrowed—not angrily, just deep in thought.
"You run a clean workshop," he said at last. "Tight management. Real teaching."
"Thank you," Emman said carefully.
Dulatre crossed his arms. "You know, I remember when you were just starting. Nervous, stuttering. You couldn't even finish your demo properly."
"I remember too," Emman said. "But I didn't stop wiring just because one breaker tripped."
That made Dulatre smirk faintly. "You've grown. I won't deny it."
He closed the file and extended his hand.
"I'll endorse you for the Regional TLE Showcase. Just don't make me regret it."
Emman shook his hand, firm and confident. "I won't."
Later, with Mrs. De Jesus
That afternoon, Emman was cleaning the workstations when Mrs. De Jesus arrived.
"He approved you," she said simply.
Emman stopped what he was doing, turning slowly. "Yes, Ma'am. I didn't expect it to come full circle."
She smiled. "Growth rarely travels in a straight line. It loops, it detours… and sometimes, it grounds out, only to reconnect stronger."
He chuckled. "Is that your way of telling me I passed?"
"It's my way of telling you that Jose Rizal High School is proud. You didn't just fix the circuits. You've lit up futures."
Reflection
That night, as he sat on his porch under the buzz of a single LED bulb, Emman twisted a length of yellow THHN wire into a circle.
A reminder.
A symbol of how broken things—memories, mistakes, opinions—can still be part of a working system if they're wired with wisdom.
The fault that once humiliated him… was now the very ground he stood on to rise.