THERE is a convenient response now being thrown at teachers and others who criticized Palace Press Officer Undersecretary Claire Castro over her controversial remarks about teachers: she said “some teachers,” not “all teachers.”
Some Marcos vloggers and even academics have gone further, suggesting that those who were offended simply lack comprehension.
That defense misses the point. We understand perfectly well what “some teachers” means. We know that “some” does not mean “all.” The problem is not that Castro was misunderstood. The problem is that even when her words are understood exactly as she said them, the statement remains objectionable.
During the Malacañang press briefing on August 18, 2026, while discussing the shooting at Ateneo de Zamboanga University, Castro said: “Minsan na po nating nakita, mismo ang ibang mga guro ay lumalabag sa ganitong klase ng moralidad. Sila minsan ay ang nagtuturo sa kanilang mga estudyante kung papaano maging walang modo, lalong-lalo na sa mga nakakatanda o sa mga ibang tao.”
In English, Castro was essentially saying that “some teachers” themselves violate this kind of morality and sometimes teach their students how to be disrespectful, particularly toward elders and other people. She later clarified that she was not blaming teachers as a whole and described her statement as a reminder. That clarification deserves to be acknowledged. Castro did not say that all teachers behave this way.
But that does not settle the issue. It merely brings us to the real question: Who are these “some teachers”?
Consider how the same construction sounds when applied elsewhere. Suppose someone declares that “some PBBM vloggers deliberately lie to their followers.” The statement does not accuse every PBBM vlogger of lying, but any one of them may reasonably ask who is being accused and on what basis.
Or suppose we say that “some UP professors have poor comprehension.” We have not accused every professor at the University of the Philippines, but we have nevertheless attached a negative characterization to an undefined group within that community.
The same principle applies to teachers. Saying “some teachers” may technically avoid accusing every teacher, but when no clear boundary is drawn around who those “some” are, every teacher becomes a possible member of the category. Perhaps you are not one of them. Perhaps you are. The speaker has left that question hanging over the profession.
This is why dismissing offended teachers as people who lack comprehension is particularly unfair. Their objection does not require them to believe that “some” means “all.” They may understand Castro perfectly and still object to the way an undefined category of teachers was introduced and negatively characterized in a national discussion.
More importantly, the argument over “some” and “all” risks obscuring a far more serious problem with Castro’s intervention: the context in which she made it.
The country was confronting school shootings in Tacloban and Zamboanga. In the Tacloban case, authorities investigated the circumstances surrounding a licensed firearm linked to a police officer that was allegedly used in the attack. In Zamboanga, the Bureau of Customs said that a firearm used by the student shooter was issued to his father, a Customs Police personnel. The BOC relieved and placed the father under preventive suspension while questions concerning firearm custody and safekeeping were investigated.
These facts should force us to ask where the most urgent questions of accountability lie. In both incidents, the teachers were not the lawful custodians of the firearms. The weapons did not originate from teachers. The teachers were not the government personnel being investigated over how firearms under adult custody became accessible to minors.
Yet amid this discussion, “some teachers” who supposedly teach students to be disrespectful entered the government’s public framing of the problem.
Why?
This is not to suggest that firearm access alone explains school violence. Such violence is complex. Family circumstances, bullying, mental and emotional distress, social media, school security and many other factors deserve serious examination.
Teachers themselves unquestionably have responsibilities for the welfare and formation of their students.
But responsibility must follow evidence. If a particular teacher committed misconduct, identify the misconduct, establish the facts and hold that individual accountable. That is how accountability should work.
What should not happen is for a vague category of “some teachers” to become a convenient moral explanation while a much more concrete question arising from the incidents remains before us: How did firearms entrusted to adults, including law-enforcement personnel, become accessible to children?
That question matters because the responsibility attached to a firearm is unlike an ordinary household obligation. Police officers and other government personnel authorized to possess or carry firearms are entrusted with potentially lethal weapons precisely because the state expects them to exercise extraordinary care over their possession, storage and use.
When such a weapon reaches the hands of a child and is allegedly used in violence, firearm custody is not a peripheral matter. It is central to the investigation of what went wrong.
Teachers already shoulder responsibilities far beyond classroom instruction. They work amid overcrowded classrooms, inadequate resources, administrative burdens and the daily task of educating children who bring into school the pressures and problems of families and communities.
They deserve scrutiny when scrutiny is warranted, but they also deserve fairness. They should not become convenient moral suspects simply because an official can point to an unspecified group of “some teachers.”
There is also something troubling about using “comprehension” as a weapon against those who question government language. Comprehension is not merely the ability to distinguish “some” from “all.” It also involves understanding context, implication, relevance and consequence. Citizens are entitled to ask not only what an official literally said, but why it was said, what evidence supports it, and whether it properly addresses the issue before the public.
Perhaps the defenders of Castro should therefore try their own test. If someone said that “some police officers teach violence,” “some PBBM vloggers deliberately deceive people,” or “some UP professors lack comprehension,” would members of those groups simply shrug because the speaker had inserted the word “some”? Or would they reasonably ask: Who exactly are you talking about, and what is your evidence?
Teachers deserve the same consideration.
The debate should therefore move beyond the semantic refuge of “some teachers, not all teachers.” Yes, we heard Castro correctly. Yes, we understand what she meant by “some teachers.” And yes, her statement can still be criticized as misplaced, imprecise and unfair to a profession that was unnecessarily drawn into the framing of these tragedies.
The harder question remains unanswered. How did children gain access to firearms that they should never have been able to touch?
Tacloban raised that question. Zamboanga raised it again. Government should confront it directly and follow the evidence wherever it leads.
Teachers should not be used as a diversion from that responsibility.
Their comprehension was never the problem.
The finger was pointed in the wrong direction. (davaotoday.com)
