By Herman M. Lagon
The quadrangle of St. Augustine Catholic School in Dumangas carried a quiet buzz of curiosity. Teachers, parents, and classmates settled into their seats, waiting for the town’s first Oxford–Oregon debate — Saltikanay: Paindisanay sang Kaalam. These students were not chasing the bragging rights alone. They were testing how ideas and teamwork could shape their outlook on the world. From my seat as judge, I could see the deeper prize: skills they could take anywhere.
Debate is where the “4Cs” — communication, creativity, critical thinking, and collaboration — come alive. They are buzzwords in schools, but in contests like this they stop being abstract. Communication is tested in clarity; creativity in finding new angles; critical thinking in weighing facts; collaboration in trusting one’s team. To see how this works, imagine a motion the students could have faced: whether the impeachment of Vice President Sara Duterte should be pursued under the 1987 Constitution.
It is the kind of issue that divides even senators and lawyers, yet it perfectly shows the 4Cs in motion. On the Pro side, students would need to argue necessity: that the P125 million confidential funds spent in just 11 days with over 1,200 deficient receipts, flagged by the Commission on Audit, may amount to betrayal of public trust or even a violation of the Constitution. They would need to explain that impeachment is not about criminal conviction but about political accountability, as the UP Law Primer stresses. For young debaters, that means turning audit reports into stories people can understand. That is communication and creativity at work.
The Cons would need to stress practicability. They could cite the Supreme Court’s July 2025 ruling voiding the impeachment under the “one-year bar.” They would argue that pursuing it now would be unconstitutional, and that other forums like the Ombudsman or COA must first complete their work. This forces students to think critically — not about what feels right, but what is legally possible. They must learn to explain why waiting today may lead to stronger accountability tomorrow.
Working with such motions is not about taking sides. It is about training students to wrestle with facts, frameworks, and fairness. They learn to spot fallacies—whether it is hasty generalizations from audit notes or whataboutism in defense. They discover that critical thinking is not in beating the other side but in staying true to sound reasoning. It becomes real when a debater stumbles, admits it, and finds a firmer voice after.
Collaboration is the glue. Each speech is built by classmates who prepare the ground. The best teams win as one. The strongest ones win because they function like a whole organism, each part carrying weight. For students, this is the reminder that in both debate and democracy, no one can stand alone.
After the finals, I stayed with the students for a quick processing, guidance counselor style. Many confessed that the format was new and the struggle was real. Still, they understood why so many people gravitate toward debate. The excitement lingered in the room like electricity. They saw how matter—the content—was only one part of it. Manner and method mattered too. They learned the power of authenticity. The sharpest lines came unplanned, the pauses sincere, the laughter real. That was when their arguments breathed.
Yet debate has risks. It sharpens tongues, but without conscience it can wound. History remembers leaders who bent words for power, and even small contests tempt speakers to chase applause over truth. This is why debate must always be paired with discernment — the reminder that skills are for service, not manipulation. The goal is not to raise cunning politicians, but thoughtful citizens.
That balance was visible in Dumangas. When pressed with tough interpellations, the best debaters did not bluff. They admitted what they did not know and redirected with humility. That humility, paired with courage, is debate’s hidden gift. It hurts to lose before peers, yet it toughens the spirit. It shows that failure is feedback, not defeat. As Carol Dweck’s research on growth mindset points out, embracing setbacks builds intelligence over time. Debate is one of the best arenas for that growth.
The quadrangle itself carried that lesson. Beneath its modest canopy, young voices wrestled with motions on dynasties and divorce, among others. These were not idle exercises. They were rehearsals for the responsibilities the youth will carry as voters, professionals, and leaders. For Dumangas, staging this competition was a statement: our youth deserve not only classrooms, but platforms where their ideas matter. Credit goes to SK Chair Jerold Declaro, a former student of mine, for proving that debate belongs not just in universities but in barangays.
St. Augustine Catholic School took home the trophy, but the greater victory was shared. Parents saw their children as future citizens, not just learners. Teachers rediscovered the joy of going beyond textbooks. They realized that dialogue changes apathy into agency. Debate does not answer all problems, but it grows the habits of listening and reasoning together. In a country often split, that is strength.
That Friday in Dumangas proved something simple yet profound: debate is not about defeating an opponent but about discovering clarity together. When students argue necessity, beneficiality, and practicability on thorny issues, they are not just chasing points. They are learning how to hold democracy with steady hands. Debate, done well, is both art and discipline — an exercise in building not only sharper speakers, but wiser citizens. And that is a victory far greater than any medal.