Everything starts with planning. After the first orientation session with our FIC, Sir Ley, regarding the final requirement for EDS 199, I already had a few ideas forming in my mind. As someone already working at a private institution handling pre-school and elementary levels, I initially considered using my current workplace as the project site. It would have been convenient and familiar. However, I am genuinely grateful that Sir Ley encouraged us to extend our efforts beyond our comfort zones, to reach communities that would truly benefit from support. That push helped shift my mindset.

From there, I decided to reach out to my former elementary teacher—someone I remained close with—to ask if I could volunteer at Cecilio M. Saliba Elementary School (CMSES), a public school. Thankfully, they were open to it. With the project site now settled, I had to decide which department to work with: SPED or ALS (Alternative Learning System). While I had prior experience with SPED teachers, my curiosity leaned toward ALS. I realized I had very limited understanding of ALS learners and felt compelled to explore how inclusivity operates within this context. This reflection made me aware of my own assumptions—how inclusivity often defaults to SPED in our minds, overlooking other equally marginalized learner groups.

I contacted Sir John Durano, the head of the ALS department at CMSES, who turned out to be approachable and very responsive. Interestingly, he recognized me from when I represented our barangay during last year’s city pageant. When he asked why I chose ALS, I gave a sincere and personal answer. I told him, “Since I also am an advocate for inclusive education, I would like to immerse myself in other areas of inclusivity besides the inclusion of SPED students. I feel like ALS students have a lot of stories that are unheard, and it would be a sense of fulfillment to be able to help a program like ALS that provides aid and chances to those in need.”

Reflecting on that moment now, I realize how powerful and honest that exchange was—it revealed how deeply I value equity in education, even if I hadn’t fully articulated it before. It also helped solidify my motivation for choosing this track, turning it into something more than a project requirement. It became a personal mission.

Meeting the ALS learners affirmed that decision. Their stories, backgrounds, and learning needs revealed how critical it is for the education system to offer second chances and cater to diverse realities. The learners made me realize how many barriers exist outside traditional schooling—and how programs like ALS offer essential lifelines. One insight I gained is that education cannot be a one-size-fits-all system; real inclusivity means flexible, context-sensitive approaches.

Among the challenges I encountered was the lack of consistent data on students' learning needs. Sir John and I discussed this, and reading comprehension came up as a key area of concern. It was eye-opening to understand how foundational gaps, often left unaddressed in early education, can resurface in alternative systems like ALS. To address this, I began drafting an instructional design plan focused on differentiated reading activities that cater to various comprehension levels.

Moving forward, my action plan includes:

1. Conducting a needs assessment with the ALS learners using informal reading inventories.

2. Designing adaptive instructional materials based on the data gathered.

3. Collaborating continuously with Sir John to ensure relevance and alignment with ALS goals.

4. Reflecting weekly on my methods and adjusting based on feedback and observation.

Ultimately, this first phase of the project taught me that choosing the right site is not just about logistics—it’s about purpose. I am entering this project not just as a requirement, but as an opportunity to reimagine what inclusive education can truly look like when we open ourselves to listen, learn, and serve.