When Kristine Sapii walked into a Macomb classroom for the first time this past July, she carried with her more than lesson plans in biology and chemistry. She brought with her the stories, traditions, and perspectives of her homeland in the Philippines—gifts she is eager to share with her students and colleagues as part of an international teaching scholarship that allows her to live and teach in the United States for up to five years.

For Kristine, this is her very first time outside her country, and the opportunity is nothing short of life-changing. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience for me,” she says. “Something I can bring back to the Philippines and share with my colleagues.” She teaches four biology classes and two chemistry classes at Macomb, but her work extends well beyond the curriculum. By introducing Filipino culture—through language, food, national dress, and even the small habits of everyday life—she is expanding her students’ worldviews in ways no textbook can.

In her hometown of Zamboanga City, Mindanao, Kristine taught science for ten years across three different public high schools. Class sizes were daunting: often more than 40 students, sometimes as many as 68 in a single class. By comparison, her classes in Macomb feel intimate, but the contrasts go deeper. “Here, the curriculum is advanced,” she observes. American students study a full year of biology or chemistry, while in the Philippines, the curriculum spirals—covering biology, chemistry, physics, and psychology each in shorter units. Technology is another striking difference: “We don’t have Smart Boards, Clever, or McGraw Hill platforms. We rely on modules. Here, everything is precise, every minute of time is valued”.

Kristine’s visa requires her to share her culture with her students, a responsibility she embraces with joy. On her first days, she wore a Filipiniana, the national dress of the Philippines, prompting curious questions from students who marveled at its puffed sleeves and colorful patterns. She teaches them greetings in Tagalog—“Magandang umaga” for good morning—and shares the many dialects of her region, including Chavacano, a “broken Spanish” unique to Zamboanga. Her students pepper her with questions: What food do you eat? What are your snacks like? What are the beaches like in the Philippines? She laughs as she explains that in her country, puffed corn chips like Cheetos are called “curls”.

The cultural differences are everywhere, from grocery store self-checkouts to self-service gas stations, both of which surprised her at first. Even the pace of life feels different. “Here it’s slow, quiet, no pollution, very rural. In our barangay alone, the population is four times more than here,” she notes. She carries an umbrella in the summer sun—a common Filipino habit—and delights in comparing food customs, where rice is the staple back home, while salads are more common in the U.S.

Though she came alone—her husband remains in the Philippines overseeing the construction of their home—Kristine has quickly found friendship and welcome in Macomb. She was surprised to meet students and another teacher who also share her Filipino heritage, proof that even far from home, connections emerge in unexpected places. “Everyone is friendly, warm, and accommodating. It feels like everyone is a friend to me,” she says.

The opportunity also comes with responsibility. Kristine sees herself as a cultural ambassador, tasked not only with learning from American education but also with carrying those insights back to her country. During school breaks, she plans to return to the Philippines to share what she has learned with her colleagues. “This will enrich my career as a teacher,” she explains. “When I go back, I can show them what I’ve learned here, the techniques, and the ways you value every moment of class”.

Macomb students are benefiting now. Every question they ask, every story Kristine shares, is a reminder that the world is wider than the horizon they see from their classroom windows. And in turn, Kristine is experiencing firsthand the warmth of a Midwestern community that is as curious about her culture as she is about theirs.

Her story is one of exchange, of learning that flows both ways across oceans. For Macomb, it is a rare and remarkable gift: a teacher whose passion for science is matched only by her passion for building bridges across cultures.