Our Shared Vocation

A Call for Professional Integrity and Peace

To my fellow educators and partners in service,

We are a community of mentors, joined by a shared Code of Ethics and a common mission to mold the future. As educators, many of us advocate for social justice and peace in our lessons every day. However, for these values to be authentic, they must first live within our own hallways and faculty rooms.

Lately, the weight of our profession has been made heavier by internal stresses and toxic dynamics that do not reflect who we are meant to be. It is time for us to collectively reaffirm our commitment to a workplace free from bullying and professional hostility.

Our Code of Ethics reminds us that our profession demands the highest spirit of courtesy and a deep respect for authority and order. When we allow toxicity to take root, we drift away from these foundational principles.

To protect our students and our own well-being, let us recommit to:

A Culture of Non-Violence:
As advocates of peace, we must resolve our conflicts
through open, professional dialogue
rather than through the stress of gossip or intimidation.

A Stand for Justice:
We teach our students that bullying is wrong.
We must hold ourselves to that same standard,
ensuring that no colleague feels marginalized
or targeted within our own community.

Respect for Professional Order:
Let us honor the structures of authority that guide our school,
settling disputes through the proper channels
with the maturity and grace our licenses require.

We are all facing the same challenges and the same exhaustion. Let us choose to be each other’s support system rather than another source of stress. Peace is not just the absence of conflict; it is the presence of justice and mutual respect.

By standing together against toxicity and choosing professional kindness, we prove that we are not just teachers of a curriculum, but true models of the character we wish to see in the world.

The Weight of the Distance: A PhD Journey

The year was 2008, but if I close my eyes, I can still smell the distinct scent of old books and humid rain that defines the University of Santo Tomas (UST) campus. To the outside world, I was a woman of opportunity—a scholar handpicked by Marist for a full ride. But inside, I was a mother living in a state of constant, quiet fracture.

My son was only six years old then. While I was navigating the rigorous corridors of Manila, my heart was 1,000 kilometers away in General Santos City.

The Double Burden of Ambition and Worry. Deciding to leave took me a full year of agonizing. When I finally said yes, I didn't realize that the hardest part wasn't the academic rigor; it was the homesickness. It wasn't just a longing for home; it was a physical ache. Every time my phone rang, my breath would catch. My son was asthmatic, and in the quiet of my Manila dorm, my mind would spiral: Is he breathing okay? Did they remember his nebulizer? Does he think I’ve abandoned him for a degree?

I spent four years as a ghost in my own life—
physically present in the library, but spiritually hovering over a bed in GenSan.
Today, those four years feel like a blur,
a "yesterday" that taught me the true meaning of sacrifice.

To the Mothers on the Same Road. If you are currently juggling the roles of researcher, teacher, wife, household treasurer, and student, I see you. The "mental load" you carry is heavier than any academic paperwork. Here is what I wish I could have told my 2008 self:

Forgive Your Divided Heart: You will feel guilty when you are studying because you aren't with your child. You will feel guilty when you are with your child because you aren't studying. Acceptance is your only shield: realize that being a "good mother" and an "ambitious scholar" are not mutually exclusive. You are modeling resilience for them.

The "Treasurer" Must Outsource: You cannot be the CEO of the household and a Ph D student simultaneously without breaking. If someone offers to help with the bills, the groceries, or the school runs—say yes. Pride is a heavy burden to carry alongside a struggle for a higher degree.

Trust the Roots You Planted: I worried my absence would break my bond with my son. It didn't. Children are remarkably perceptive. They see your hard work, and eventually, your "absence" transforms into an inspiring story of perseverance in their eyes.

A Year of Decision is Not Wasted Time: If it takes you a long time to decide to pursue your dream, that’s okay. It means you are weighing the cost. Once you commit, let that weight fuel your drive rather than pull you down.

Breathe Through the "Asthma" of Life: Just as I worried about my son's breathing, remember to check your own. The PhD is a marathon, not a sprint. If you feel like you’re suffocating under the pressure, step out of the library and call home. That voice on the other end is your "why."

The struggle of 2008 forged the woman I am today. The degrees on my CV is meaningful, but the fact that we survived the distance is my true greatest achievement.

The Moral Architecture of Transparency

Building a Flood-Proof Future

In the heart of the Philippines, when the floodwaters rise to meet the doorsteps of the poor, they do not just bring silt and debris; they bring the cold evidence of a broken promise. To understand why our streets are submerged, we must look past the rising tides and into the murky depths of governance and stewardship. As we look toward 2026, the issue of flood control must be reimagined—not as a series of engineering hurdles, but as a test of our national soul.

The Anatomy of a "Ghost" Project

From an economist’s view, transparency is the "oxygen" of a healthy market. Without it, corruption becomes a parasite. In recent years, we have seen the rise of "ghost projects"—infrastructure that exists on paper, is paid for by your taxes, but cannot be found on any map. When a budget is "submerged" in kickbacks (sometimes as high as 40%), the resulting project is destined to fail. This is not just a financial loss; it is a moral theft. It is the theft of a family’s safety, a child’s education, and a worker’s livelihood. Accountability is the only "levee" strong enough to hold back this tide of greed.

The Marist Call: Integrity as Mission

In the Marist tradition, our work is guided by the pillar of Integrity. St. Marcellin Champagnat believed in "doing good quietly," but he also believed in doing it honestly. To be a Marist mission partner in 2026 means moving beyond mere pity for the flooded. It means demanding Truth.

Simplicity and Honesty:

We are called to live simply so that others may simply live.
When leaders flaunt ill-gotten wealth while their constituents drown,
they violate the Family Spirit that binds us.

Presence with the Marginalized:

We do not view the flood from the safety of a balcony.
we stand in the mud with those whose lives have been upended.
Our mission is to be their voice in the halls of power,
demanding that "climate adaptation" becomes "climate justice."

Laudato Si’: Care for Our Common Home

Pope Francis reminds us in Laudato Si’ that "everything is connected." The clogged estero is connected to the corrupt contract; the denuded forest is connected to the greed of the illegal logger. We cannot fix the environment if we do not fix the heart. True flood control requires Integral Ecology—a solution that respects both the laws of nature and the dignity of the person. This means moving away from "concrete-only" solutions and toward Nature-Based Solutions: reforestation, protecting our wetlands, and allowing our rivers to breathe.

A Manifesto for the Student-Citizen

You are the generation that will redefine what it means to lead. To be a better voter and a better citizen, you must carry two tools in your backpack: a critical mind and a compassionate heart.

Demand Data, Not Drama:

Use your digital skills to track public funds.
Support initiatives like "Open Budgeting" and independent audits.
Transparency is the best disinfectant for corruption.

Vote for Stewardship:

Do not be swayed by the "style of the moment" or empty promises.
Look for leaders who have a track record of integrity
and a genuine love for the environment.

Live the "New Me":

Just as you are refining yourself for 2026,
help refine our nation. Be kind but firm against abuse;
be efficient but always ethical.

The water will recede,
but the marks it leaves on our character will remain.
Let us build a Philippines where, when the rain falls,
we can all sleep soundly—
not because we are lucky, but because we are honest.

My 2026 Manifesto

The Year of Living Deeply

As 2026 unfolds, I am not looking to reinvent myself into someone unrecognizable. Instead, I am refining the person I’ve always been—polishing the edges so I can shine without burning out. This is the year of the "Balanced Me."

Boundaried Kindness

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My core remains rooted in kindness, but this year, that kindness includes myself. I have learned that being "too kind" can sometimes be an invitation for others to overstep. In 2026, I will be a person of grace, but also a person of boundaries. I will give generously, but I will no longer allow my well to be pumped dry by those who do not respect the source. By protecting my peace, I ensure that the kindness I do give is sincere, not born of obligation.

Efficiency Over Exhaustion

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I have always valued hard work, but this year, I am redefining "efficiency." True efficiency isn't just about how much I can produce; it’s about how well I can sustain myself. I will work with focus and drive, but never at the expense of my health. Sleep, movement, and stillness are no longer "rewards" for finishing work—they are the fuel that makes the work possible.

The Return to Self

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For too long, I have put my passions on the shelf to make room for the needs of others. This is the year I pick those hobbies and collections back up. Whether it’s dusting off an old project or reorganizing a collection that once brought me joy, I am reclaiming the parts of my identity that have been sidelined. Caring for others is a virtue, but caring for "the self" is a necessity.

Stewardship and Legacy

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My gaze is also fixed on the horizon. I am saving—for my family’s comfort, for a secure future, and for the peace of mind that financial stability brings. But my responsibility extends beyond my front door. I commit to being "good for Mother Earth," making conscious choices that honor the environment. To be good for the world, I must first be good to the planet that sustains us all.

The Goal: To Truly Live

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I will hold fast to my core values—integrity, love, and resilience—but I will apply them with a new sense of vigor. 2026 is not about just surviving another calendar cycle or checking off a to-do list. It is about the radical act of living. I will breathe deeper, laugh harder, and exist with intention.

This is my year. And because I am taking care of the "me" at the center of it all, I will be better for my family, my community, and the world.

The Silent Choreography

Reflections on the Art of Environmental Management

To the uninitiated, "management" sounds like the language of cold offices and rigid ledgers. But for those who stand at the intersection of the built world and the wild one, management is the silent choreography of survival. For an environmental planner, to plan is not merely to organize; it is to engage in a profound dialogue with the future.

The Vision:

Planning as an Act of Hope

What is planning in management? In our field, it is the bridge built between a scarred present and a flourishing tomorrow. It is the refusal to let the landscape happen by accident. When we plan, we are asserting that the placement of a forest corridor or the density of a city block is an ethical choice. We are translating the chaotic needs of the present into a structured map of hope.

The Craft:

The Gentle Hand of Effective Planning

To plan effectively is to abandon the illusion of total control. Traditional management might demand a straight line, but the environmental planner knows that nature moves in cycles and curves. Effective planning is a balance of humility and precision. It is the "Adaptive Management" of a sailor—constantly adjusting the sails of policy and infrastructure to the shifting winds of climate and social demand. We do not impose our will upon the land; we negotiate with it. We listen to the soil, the water table, and the community, and we craft a strategy that allows both the eagle and the economy to find a home.

The Purpose:

Why We Manage

Why is this discipline so vital? Because without the framework of management, our environmental ideals are but ghosts—drifting without a body. Management gives our values gravity and form.

We plan

because resources are finite,

but human imagination is not.

We plan

because a river

cannot advocate for itself in a boardroom.

We plan

because the most beautiful landscape in the world

can be undone by a single decade

of thoughtless "progress."

In the end, you are not just learning to manage projects; you are learning to manage the delicate equilibrium of a planet. You are the architects of the "unbuilt," the guardians of the horizon, and the planners of a peace treaty between humanity and the Earth.

500-peso noche buena challenge

When the Department of Trade and Industry (DTI) dared to put a price tag of 500 pesos on Noche Buena, the uproar was deafening. Politicians and ordinary citizens alike cried foul, branding it an insult to Filipino tradition. But beneath the surface of this outrage lies a deeper, more uncomfortable truth about our values, our economy, and our capacity for collective introspection.

The DTI, in its advisory, likely sought to establish a baseline—a minimum threshold for a Christmas Eve meal accessible to even the most financially strapped families. To twist this into an intentional affront is not only a misreading of the DTI's mandate but also a disservice to their role in navigating the complex intersection of commerce and consumer welfare.

Our visceral reaction speaks volumes about what we hold sacred. Noche Buena is not just a meal; it's a tapestry woven with threads of family, unity, and abundance. The mere suggestion that this cherished tradition could be distilled into a 500-peso package strikes at the heart of our cultural identity. It challenges the idyllic image we've carefully constructed, forcing us to confront a less palatable reality.

This uproar also serves as a stark reminder of the economic anxieties that plague our nation. In an era of relentless inflation and stagnant wages, the specter of a meager Noche Buena looms large, casting a shadow on our collective aspirations. The DTI, in this context, becomes a convenient scapegoat—a lightning rod for our pent-up frustrations and economic insecurities.

But what if, instead of succumbing to knee-jerk outrage, we chose to channel our emotions into meaningful action? What if we demanded bold economic reforms that address the root causes of income inequality? What if we rallied behind local businesses and sustainable food initiatives that offer affordable alternatives?

The DTI's announcement, however clumsy or ill-timed, was not an act of malice. It was a mirror reflecting the economic disparities that continue to divide our nation. Let us not allow our emotions to blind us, but rather use them as fuel to ignite a movement for lasting change. Let us transform our outrage into a call for a more just and equitable society, where every Filipino family can celebrate Noche Buena with dignity and abundance.

flashback 2010: locos por el cine

unlike the japanese, french and european film fests- spanish filmfest wasn't shown for free
(but it was given at a price a third of the usual in the posh greenbelt cinema 3)

with my usual filmfest buddy ate irene, we tried catching one movie after attending the sunday mass...
as we waited for the screening we saw the oh-still-so-pretty-former-ms-universe-gloria diaz
with her (i guess) siblings waiting for the screening too :)

tickets! (@ 65 pesoses each, that's about a dollar and a half)

and this is a glimpse of the main character...
the movie - Los Condenados (The Condemned).
It somewhat explores history--- an exiled Argentinean returns home after living in Spain for
 many years to help a friend find the remains of a political activist who
disappeared during the Junta dictatorship...
[AMP! INTRIGUINGLY BROUGHT BACK WEIRD MEMORIES]