A trowel (/ˈtraʊ.əl/), in the hands of an archaeologist, is like a trusty sidekick – a tiny, yet mighty, instrument that uncovers ancient secrets, one well-placed scoop at a time. It’s the Sherlock Holmes of the excavation site, revealing clues about the past with every delicate swipe.
In this “Time Trowel” installment, I reflect on Severe Tropical Storm (STS) Kristine’s impact on education in Naga City — a place I still call home. Although I’m originally from Tinambac, Camarines Sur, I spent five important years in Naga, attending high school at the Naga College Foundation. It’s where I discovered a deep connection to learning and community engagement.
Kristine hasn’t only disrupted daily routines; it continues to disrupt the foundations of education and cultural spaces, leaving an impact that will linger long after the storm’s immediate aftermath.
Growing up with the constant threat of typhoons, I know all too well how these disasters can disrupt learning. Canceled classes, destroyed classrooms, and the loss of books were common occurrences, and every storm season reminded us that education could easily be derailed by forces beyond our control. Kristine was no exception, and its impact on education shows just how vulnerable our systems are to these recurring disruptions.
Short-term educational disruptions
STS Kristine’s initial effects on education are jarring. Flooded classrooms, damaged libraries, schools used as evacuation areas, and ruined teaching materials have left schools at all levels struggling to resume lessons. In the days and weeks that follow, teachers hold classes in temporary spaces, and students adjust to less-than-ideal learning environments, often with makeshift resources. For younger students, especially, this break from routine is difficult to understand and harder to adapt to. The impact extends beyond physical spaces — there is a collective sense of instability that affects everyone’s ability to focus, learn, and feel supported in school.
In a system already grappling with limited resources, Kristine has introduced yet another setback. Students from low-income families, who may already feel educational disadvantages, are now forced to catch up under even tougher circumstances. Many find their learning hindered not just by physical damage to their schools but by limited access to resources at home, such as books, reliable electricity, and internet access. This immediate disruption adds layers of difficulty to an already uneven educational landscape.
Long-term impact: Educational gaps and disparities
While the visible infrastructure devastation from Kristine is striking, the long-term effects are subtler and, in many ways, more damaging. After the initial rebuilding, schools face challenges that go far beyond physical repairs. Resources originally meant for learning programs or extracurricular activities may be diverted to rebuilding efforts, limiting the support available to students who need it most. These setbacks often create knowledge gaps that are difficult to bridge, affecting students’ ability to progress in their education.
The disruptions brought by Kristine echo the challenges we witnessed during the COVID-19 pandemic, where prolonged school closures and a shift to remote learning highlighted and deepened existing educational disparities. The learning gaps and challenges from the pandemic underscored the importance of accessible educational alternatives and the long-term impact of interrupted schooling. Without sufficient support, students, especially those from under-resourced backgrounds, struggle to keep up academically, setting back their educational pursuits in ways that can persist well into adulthood.
For older students in high school or college, the decision to pause or even drop out of school becomes more common as families prioritize financial recovery over continued education. The opportunity to complete a degree or technical certification often slips further out of reach, especially for students from families who lost their homes or livelihoods to the storm. This creates lasting educational disparities, as students from storm-impacted communities are more likely to face economic and social disadvantages in the future.
Savage Mind’s role as a cultural lifeline
While traditional educational institutions struggle to cope with these setbacks, community spaces like Savage Mind provide a form of continuity and comfort. Savage Mind, an independent bookstore in Naga, is more than a shop; it’s a community resource that serves as a gathering place for students and book lovers alike. It’s a spot where students can discover Filipino authors, learn about their cultural heritage, and even find solace among the shelves.
In my own work, I’ve had the privilege of collaborating with Savage Mind on projects like the Bahay Kubo A Filipino Children’s Song Illustrated Book, a publication that allowed us to share Filipino heritage with young readers. This wasn’t just a book; it was a project meant to inspire pride in our history, to encourage learning outside formal education, and to give young readers a chance to connect with Filipino stories. Savage Mind has become a natural partner in this endeavor, as it provides access to stories and perspectives that might not make it into mainstream curricula. This bookstore is a space where students can explore ideas on their own terms — a community refuge for learning, reflection, and even first dates and friendships formed around books.
After the storm, Savage Mind faced utter devastation from the floods, much like the schools. This reminds me that community spaces like this bookstore are essential to the broader landscape of education. Supporting places like Savage Mind isn’t just about business; it’s about preserving the spaces that promote curiosity, knowledge, and cultural pride. These are the spaces where young people cultivate a love for learning and connect with their community’s values and stories, especially when formal systems struggle.
Adapting education for the future
The impact of STS Kristine reminds us of the need for more adaptive educational approaches to prevent disruption from stalling learning. We need to think beyond traditional classrooms, especially in areas vulnerable to typhoons and natural disasters. Developing remote and hybrid educational models, where students can continue learning online when physical access isn’t possible, could help mitigate these disruptions.
Establishing such systems requires investment, not only in infrastructure but in teacher training and curriculum development tailored to online learning. Students need reliable access to internet and digital devices, and local governments, schools, and NGOs can collaborate to make this possible. Mobile-friendly platforms could be one way to bridge the digital divide, ensuring that students in remote or low-resource areas can still participate in their lessons and stay engaged with their studies.
However, creating a strong online education system requires rethinking the resources we provide and how we adapt them for remote access. Rather than simply adapting face-to-face materials for online use, developing dedicated online resources that are engaging, accessible, and relevant can equip students with the skills and knowledge they need, even when classroom access is interrupted.
Supporting small community spaces
As we look toward rebuilding, we must consider that recovery isn’t just about fixing buildings; it’s about preserving the community structures that support education and culture. Small businesses like Savage Mind are part of this essential support system. They offer something beyond books — they offer an open invitation to explore, question, and learn. For those of us who believe in the power of knowledge, supporting these small bookstores is an act of advocacy. It’s a way of saying that we value spaces where young people find inspiration and knowledge, where learning isn’t confined to classrooms but is a shared community experience.
Investing in the recovery of spaces like Savage Mind is also a statement of our commitment to education’s broader role in society. Whether it’s by organizing community fundraisers, volunteering, or simply buying a book, each act of support contributes to preserving these spaces. These community-centered bookstores provide continuity for young people when formal education systems struggle to rebuild.
As we rebuild in Naga City and beyond, let’s remember that preserving education means protecting the spaces that cultivate curiosity and a love for knowledge. This is more than a logistical challenge; it’s about ensuring that our communities have the resources to continue learning, growing, and sharing ideas, no matter the obstacles. – Rappler.com
Stephen B. Acabado is professor of anthropology at the University of California-Los Angeles. He directs the Ifugao and Bicol Archaeological Projects, research programs that engage community stakeholders. He grew up in Tinambac, Camarines Sur. Follow him on IG @s.b.acabado.