Over the weekend, I finished Teach You a Lesson in several nights. The Netflix hit from South Korea has the whole world talking, and for good reason. Brutal ang premise: kapag walang magawa ang paaralan sa pagprotekta sa guro o estudyante, pumapasok na sa eksena si Kim Moo-yul, na siyang bida bilang Na Hwa-jin sa series. It’s fiction dressed up as a thriller. Pero ang takot na nasa tema nito ay totoo.

Pinanood ko ito the way a lot of viewers did—nakagagalit at nakakainis, nagre-resonate, kasi naranasan ko rin ito. Na-bully din ako noong bata pa ako. But that’s a story for another day. And anyone who says bullying ends at graduation has never sat in on a corporate boardroom. Hindi phase ang bullying. It’s a pattern that follows people from the schoolyard to the office, and it does real damage at every stop.

Then the screen went dark, and the real thing arrived. Noong umaga ng June 22, 2026, dalawang estudyante ang pumasok sa San Jose National High School sa Tacloban at nagpaputok. Three children were killed. Thirteen others were wounded. Ang nakabibigla, napakabata ng mga salarin. Edad katorse at kinse. Mantakin mo 'yan! Investigators recovered around 40 spent shells and a police-issued handgun. Ang unang basa ng mga pulis sa motibo: hinanakit, na ang ugat diumano’y bullying. The drama I’d just watched stopped being a drama.

Here’s the first bald truth: bullying is never just a subplot. Namumuo ito. Kapag hindi hinarap, it curdles into something that can end lives—the victim’s or everyone else’s. A country that treats it as a normal rite of passage is leaving a fuse lit and walking away.

Dalawang senador, dalawang sagot

Within hours, parehong nagsalita ang dalawang mambabatas. It’s worth laying out honestly, dahil parehong may hinahabol na totoo ang dalawa.

A quick, slightly embarrassing footnote first. Ang dalawang senador na ngayon ay mariing nagsasalita kung paano poprotektahan ang mga bata mula sa bullying ay, ilang linggo pa lang ang nakalipas... parang elementary din, sabi ng iba. Noong Mayo, sa gitna ng plenaryo, tinaasan ng boses ni Pangilinan si Padilla—“For the record, Mr. President, I still have the floor!”. Tumayo si Padilla at nagbantang magfa-file ng ethics complaint, at nagtatanong kung may patakaran bang puwedeng sigawan ang isang kapwa senador. Ang sagot ni Kiko? Huwag daw maging balat-sibuyas—mag-file ka kung gusto mo, may counter-complaint pa ako. Footnote lang ito, pero may relevance din sa nangyayari ngayon.

If two of the most powerful adults in the country can turn a debate into a who-raised-his-voice-first standoff, paano natin aasahan ang isang 14 or 15-anyos na malagpasan ito nang mag-isa? Bullying—or the wounded pride that looks a lot like it—doesn’t graduate. It just changes venues: from the classroom, to the boardroom, to the Senate floor. The people writing the rules are not above the very dynamic they’re trying to legislate.

Senator Robin Padilla wants the Juvenile Justice and Welfare Act amended, and fast. Sa ilalim ng Republic Act 9344, ang mga batang 15 pababa ay exempted sa criminal liability, so the 14-year-old shooter will face social-welfare intervention rather than prosecution. Para kay Padilla, hindi ito katanggap-tanggap. He wants to lower the minimum age of criminal responsibility to 10, argues the youth-crime caseload is now “in our faces,” and says an incident like Tacloban warrants a special session. Diretso ang kaso niya: kung kaya ng isang bata na magpaputok ng 40 rounds sa pasilyo, the law cannot pretend that the child cannot be held responsible.

Senator Francis “Kiko” Pangilinan, the law’s principal author, says it’s being misread. Iginiit niyang may pananagutan na ang menor de edad sa ilalim ng RA 9344; it is illegal, he says, to simply release a child involved in a crime. May proseso, may interventions para hindi maulit, at may pananagutan din ang magulang at ang pamahalaan. His point: the failure in Tacloban wasn’t the law on paper but its implementation on the ground—and he warns against answering tragedy with fear and disinformation.

Where they meet, and where they miss

Strip away the politics, and the two agree on more than they admit. Parehong tinatanggihan ang kuwentong walang konsekwensya para sa menor de edad. Both want children protected. Ang tunay na hati ay pilosopikal: Padilla is betting that a lower age of liability will deter and punish; Pangilinan is betting that a properly funded, properly enforced system will prevent. Parusa kontra prevention. Deterrence versus implementation.

At ito ang pangalawang bald truth: walang iisang batas ang sasapat para pigilan ang trahedya noong umagang iyon. Ang pagbaba ng edad ng criminal liability ay hindi nakababawi ng putok; it only decides what we do after three children are already dead. Leaving a broken system unfunded does not prevent the next grudge from arming itself. Ang korte, gaano man kahigpit, ay nasa pinakadulo ng mahabang kadena ng kapalpakan—the missed bullying report, the unanswered cry for help, ang baril na hindi dapat naabot ng isang 14-anyos—sa kasong ito, isang 9mm na isyu sa pulis na tiyahin mismo ng bata. Relieved na siya sa puwesto at hinaharap ang kriminal at administratibong kaso dahil sa kabiguang i-secure ang kanyang armas.

Ano ba talaga ang nagpoprotekta sa classroom

Kung seryoso tayo, the conversation cannot begin and end at the age of a criminal complaint. May Anti-Bullying Act na tayo; the question is whether one overworked guidance counselor can enforce it across a thousand students. Mental health support in schools is still treated as a luxury, hindi imprastraktura o sistema. We should be asking paano nakarating sa kamay ng isang teenager ang isang police-issued na baril, and what our gun controls and our homes are failing to do. Dapat din nating tanungin ang papel ng social media. These are less satisfying than a soundbite about jailing 10-year-olds.

Kabilang ako sa isang TV network. I know how a single dramatic frame can move a nation faster than following documents and papers. Kumita na malamang ng pera at audience ang Teach You a Lesson because it gave people the catharsis of seeing a bully finally answered. But catharsis is not a child-protection policy. Sa palagay ko, ang proteksyon ngayon ay mapurol, mahirap o wala talaga: sanay na guro, funded counselors, enforced rules, nakatagong baril, and parents and agencies that answer the first warning—hindi libing.

So debate the law. Timbangin ang mga proposals ni Padilla at Pangilinan. And measure every proposal against one question, and only one: makakauwi ba nang buhay at walang pasa sa katawan ang mga bata mula sa eskuwela?

That is the standard.

We owe our children classrooms that are safe sanctuaries, not crime scenes—at may utang tayo sa sarili na katapatang aminin na protecting them will take more than a headline and a harsher sentence.

Protektahan muna ang classroom. Everything else is just the autopsy.