Sonny Side Up Again

By Herman M. Lagon

It was more than a reshuffling; it was a recalibration. When President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. requested courtesy resignations from his Cabinet last Thursday, May 22, 2025, it was widely seen as a political necessity. Few anticipated that Sonny Angara—the unassuming, high-performing technocrat leading the Department of Education (DepEd)—would step down without resistance in that same day. But the bigger surprise was not his resignation; it was the near-immediate groundswell urging his possible return. Educators, policy groups, and ordinary citizens spoke in unison: unless someone more prepared, more grounded, and more committed comes along, why let go of someone who has already proven he can deliver?

In a country where confidence in leadership flickers as often as the lights in storm-battered barangays, the clamor for Angara’s reinstatement stands out. The Catholic Educational Association of the Philippines (CEAP) did not merely commend his work—they lobbied for continuity. So did business education groups and teachers’ alliances. And for good reason. In just ten months, Angara brought back something rare to DepEd: clarity, coherence, and credibility. These should not be considered luxuries in public service—they are necessities.

Sonny Angara is no miracle worker. He is neither flamboyant like the late Raul Roco nor cloaked in symbolism like Br. Armin Luistro. But what he lacks in flair, he makes up for in substance. A product of rigorous academic formation—from Xavier School to the London School of Economics, UP Law, and Harvard—Angara had options. He could have chosen safer roles or returned to the Senate. Instead, he embraced one of the toughest posts in government. He brought his preparation home, not as a badge, but as a tool.

For many Filipino teachers who juggle lesson plans, administrative forms, and sometimes second jobs, Angara’s short stint felt like a reprieve. He was present. He was responsive. He pushed for funding realigned to actual classroom needs, using real-time data. In Cagayan de Oro, materials reached teachers ahead of schedule. In Samar, school heads noted a cut in red tape. These were not grand reforms, but they were tangible. And in education, consistent small victories build real momentum.

More than the policies, it is Angara’s approach that resonated. He backed reforms like the national assessment overhaul with focus, not fanfare. Rather than fixating on test scores, he advocated diagnostic tools teachers could actually use. Echoing education reformers like Dylan Wiliam, Angara knew that good feedback empowers teachers and students alike. He also invited independent reviews of the K to 12 program—a bold move many avoided for fear of controversy.

His resignation last May 22, though principled, created a pause at a critical moment. And in the Department of Education, pauses come at a cost. Timelines blur. Budgets freeze. Programs lose traction. In Mindoro, parents still await promised tablets. In Zamboanga, literacy projects have stalled. These are not mere anecdotes—they are reminders that leadership changes have ripple effects. Continuity, unless outmatched by capability, is not just efficient—it is essential.

Which brings us to a reasonable proposition: unless there is someone demonstrably better—in qualifications, in preparation, in ethical grounding, and in vision—why not continue what is working? Reappointing Angara is not blind loyalty; it is intelligent governance. It is a signal that results outweigh routines and that merit still matters in the Cabinet.

What sets Angara apart is his ability to make policy personal. In a forum speech, he once said, “Every percentage point becomes a classroom, a reading corner, a better chance at life.” That was not a line for applause—it was an ethic. He humanizes data. He makes numbers mean something. And in public service, that is the kind of connection that leads to better policies.

Angara is not a performer. He does not choreograph school visits for the cameras. His leadership mirrors what educational theorist Michael Fullan calls “slow-burn change”—measured, inclusive, and anchored in long-term vision. It does not trend, but it works. And if we are serious about fixing education, then our leaders cannot be chosen based on their social media mileage.

Of course, no one expects him to fix everything. DepEd remains a maze of bureaucracy and imbalance. There are still hiring irregularities, resource gaps, and overloaded classrooms. But Angara has begun the work. Perhaps more importantly, he has raised the bar. He has set the tone—that in this Cabinet, technical expertise and moral integrity must not be negotiable.

Let us not forget the wider context. For countless Filipino families—tricycle drivers, market vendors, OFWs—education remains their only leverage for a better future. They are not asking for miracles. They are asking for fairness, for access, for dignity. They need someone who does not just make promises, but maps out how to keep them.

Angara is that kind of public servant. He does not flinch in the face of hard truths. He does not dodge accountability. He gets to work. And when someone with his credentials chooses to lead a department often described as a bureaucratic labyrinth, it is not for status—it is for service.

President Marcos made a forward-looking choice in appointing him. Now, he has the opportunity to make an even more defining one: to reappoint him—or only replace him with someone truly better. In doing so, the president affirms that performance, preparation, and integrity remain the standard.

So the real question is not whether Angara deserves to stay. It is whether we can afford to lose someone like him—unless a better leader, by all objective measures, is ready to step up. Until then, the mission remains. And the best way forward may still be the one already in motion.

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Doc H calls himself a ”student of and for life” and, like many others, wants a life-giving, why-driven world dedicated to social justice and happiness. His views may not reflect those of his employers or associates.