Three decades of teaching: Reflections on being a professor


ENDEAVOR

Sonny Coloma

October is observed worldwide as the month of teachers, following the United Nations’ observance of World Teacher’s Day on Oct. 5.

Teaching has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life, not only as a profession but as a calling. I began teaching part-time to undergraduates at St. Scholastica’s College and Colegio de San Juan de Letran while working at Far East Bank in Intramuros in the mid-seventies.

In 1988, I was invited to teach at the Asian Institute of Management (AIM) where I obtained my Master in Business Management (MBM) degree. My 28-year service at AIM, where I taught from 1988 to 2016, was marked by moments of deep fulfillment, challenges, and growth, both for my students and myself. It gave me a platform from which I became a professor, a management consultant, and a senior government official.

While taking several sabbaticals during that time, including 10 years devoted to working for three Presidents of the Philippines, my identity as a teacher has profoundly reshaped me as a person. 

The role of a teacher is complex and multifaceted, yet it carries with it a profound sense of purpose. Throughout my years of teaching, I have come to realize that being a teacher is not just about imparting knowledge but about inspiring curiosity, critical thinking, and a sense of responsibility in my students. It is about cultivating a learning environment that encourages questioning, dialogue, and growth — an environment where students are not only prepared for the rigors of management but are also equipped to navigate the uncertainties of a rapidly changing world.

Teaching through the case method enabled me to acquire mental discipline. By continually asking three questions – What?;  So what?; and Then what? – I learned how to analyze situations, identify problems, make decisions, and anticipate possibilities that could likely reshape realities. This was imbibed during my two-year MBA education at AIM; it was continually honed and polished through nearly three decades of service as a professor. 

Fortunately, consulting that involved teaching managers how to run organizations, and manage people, was an integral part of the AIM concept of professorship. My interaction with CEOs and senior executives of organizations in the corporate, government and civil society spheres, enabled me to gain fresh insights and unique perspectives that were superior to book learning. 

One of the most important lessons I have learned over the years is that to be an effective teacher, one must first be a lifelong learner. The field of management is constantly evolving, and educators have to stay ahead of the curve, continuously updating our knowledge and skills. Learning is also obtained from the crucible of experience, in day-to-day real-life interaction with people. True learning requires humility, a recognition that no matter how much we know, there is always more to learn – and that there are always more knowledgeable, and skillful people that we will encounter.

But I also learned from the learners I was teaching.

One of my students made me realize the profound impact of grades on one who was aspiring to be a successful business executive. She was one of more than 150 students in Development of Enterprise, a required course in the second year of the MBA program. “Professor,” she told me gently, “I honestly believe I deserved to get higher than the Pass you gave me.” Pass was the verbal equivalent of 82 percent in the AIM grading scale.

I was stunned into silence. I realized I could not respond to her in any other way than to accept that she was correct. Then I heard myself  telling her, “Many years from now, you will look back at your MBA years and realize that the lessons you learned are more important than the grades you received.” How I wish I could have an opportunity to meet her again to know how she has fared since then.

In 2008, when I resumed teaching after taking a sabbatical as a corporate executive, I adopted an entirely different grading policy. Instead of allocating percentages to class participation, papers and exams, I told the students that I would grade them on the basis of their best performance. If they excelled in class recitation, then I was willing to discard their so-so performance in exams. If they did well in exams – which reflects their ability in written analysis, then this would not be pulled down by lower ratings in class recitation.

After I announced this grading policy, I notice that their interest in learning increased significantly. In every class meeting, most of them submitted reflection papers on the assigned materials, even if this was purely optional. The quality of their class participation also improved dramatically. Uncannily, I seem to have tapped into a rich lode of inspiration and motivation.

One of the lessons I sought to impart to my students was this: “Take a stand. It is tempting to simply opt for the middle ground in decision-making, while seeking to avoid risks that could lead to major failures.” Years before, in the mid-nineties, Robert Barth, president of Rotary International, framed this in a call to action: “Believe in what you do. Do what you believe in.”

Relatedly, I remember a quotation from an Asian leader that I learned in my days as a UP student activist: “Failure is the mother of success. A fall in the pit equals a gain in the wit.” This is the essence, too, of the Silicon Valley mantra of rapid experimentation, “on discovering a problem's solutions through leap-of- faith assumptions.”

I express my deep gratitude to my alma mater, the Asian Institute of Management, for being my home for 28 years as professor, during which I also served in the Cabinet of Presidents Corazon Aquino, Joseph Ejercito Estrada, and Benigno S. Aquino III. This unique experience has taught me the importance of adaptability, resilience, and the ability to learn from failure. Management, after all, is not a static discipline but one that thrives on innovation, reflection, and a deep understanding of human behavior.