EDSA: A school day for democracy

By Herman M. Lagon

By February each year, a familiar dilemma returns to schools: should Feb. 25 be treated like any other busy Tuesday, complete with quizzes and late submissions, or should it become a moment to slow down and remember something larger than the day’s lesson plan. As the 40th anniversary of EDSA approaches, Catholic education leaders once again ask schools to declare the date an academic holiday—not as a casual break, but as a pause for reflection and civic growth. In their joint statement, CEAP and the CBCP education commission described EDSA as a time when ordinary Filipinos stood between “tanks and violence,” reminding the country that democracy survives only through vigilance, participation, and commitment to truth.

The call sounds idealistic until one considers how classrooms actually run. A teacher in Iloilo may be juggling performance tasks, parent concerns, and a classroom that feels like a lively barangay assembly. In that environment, history often becomes a rushed slideshow or a paragraph memorized for a quiz. The statement suggests a simpler path: use the day to form judgment, not just cover topics. In a loud digital world full of half-truths and slogans, students need time to practice civic clarity.

Holiday or not, the commemoration has value. Schools are among the few spaces where young people can share stories, talk respectfully, and learn the habits of good citizenship. The OECD, for example, notes that media literacy education strengthens students’ ability to recognize disinformation, an essential part of citizenship today. UNESCO likewise frames education for peace, rights, and sustainable development as a lived practice that includes critical thinking and responsible participation, not mere slogans. A school commemoration, if done well, becomes a rehearsal: students learn how to ask, “How do we know?” before they hit share.

The problem is that “commemoration” in many schools has drifted into predictable choreography: a program, a poster-making contest, a few speeches that sound like copied introductions, then back to regular life. Students sense the performative layer immediately. They clap politely, then scroll. A more grounded approach would look like what teachers already do best: make it concrete, local, and dialogic. Instead of a monologue about Martial Law, a teacher can bring in two short primary sources and ask students to annotate what each one claims, what evidence appears, and what questions remain. A Values Education adviser can ask learners to write a one-page “truth audit” of a viral EDSA video: Who uploaded it, what it leaves out, and how it makes them feel. Those are not grand gestures. They are classroom moves that build ethical discernment and critical thinking—the very outcomes the CEAP–CBCP statement calls for.

For schools that choose to suspend regular classes on Feb. 25, the day does not have to be heavy to be serious. It can be structured like a well-designed retreat: a short common gathering, small-group conversations, and a final synthesis that students themselves deliver. GMA’s report on the CEAP–CBCP call emphasizes youth forums and activities that deepen understanding of democratic struggle while encouraging active citizenship. Picture a campus forum where students are grouped by grade level and given a simple prompt: “What does democratic vigilance look like in school?” Answers will not be abstract. It will sound like students asking why student council elections matter, why campus journalism must verify claims, why bullying thrives when people stay silent, or why “everyone does it” is the fastest excuse corruption can borrow. That is civic formation, but in the language of the hallway.

For schools that cannot declare an academic holiday—because of DepEd schedules, institutional constraints, or board decisions—there are still ways to avoid treating Feb. 25 as background noise. A half-day “institutional celebration” can be built into advisory periods: one hour for story, one hour for skills. The story part can be intergenerational: invite parents, alumni, or grandparents to share what they remember, then let students compare oral narratives with published accounts. The skills part can be a simple media-and-information literacy lab, aligned with UNESCO’s guidance on navigating digital content: verify, triangulate, and name the difference between evidence and opinion. Even a short classroom exercise—students must find two credible sources that agree on a claim and one source that contests it—can teach more “democracy” than a hundred posters with perfect fonts.

The real question behind the Feb. 25 holiday debate is about outcomes: what kind of young people are schools sending into society. The CEAP–CBCP statement points to governance failures, disinformation, and historical distortion as continuing threats. These are not distant problems. It shows up in subtle, daily ways, like a blog post calling someone out without proof, a fraudulent scholarship offer that takes personal information, or a viral quote card that turns a serious subject into a funny one-liner. In our country, where civic education has had trouble getting enough backing and false information is all over the place, researchers say that more civic education is needed. Schools can’t fix national politics, but they can teach students how to behave in it, such how to respect evidence, have the courage to challenge things, and be humble enough to admit when they’re wrong in public.

This is where the language of reflection and responsibility becomes practical. It is simply a rhythm: pause, examine, decide, act, and review. The CEAP–CBCP call invites schools to use Feb. 25 for activities that build ethical judgment and principled engagement. In the daily life of teachers, that means creating classrooms where students can disagree without humiliation, argue without lies, and think about the common good without turning it into a performance. A good commemoration does not demand identical politics. It demands honesty, empathy, and openness to evidence. That is not preaching. That is formation.

At 40, EDSA stands at an awkward age—old enough to become legend, young enough to be used as a political tool. Both carry danger. The better response is schooling that treats memory as a civic skill. Studies say commemorations matter when they mean something. Whether it is a holiday or not, Feb. 25 should become a real lesson. One habit—verify, listen, question—is enough to make the day count. Democracy needs more than anniversaries. It survives on what classrooms train students to do when nobody is watching.

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Doc H fondly describes himself as a ”student of and for life” who, like many others, aspires to a life-giving and why-driven world grounded in social justice and the pursuit of happiness. His views do not necessarily reflect those of the institutions he is employed or connected with.