by rossanahead | Aug 11, 2011 | children, Education, family, Lyra Pore, parenting, woman
By Lyra Pore
Hogwarts. Quidditch. Wands and spells. The first time the Harry Potter series hit bookstores back in the late ‘90s, I couldn’t stand the books.
“I’m too old for this.” I dismissed Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone after just a few pages of reading the book. If the series had been published when I was in high school, I would have loved it. But I was by then a new mom to a baby girl ― my world was filled with diapers and formula, not owls, wizards and some fictional beings misguided by a Nazi-like obsession with the purity of species.
Last Christmas, however, my baby girl who had since turned ten received the children’s edition of the complete Harry Potter set for Christmas. Keen to find some bonding moments with her, I picked up the Philosopher’s Stone and tried reading it again.
I couldn’t have chosen a more auspicious time to take up Harry Potter. My daughter, just like Harry in the first book, was turning 11 in a few days. And like Percy Weasley, Ron’s older brother, she’d just been elected school prefect.
Over the next two months, the two of us would explore the Harry Potter world together. It would soon become a family affair too, as my husband and our other children would join us in watching the film adaptation each time we finished a book. Not only did we form a mother-daughter book club, we’d also organized family Friday Night Movies. We’d all sit on the couch on Fridays, watch the Harry Potter DVD and talk about how the movie differed from the book.
“It wasn’t Neville Longbottom who gave Harry the gillyweed in Goblet of Fire. It was Dobby!”
“How come the other elf Winky wasn’t in any of the movies?”
At times, our Harry Potter journey turned into a writing lesson. My daughter, who was starting to develop an interest in fiction writing, would comment on J.K. Rowling’s style and how it differed from that of Rick Riordan, author of the Percy Jackson series. I worked in publishing; I took delight in talking about books especially with my children.
The excitement over the release of Deathly Hallows 2 took over our household. My husband would buy our girls Harry Potter souvenirs that were being sold with every purchase of a local newspaper. The family also organized a weekend trip to an IMAX theatre to watch the movie in 3D. Making a day of it, we set out at 9 a.m., picked up some friends who were also going to the movies with us, went to lunch at a restaurant just a short walk from the cinema, and spent the rest of the afternoon not just enjoying the last movie of the series but savouring gelato that IMAX moviegoers could get free for each scoop they bought.
“Lord Voldemort’s wand will be out with the Sunday newspaper,” I told them after dinner on Friday. “I thought it was Dumbledore’s,” my husband replied. “Oh, you’re right. It’s Dumbledore’s. The newspaper says it is.”
Upstairs our two year-old daughter was fast asleep. She’d been playing the whole week with Harry’s wand, yelling “crucio!” and “stupefy!” at her older sisters.
by rossanahead | Aug 9, 2011 | career, Mari-an Santos, woman
By Mari-An Santos
Change excites and terrifies. I don’t think anyone who encounters change feels just one or the other; they seem to go hand in hand.
I am due for a change myself. A change that will once again test whether I am a wallflower or an adventurer, whether I will take courage or recoil, whether I am to step outside of everything familiar and comfortable.
I am excited to experience this change. It will involve the unfamiliar, the unexplored, and the unknown. This always sends shivers down my spine, but it also makes my stomach overflow with butterflies.
Faced with either moving forward or standing still, it’s easier to keep still. Being creatures of habit, human beings like surrounding themselves with things familiar. Besides we like being in charge, as if we are ever really, truly in charge of our own lives.
The traveler in me is excited. I want to explore the unknown, to soak up experiences, and to get as much new knowledge as I can.
There is also that small part of me—and I feel guilty that it’s just a tiny part—that feels sad. Of course, there will be people and places that I will need to leave behind. And surely, I will miss them.
I will miss how the tiny birds outside my window wake me up with their tiny chirps. I will miss the sight of the mountain breeze as it sweeps the bamboo groves. I will miss the colors of the horizon as the sun creeps down to sleep. I will miss the pregnant moon in the dark, clear sky.
I will miss all of these and more, but I will not say goodbye. This change is not permanent. And when I am thrust once again to the familiar, there will be a beautiful reunion for sure.
by rossanahead | Aug 6, 2011 | career, Ruth M. Floresca, woman
By Ruth Manimtim-Floresca
There are usually two types of people I encounter in my line of work: those who inspire and encourage and those who can turn a good day bad. Thankfully, over the years, I’ve learned that life always has ways of balancing things out.
One memory I’ll never forget was being scolded via text messages by a university professor for not being able to provide her immediately with a complimentary copy of the magazine where the article I interviewed her for appeared. At the time, I really didn’t have the budget to buy even my own copy because we’re saving up for my son’s operation. I politely asked if she could give me a month or two to provide her with one since the publisher doesn’t give out complimentary copies. She replied with “No need. This will be the first and last your company is getting any help from me and I will inform my colleagues about your policy” as if I have just committed a crime.
There was also a time when I got stuck in traffic and arrived less than 10 minutes late for an interview. On my way over, my interviewee has been texting and calling me that she and her husband will not wait for me because they’re always on time. I was out of breath when I got to the venue because I ran as fast I could after getting off an expensive taxi ride.
I have dozens more of these stories than I care to remember including a couple of clients who vanished into thin air after making me write press releases for them. Thankfully, I have also been blessed with pleasant ones.
For instance, there was this Saturday when my article appeared in the newspaper I was writing for and my interviewee texted me to ask for my mailing address. That afternoon, a beautiful bouquet of flowers arrived at my doorstep. A couple of months ago, while grocery shopping during my birthday, my sister in law called me to say that a lovely cake from a PR company was delivered at our house several minutes ago.
When I get text messages or e-mails from people I interviewed telling me how much they liked what I wrote, I try not to erase them from my phone or e-mail inbox. When I do have to make way for new messages, I write down their texts, the dates, the senders’ names, and the articles I interviewed them for in a small notebook.
On days when I encounter another bad experience, I take the notebook out and read the affirming messages there. I remind myself that I may fail to satisfy the expectations or demands of certain people but there are still those who appreciate what I do; and that is validation enough that I am not doing as badly as those others think I am.
Then again, I also try to keep in mind to treat the negative experiences as lessons in humility that would help build my character, let me grow more as a person, make me more patient, keep me grounded, and provide me with better discernment on how to deal with or avoid similar incidents in the future.
In my roles as parent, friend, colleague, etc. I always pray that I could also be a source of encouragement for other people even if I may fall short every now and then.
We all need to hear words of affirmation. However, let’s also remember that they are not meant to make us feel puffed up or arrogant but rather grateful that there are people who believe in what we do. At the end of the day, that is what should matter.
by rossanahead | Aug 4, 2011 | career, family, Karen Galarpe, parenting, woman
By Karen Galarpe
On a media trip to Thailand last week, my fellow journalists and I made a beeline for the duty-free shops at the airport with less than an hour left before boarding time. Our agenda: buy homecoming gifts or pasalubong. We bought chocolates, tamarind candies, mango in sticky rice, and Thai curry in a box and headed to the gate with our loot.
Looking around, I see that rare is the Filipino who doesn’t buy pasalubong for folks back home. It’s more of an unwritten rule and a custom to bring home a souvenir for those who weren’t with us on the trip, in effect saying, “Wish you were with me” or “Thinking of you” or “Here’s a little gift to show you I care.”
It’s not really the grandness of the gift that matters, rather the thought that counts, and so little pasalubong items from chocolates to little trinkets are welcomed. This is an expression of the love language of gifts. In “The Five Love Languages of Teenagers”, author Gary Chapman writes, “Gifts are visible, tangible evidence of emotional love.”
My sister remembers hugging and carrying this big white stuffed bear on the plane back home to give to her kids. A friend of mine brought home in his hand luggage two heavy little sculptures from Bangkok to give to friends. And I remember checking out maybe about three stores in Akihabara in Tokyo looking for a specific anime action figure for my son.
There’s satisfaction in buying something for a loved one, or people you care about, and handing this over personally upon arrival from a trip. The smile on the recipients’ faces is worth it.
Traveling soon? Make room then for some strawberry jam and peanut brittle from Baguio, otap and danggit from Cebu, green tea from Japan, coffee from Seattle, wine from California, chocolates from Switzerland, tea from China, and yes, why not—some crocodile jerky from Australia. If it fits in the bag, it’s great pasalubong. Have a safe trip!
by rossanahead | Aug 2, 2011 | children, Education, family, Lyra Pore, parenting
By Lyra Pore-Villafaña
My family has had a number of conversations lately about the best high school for our oldest daughter who’s now in Grade Six.
“I want to go to OLMC,” she declared last year. OLMC is an exclusive girls’ school run by the Sisters of Mercy in Australia. It prides itself in educating Catholic girls in the Mercy tradition for over a hundred years.
My daughter has been particularly impressed by the breadth of extra-curricular opportunities that OLMC provides. There’s a string ensemble, a cake decorating club, a debating team. Name any activity that will catch the fancy of teenage girls, and they probably have it. They even have a strong swimming team that my child, who loves racing, is looking forward to joining.
We’ve already made up our minds about OLMC that we’ve enrolled her there one-and-a-half years before she’s due to go to high school.
Then a few weeks ago, my daughter received an offer from one of the government-run academic selective schools. These are like the Australian equivalent of the Philippine Science High School system. Each year, thousands of Grade Six students apply for admission to selective schools, but only a few get offers because places are limited.
While we are all extremely happy about her passing the test, the good news suddenly throws our plans into disarray. My daughter will have the opportunity to study in one of the best high schools in Australia at a very minimal cost to us. All we have to pay for are the school uniforms and supplies and a small contribution to educational resources. The decision to forego private schooling seems to be a no-brainer ― but it actually isn’t.
Yes, the quality of education in an academic selective school will be superior. Yes, it will save us a fortune. Foremost on our minds though is this: Will she be happy in a highly competitive environment that these schools are known for? Will she thrive in a school where she’s constantly striving for good grades, leaving her with very little time to pursue other interests?
My husband and I have been in the workforce long enough to know that building a successful career isn’t all about having the brains to do the job. Don’t get me wrong. Having walked the grounds of the University of the Philippines in Diliman myself many years ago, I am all for academic excellence.
My experience in the “real world”, however, has also led me to appreciate that doing well in life doesn’t depend on intelligence alone. Equally important is one’s ability to build relationships, to bounce back from failure and rejection, to keep one’s focus even when the going gets tough.
What type of school will help a person build that character? It depends. Some children excel in a highly competitive environment. Others blossom when allowed the time to pursue arts, music, sports, and other co-curricular activities.
We decide to give our daughter room to weigh her options. Though she’s only 11 years old, we feel that she should have a say in the matter. It’s her future after all.
“I’ll go selective,” she announces just a few days after mulling things over. “And why is that?” I ask, amazed at how quickly she has come to a decision.
“Well,” she begins. “I checked out the school uniform, and I think I will look good in it.”
“And I have some friends who are going there too.”
So there. I seem to be making things more complicated than they really are. To an 11-year old girl, it’s all about the outfit and the friends.
