The power of perspective

By Herman M. Lagon

There is something quietly heavy about hitting a low point mid-year. Maybe you are a public school teacher on your fifth class, sweat dripping, trying to teach a lesson you crammed at 4 a.m. Or a college student staring at a borrowed laptop, turning in a paper that feels more like survival than learning. And you ask, “Para saan pa?” That is when mindset shows up—not as a trend, but as a quiet kind of lifeline. In a country where hardship is routine and comfort feels like a privilege, how we think can either drain us or help us hold on.

One helpful shift: life is not happening to us—it might be happening for us. It sounds soft, until you are in a DepEd line under the sun or stuck in another meeting that should have been a text. But as Psychiatrist Aaron Beck once said, the way we frame struggle changes how we get through it. For many overworked teachers, seeing challenges as training instead of punishment is sometimes the only way to keep showing up.

Another shift: we cannot always fix what happens, but we can choose how we respond. And often, that choice makes all the difference. A broken printer, a missed allowance, a student who forgot their module—every day brings its own test. But in that small space between trigger and reaction lies power. When my daughter failed a test in college, instead of scolding her, I brought her to a coffee shop, listened to her litany, and let her figure it out. That moment turned frustration into teamwork. In a culture where “toughing it out” is the norm, compassion is quiet rebellion.

Tiny, steady efforts matter more than we realize. Self-help author James Clear calls them “atomic habits”—small, consistent actions that shape who we become. A teacher I know used her weekends to learn Canva and ChatGPT so she could make better lessons. Slowly, her students’ performance improved. In a system where teachers often improvise just to keep things afloat, persistence becomes a form of resistance.

We also need to rethink failure. It is not the opposite of success—it is part of it. But in our culture, failure sticks like a label. One of my former students, once seen as a hopeless case, now works abroad and supports his family bigtime. What changed? A teacher who told him, “You are not a failure. You just have not figured it out yet.” That one line rewrote his story.

Focus also matters. What we look for, we find. If we expect problems, we will see them everywhere. But if we look for what is working, we may find enough to carry on. A teacher in Ateneo starts each class by naming small wins—“No one absent!” or “Everyone passes!” Simple as it is, it resets the room. Optimism here is not denial. It is strategy.

And maybe the most freeing shift of all: our past does not define us—our next choice does. To some, one mistake can stick for years. But people grow. One student, once branded the “pasaway,” now works as a doctor in the barrio. “I just got tired of being angry,” he told me. Everyone deserves a second chance—and a second lane.

To be clear, mindset is not magic. It does not excuse injustice. Teachers still need better pay. Students still need real support. But a growth mindset gives us breathing space. It reminds us we can be tired and still move forward. Stuck, but still trying. It is not a fix, but it helps us stay in the fight.

These mindset shifts are not new. You can find them in everyday homes: your 81-year-old lola sweeping the yard at dawn, your tupad-balay [neighbor] letting someone borrow rice without hesitation, the teacher printing quizzes with her own ink. These are not grand gestures. They are the quiet force holding this country together.

Mindset is not just personal—it spreads. A principal who chooses to fix instead of blame lifts a whole school. A tricycle driver who smiles through heat and debt lightens someone’s day. Small shifts ripple. They matter. Sometimes, one line can save you. A co-teacher once told me after a flop, “That was not a failure. That was a prototype.” It stuck. Mindset is not always loud. Often, it is just one better thought, one breath, one choice.

In the end, it is about choosing to show up, stay kind, and believe that something can still shift. In a country carried by everyday people, those small choices are everything. Because maybe changing your mindset is not about believing things will magically be okay—but about deciding to try anyway.

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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.