by rossanahead | Jun 17, 2011 | children, Education, Gina Abuyuan, parenting, woman
By Regina Abuyuan
I usually dread the mornings. I hate the feeling of drowsiness, not being able to think right because you’re just too goddamn sleepy. When I’m sleepy, I turn grouchy and uncoordinated; an ill-tempered puppet.
But it’s school time again, and while my partner D has taken the initiative to make the kids’ breakfasts and drive them to school every morning, I sometimes feel guilty that he has to do all the dirty morning work…so I gather up all my willpower to drag myself out of bed and join him and the family for “breakfast.”
We have no stay-in help, so breakfast is a no-fuss affair. No table settings, no side dishes of atchara or elaborately sliced fruit. This particular morning, it’s ham sandwiches, all piled up on a single plate. Baon is packed the night before (that I do). Sounds efficient, yes? Like everything would go by without a hitch? Not really. Either one of the twins has a hard time waking up, gets absentminded while eating his sandwich and loses it to our new Labrador puppy. Another forgets to turn off the faucet after brushing his teeth. Then the other wears his shirt the wrong way. Their older sister is getting grumpy; she’ll be late if the twins carry on like this. Eventually, it’s over. Schoolbags are piled on little shoulders. Kisses are exchanged. They’re in the car and off to school.
I sit alone at the dining table. Crumbs litter the surface; little bits of wheat bread and egg are scattered on the floor, and already I can imagine the ants’ antennae perk up, a contingent of soldier arms ready to pick up the morsels. I pick up their leftovers, put them in my mouth and chew slowly.
Amidst the mess, the whole house is quiet. Cool, not-yet-so-bright, and silent. I’m alone. For the first time in almost a week, I feel I can breathe.
At that moment, I feel like a different person. I feel no tension and anxiety, and a thought crosses: I love mornings.
Let’s see how long that’ll last.
by rossanahead | May 31, 2011 | career, children, Education, Gina Abuyuan, woman
By Regina Abuyuan
Even as kids, she was clearly the artist among us, even as her sister was equally talented in music, even when I, too, wrote poems and stories and wasn’t so shabby with the paints and charcoals. She seemed to move in a world of her own, unaware of her own beauty and power. Weird? Of course she was weird. But she was also kind and sincere and naïve and all those other things that tend to get one into the saddest kinds of trouble.
I’m talking of my cousin, C, who now goes by another name; the name that now graces her album cover: Kulay by Tricia Garcia. She’s even got a spankin’ new music video of her first single, “Tabing Ilog.” Watch it here.
Tricia is almost my age—way past the prime of other musicians who get their big break while they’re in their 20s, or earlier. It’s not that she didn’t start early enough–for a time she was the lead vocalist of Pretty In Pink, that bubblegum pop group that came up with “Cool Ka Lang” in the early ‘90s. It was that she was held back.
Now, I’m going to stop right here lest I get anyone into trouble, but I will say that one of the most tragic things that can happen to an artist, or one full of God-given talents, is to be held back and suppressed. It doesn’t matter if the suppression was done “for your own good.” It’s like murder to deprive someone of their fullest potential—and to deprive others of experiencing that gift.
For several years, Tricia had to bury her love of song and art to please other people, to fit into their expectations of what she should be and how she should behave. She would have to hide her easels in the closet. She would have to hide who she was, period. It ate into her soul. Whenever we saw each other, I would see that the light had dimmed ever so imperceptibly in her eyes. She would try to justify it, saying it was for the better, but I—wild Water Rat that I am, who would rather die than be caged—would see she was only trying to convince herself.
And then, one day, the unthinkable happened. Tricia broke free.
She confessed to me her biggest fear two Christmases ago, that she might not be able to make it on her own, now that she was past youth, now that she had to start from scratch. What would people say? How would they react?
My reply (which is undoubtedly how the rest of the superwomen on this blog would reply, too): Don’t think of what other people will say. Just forge on. Do what you love. Do what you do best. Their words mean nothing. Your happiness means everything!
Something amazing happens when someone is set free and made to, finally, bask in his true purpose. It’s like the universe comes together, calls upon all its mighty gears and wheels, and everything locks into place. Mere months after Tricia let go, she inked a deal with MCA Universal. Less than a year later, she started recording her album. Around six weeks ago, her album was launched. Last week, this video was released.
When my daughter—or my sons, for that matter—get married, or have their first sweethearts, I’d like to direct them to this lesson learned from their Auntie Tricia: Stay true to yourself. Don’t let anyone tell you who or how you should be. Don’t allow your dreams to die. And if you’ve really got some gold inside you, it will shine, even if it’s been kept in darkness for years.
by rossanahead | May 28, 2011 | Education, family, Mari-an Santos
By Mari-An Santos
In school, Math was not my strongest subject. Somehow, I did very well at English, Filipino, and Social Studies–and good enough at Science, but I was terrible at Math! This is ironic for someone whose father is excellent at Math.
My father can mentally compute at lightning speed. And it must have been disappointing for him to have a daughter who was moved to tears by complex equations–if only there were more established tutorial services when I was in school. Instead, my father spent many late nights trying to explain to me why x’s and y’s could be relevant to real life.
I begged my Math whiz friends to help me understand the lessons every week. Every time we had a quiz, a long test, or an exam, however, my pulse would race. I would get light-headed and sweat profusely. I was literally terrified! I just barely passed—but never failed—Math every single quarter.
Though my choice of course in college depended largely on my passion, one other factor was the fact that I just needed to take three units of Math. Sold!
When I was thinking of pursuing a second degree, I considered another interest: engineering. But when I saw the list of prerequisite subjects—a lot of them, complex Maths–I backed down. I knew myself well enough to know my limits. And besides, I am no masochist.
In the real world, however, I encountered Math on a daily basis: computing the division of a meal with friends, making sure I got the exact change, and figuring out if I had enough money to commute home. Soon, I was no longer nervous when I mentally computed how much money I should hand over. I developed my own system so that I never missed a beat.
I get by. I don’t shy away from Math anymore–just don’t make me go through Calculus again.
by rossanahead | May 24, 2011 | career, children, Education, Karen Galarpe, parenting
By Karen Galarpe
It never fails to amuse people when they hear my reply when they ask me what course I took in college. Sometimes I make them guess. At other times, I blurt the truth out to save time.
“Commerce. Accounting,” I would say. And always there would be a split second of shock, before I hear laughter.
“Then what are you doing in journalism?”
And so I would tell them how I really wanted to be a writer since grade school, nurtured the dream in high school and even joined the school paper, before ending up at the College of Commerce.
My dad wanted me to be a lawyer since he wanted to be one too. He wasn’t able to finish his law course though since he got married early and started a family. Since my three elder siblings didn’t fancy law, he put his hopes on me, the youngest, to fulfill his dream.
The accounting course was in preparation for a career as a CPA-lawyer. I did the whole course and even passed the board exam. After 2 years as an auditor, however, I felt I would grow old by 10 years in a year’s time. I would really rather write stories that could help other people than trace transactions and prepare financial statements.
I share this because in a few months, many senior high school students would be applying for college, and I am sure, a lot of them aren’t sure of what course they want to take.
Parents, I believe, should not relive their dreams through their kids. Instead they should help them find their passion and encourage them to go that way.
When one has passion in what he does, he’ll no doubt excel in his field and will have a zest for life every day. That’s in stark contrast to the man just trudging along, slaving away at a job he doesn’t like, waiting for the clock to signal the end of a working day.
Your child will show signs of his interests and passion which are gifts from God. Be keen in observing them. These may be different from your own gifts and passion, but that just goes to show you your child is his own person. Then be your child’s cheerleader and egg him on to enrol in a college course that could prepare him to pursue his dreams.
My dad couldn’t do anything when I told him I resigned from my auditor job many, many years ago and was enrolling in graduate school for a master’s degree in journalism. He realized this is my passion, and has given me the leeway to pursue my dreams.
And that’s why I’ve been writing and why you’re reading this.
by rossanahead | May 21, 2011 | career, Education, Rossana Llenado
By Rossana Llenado
I always get nervous when asked to speak in front of a group of people. I know that I’ve done it many times before but I still get nervous.
Last week, I met with a group of bloggers, and though I was initially scared, it took me no time to get comfortable. It helped that a lot of them were also parents. It also helped that I got to talk about something that I am so excited about right now, which is our attempt to break into the international market with Ahead Interactive.
Think you’re the only parent who has gone crazy helping his child with his homework? Well, you are not alone! Parents the world over have been confounded by math equations and past participles—and that is, after having worked at the office the whole day.
Through our smart and capable Filipino teachers, we’d like to be of service to tired, stressed-out parents. Through Ahead Interactive, we can provide real-time tutoring services to children across the globe. Mom and Dad can have some rest while their child finishes his homework. Afterwards, they can all spend some quality time together—maybe by taking a walk around the park or watching a movie. Initially, we’re looking at providing our services to families in California.
This is what makes my work very exciting. There’s always something new and fresh going on.
by rossanahead | May 19, 2011 | children, Claire Agbayani, Education, parenting
By Susan Claire Agbayani
A few days ago, my unico hijo (U.H.) told me that he was done with college, and consequently, is going to march on June 2011 with a baccalaureate degree in Chemistry.
About a decade ago, I transitioned from being an employee to being a graduate student scholar. Back then, my U.H. had to wait for me on the benches in the waiting area because–for security reasons–children were not allowed entry into the campus. Who would have imagined that a decade later, my son would do what I had failed to do back then? Finish a degree, that’s what!
If there is one thing that I had always wanted, it is for my son to finish college. I knew that with his diploma, he would be equipped to face the real world, seek and land a job, and join the work force.
Although I wasn’t able to give my son a lavish lifestyle (case in point: he was always shivering in the classroom even if he wore a jacket while his classmates sometimes even found the weather a bit “hot”), I know that the best gift I could ever give him is an excellent education.
It is our desire that he glorify the Lord in whatever path he chooses to trod. I look forward to how he could positively contribute to society in his own little way, one step at a time.
