27/09/2026
"๐จ ๐ป๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐พ๐๐๐๐ ๐ณ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ถ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฌ๐๐๐๐ ๐ช๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐"
Some teachers leave footprints on the classroom floor. Others leave something far more lastingโtheir words, their wisdom, and the quiet influence that follows us long after the school bell rings.
For me, Sir Gidion Uy is one of those teachers.
My journey as an STE student has been a tapestry of lessons, challenges, and moments that shaped the person I am becoming. Yet among the many faces I have encountered along the way, his is one I know I will remember for years to come. He was my Biotech teacher in Grade 8, my Science teacher and adviser in Grade 9, and my ICT teacher in Grade 10. Three school years, three different roles, and countless lessons that reached far beyond the pages of a book.
As a Biotech teacher, he opened our eyes to the intricate wonders of life itself. He taught us not only the science of cells and genes, but also the art of curiosityโthe courage to ask, to explore, and to see the extraordinary in the ordinary. His humor and sarcasm often filled the classroom with laughter, turning ordinary days into moments of joy. Yet behind every joke was a teacher who knew when to be serious, when to challenge us, and when to remind us that learning was not meant to be easy.
As a Science teacher and adviser, he became more than a mentorโhe became a guide through the growing pains of being a student. His payo was more than simple reminders; they became words I could return to whenever I felt uncertain, discouraged, or overwhelmed. Sometimes, a teacher does not need a long speech to make a difference. Sometimes, a few sincere words, spoken at the right moment, can become a light we carry through difficult days.
As an ICT teacher, he opened another doorโthis time through photography. He taught us that photography is not only about capturing images, but about telling stories. It is about finding meaning in the details, about seeing beyond the picture itself, and about weaving emotion, perspective, and truth into every frame. Through his guidance, I discovered that storytelling is not confined to words; sometimes, it lives in the silent language of images.
But perhaps the most unforgettable lesson he gave us was not written in any paper, nor captured in any photograph. It was spoken in a single line, a reminder of both fragility and responsibility:
โLifeโs too short, donโt make it shorter.โ
Those words, simple yet profound, echo far beyond the classroom walls. They remind us to live wisely, to choose carefully, and to value the time we are given. They remind us that every decision carries weight, and that our livesโlike photographsโare stories waiting to be told with meaning.
Now, as I spend my final year of junior high school, I look back with gratitude. It is almost bittersweet to realize how much can change in just a few school yearsโhow students grow, how dreams begin to take shape, and how teachers who once stood in front of us become part of the memories we carry into the future.
Yet some things remain.
The lessons.
The laughter.
The advice.
The stories.
And the gratitude.
Through Sir Gidion, I have learned that education is not only about preparing for a career or solving a difficult problem. It is about becoming a person who knows how to face life with courage, humility, and purpose. He may be humorous and sarcastic most of the time, but behind those familiar moments is a teacher whose words have helped me see things differently. A teacher who has shared not only what he knows, but also what life has taught him. A teacher who, in his own way, has reminded me that every challenge can become a lesson, and every lesson can become a step toward something greater.
Because some teachers teach us what to learn.
Some teach us how to think.
But the teachers we remember most are the ones who teach us how to keep going.
And for me, Sir Gidion Uy will always be one of them.
Written by: Irrah Romelle Gicole
STE-10
