The Joker Story

The character was called Batman, but he never had wings. The villain was called the Joker, but he never was funny to start with.

There is too much irony in the comic book turned into movie, “Batman”. I recall watching the series on local television, wondering why he had to take the batmobile instead of his private plane.

Batman has also been on the big screen a couple of times. With every screening, there is a change in the production company, cast, scoring and story. And with every screening, the film moves a notch higher in quality.

Today it is the most sought after movie. Long lines form in the cinema with every new installment of the batman series. The picture is no less the same in the United States.

But in a Colorado midnight screening packed with fans, a doctorate dropout hurled a gas canister, pulled out his gun and shot 12 people dead. Fifty-nine more were injured. The assailant’s name was James Holmes.

Holmes graduated with highest honors in neuroscience at the University of California, Riverside. He then enrolled in a neuroscience PhD program at the University of Colorado in Denver. He was “at the top of the top”, a brilliant mind at the young age of 24.

But something definitely went wrong. According to an Associated Press report, his loner personality and excessive focus provoked Holmes into believing he was the Joker. He was too engrossed with his career that he isolated himself from the real world. This caused him to think he is an actor in a movie and drove himself crazy into staging a tragedy. His life was wasted.

Holmes never had the guidance he needed, or the parental support he deserved even if he used to be a counselor.

In the Philippines, a number of the youths have backgrounds similar to Holmes. Some do not have a school to go to, parents to talk to, or worse, a home to live in. The numbers of delinquent minors are rising. Their ages are falling. Where has the hope of the next generation gone?

The biggest challenge in this dark world is to maintain one’s sanity while upholding excellence. No student in his/her right mind would want to become the suspect in a crime. No student would also want to lose his/her sanity in the process of becoming a professional.

If we opt to become like a James Holmes, our lives would be a total blackout, a product of our imagination. What good he could have done was to balance his interests without letting go of his dreams and ambitions. As a young person, it is very easy to do that. The youth is vulnerable to pain. We tend to eat up our emotions until it gets the most of us.

Holmes could have become a great doctor in neuroscience. He could have helped their nation in his chosen field. He could have even become an inspiration to a million other lost teenagers. He ultimately blew the chance of becoming a model to the young.

The big screen is not there for us to mimic, rather it mirrors society. The Joker symbolizes a picture of a dissolute youth who took out his disappointment on his mortal enemy. Eventually, he destroyed his life with his schemes. Holmes took the Joker’s story as his own story. If you’re thinking likewise, stop. There’s more to life than your struggles and pain.

Did the Joker ever make Batman laugh? I wonder. For sure, James the Joker didn’t. Don’t even think about doing the same.

I miss Kim, my best friend

It must have been God’s destiny of putting us into a state of friendship.

A difficult algebra equation glued you and me, together with another fellow. With that, we became best friends.

I never knew who you were when I first entered the rigid walls of the Cebu Normal University nor do I have the slightest idea of your gift of gab as you approached me.

The Math period was our bonding moment. You taught me how to be patient with student teachers who couldn’t fluently speak English when they are supposed to be. Every problem was our mountain to climb.

The months rolled and we never lost our bond. My lonely lunch is now with a company of two. From then on, we called ourselves best friends. We graduated with the promise of staying together but the destiny was never in our favor.

College brought changes. You chose to pursue your dreams of being a nurse in the same university while Pearl and I chased our ambitions in the national state university. Although worlds apart, we managed to keep in touch. It was only in that fateful day when our friendship broke.

It was the day where we should have went to visit our God daughter at night her but you chose to hang out with our high school friends, then go home. It felt like you totally forgot about an agreement made. The pact was still so vivid to me.

However, I have failed to understand your side. Your parental situation propelled my anger into selfishness which I was never really proud of. I’m sorry for being such a bratty best friend. I simply disappointed and felt being lied to. Exactly why I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you, I was hurt.

With all honesty, I miss your mini lectures on nursing lessons. I also miss your laughter and your company.  Moreover, I miss Kim, my best friend.

I know time heals all scars. But I do not know how long yours will. If time wouldn’t allow me to be present before it does, I would want to say thank you. Thank you for the past 7 years that we’ve been together. You were always there for me. When I was at the back the foot of the bus’ wheel crying, you knew how to comfort me. During the times of my success, you have never failed to support me being in every performance and quiz bowl I was part of. Did you know I always feel victorious whenever I see you and pearl in the crowd?

Part of me owes it to you. Thank you for correcting my flaws and mistakes.

I hope everything is fine with your studies and family. The type of person that you are mirrors success. I’m not asking for anything in specific, but I wish we can share our happiness to one another again.

Take care. God bless.

Lovingly,

Peng :)

**Non-credit writing assignment submitted on July 23, 2012

The right one

Instead of being sprawled in the living room on a Sunday afternoon, my father and I hit the streets of Mandaue looking for a motorcycle helmet.

“The right one,” he said.

We searched not just for an ordinary helmet but for one with an Import Commodity Clearance (ICC) sticker featuring a hologram issued by the Department of Trade and Industry (DTI). Apparently, we weren’t the only ones in the quest. A number of motorcycle riders were, too. With only a few weeks left before the implementation of the Helmet Law in August, the helmets were selling like hotcakes.

In the past years, thousands of accidents involving motorists occurred. Most of the time, the one on the motorcycle suffered more damage. I have seen motorcycle accidents happen here in the northern part of Cebu. Blood spilling onto the streets was not an unusual sight. More often than not, the first part to crash is the head. Without the proper helmet, your head would break before you know it.

Many motorists have been looking for quality helmets to comply with the Helmet Law. A list released by the government contained almost 50 brands, 90 percent of which are from China. If you do not want to buy a new helmet, go to DTI, have your helmet inspected and they would issue an ICC on it. Given that it passes their standards. The sticker costs P1.25 but you have to pay a processing fee of P100, totally a different story.

Although the law requires that you shell out a thousand pesos or two to acquire the helmet, it is worth it. Substandard helmets are out in the market. There are even motorcycle drivers who wear bike helmets on the road. Worse, there are some who wear construction hats. The logic is very simple, get a helmet for a motorcycle. But still this simple rule seems so hard to comprehend for others.

Regardless of the clamor on buying the right brand, it is time for motorists to wear the right type of helmet. I look at the motorists wearing the wrong helmet in the streets and I say a silent prayer for their safety. Not everyone is insured. It is better to be ready for the worst.

There are different factors to consider when buying a helmet - material, weight, size, design, etc. DTI requires the helmet to have an outer shell, ear flaps, neck curtain, non-protective lower face cover, clear visor and proper ventilation upon wearing it. Proper impact absorption, projection, rigidity and retention are also areas that DTI tests. If these standards are not met, then you’re most likely to have head gear that does not protect you. I’d rather spend more for the protection I deserve plus I avoid being caught. Contrast this with something cheap that will most likely break with your precious head

 “An ounce of prevention is better than cure,” an old saying goes. The law simply exercises this philosophy. Bottom line is we care. I care for my dad who uses a motorcycle. We care for the habal-habal drivers and their passengers who roam the streets every day. We care for the workers who cannot afford a car to drive to their offices.

More motorists will flock to motorcycle shops to buy the helmet with the sticker. For now, they see it as a requirement of the law. But in the long run, they would value it as the government’s move to protect its people.

“The right one,” my dad said.

**Published in The Freeman newspaper on July 24, 2012

Bridging Gaps: Bien Fernandez, Jr.

He has been teaching photography, theater and other Mass Communication courses for over 34 years in prominent universities in Cebu. His name is Bien Fernandez, Jr.

Bien Fernandez, Jr.

At 57 years old, he is considered to be an artist in the education sector in Cebu.

He grew up in the slums of San Francisco Del Monte in Manila. His environment was with tambays and teens who lacked literacy. His only advantage over the others was the degree he was trying to finish. 

“Maybe, education could be the secret to equalizing the situation,” he said about reality of the rich and poor.

It was in one of those quiet open spaces in the University of the Philippines (UP) Dilliman campus where divine intervention brought him to the decision of going for communication. He chose Mass Communication over a few years in Economics after discovering his inclination to broadcasting and theater. After being the first transferee ever admitted during the second semester in the College of Mass Communication in the year 1975, he knew God wanted him there.

His college life was colorful. He was a student by day and actor by night, hanging out with the thespians of the campus. After he graduated, he explored the advertising world. He became the advertising consultant and launched the clothing line Penshoppe into its prominence. He also used to do television commercials as an Ad director receiving clients from Manila and Cebu. All these were the height of his career but he wanted to do more. 

“I wanted to bridge the gap through education because it is something no one can steal from you,” and that was the sign of venture into teaching.

He came back to Cebu to where his family was and began his teaching career at Saint Theresa’s college (STC). As a teacher, he engaged his students into passion rather than graduating for the grades. 

“Teachers are facilitators of learning… not dictators,” he said. He started out as a hot-headed mentor but it turned didn’t out well. “My students were becoming poor in class.”

He helped flourished STC’s theater community. In fact, the dula-tula style which is now prevalent in the theater scene of Cebu was his bring home from Manila, so his students say.

STC student and former Cebu Alliance of Mass Communication Students (CAMS) president Wyvren Veloso said that he taught her to believe in the power of dreams and raw talent noting his eager encouragements during her term as president. “He is a living proof of where hard work and where humility can lead a person,” she added.

His interest in education didn’t only limit him to the four walls of the classroom. He is part of the Coalition for Better Education (CBE), the biggest organization for teachers nationwide. He is also the founding adviser of CAMS.

For years his students have made it successfully into the real world. But even after three decades, he is still into teaching. At present, he is at the University of San Carlos (USC) teaching photography at the Fine Arts Department. 

“It’s a new environment for me, but my job is not done,” he says.

**Published in The Freeman Newspaper on July 16, 2012

Telling a story to change

What does it mean to use media as a tool for change?

I guess I found my answer as I was sitting in a theatre filled with 1,200 fellow Cebuanos who were eager to view the screening of award winning documentaries by GMA 7’s I-Witness.

On the big screen were the most challenging, daring, and heart-breaking documentaries hosted by the top caliber broadcast journalists in the country. As I sat in my seat, I couldn’t help but also be in awe.

Imagine submerging yourself in a lake full of mud. Or staying in a room filled with people who got burned while they scream in agony. What about walking barefoot going up the mountain? These are just some of the challenges the broadcast journalists had to undergo. And they are no extra challenges. These are experiences happening in the everyday. No doubt it moved me and the whole crowd, as well.

But more than just the crying, laughing, screaming and shouting, what really is a documentary?

According to my professor who does specialized teaching on documentary making, it came from the French word documentaire which means travelogue. Furthermore, he said that docus (short for documentaries) explore the human behavior and the human condition as they get affected by issues, challenges and disasters.

As complicated as it may sound, docus are there to show the real world to the people. They are not just for show, neither for entertainment purposes. They do not also fall into a hard news.

Documentaries can be as big as an international cable network production, or as small as a student project. No matter how big or small, docus always have the common goal of using media to reach out to people. Its effect goes beyond the human heart but urges one to be motivated in action.

For students who are still under supervision, there isn’t much action even if the heart calls for it as far as money is concerned. However, the sense of urgency and willingness to help could not be paid for. These traits change lives by looking at the other side of coin, that there is much to work on to make this nation a better place.

If this ignites hope in every Filipino youth, imagine a battalion of young people who are willing to use their lives for the betterment of this country. But then again, this is a dream that has a long way to go. It is sad that there are already existing youths who want to help lift our country but the government shuns them away.

These are not just our athletes for this year’s Olympics, but those who have mind blowing ideas and innovations in all areas possible. Names have already been mentioned internationally but it stops there. No more support, and the quest for knowledge ends.

Needless to say, if there is no point in waiting too long for a false hope, then it is better to move on our own. Thank God for concerned citizens who are reached by this form of medium. It bridges the gap between those in need and those who want to help. I guess that is the main goal of such media in this society where delay is always an option.

Documentaries exist because there is a need for them. Not just for brand name, awards and glamour, but they reach out to those who are unheard of in a primetime night. Those who are not seen by the mainstream eyes are given the chance to show themselves.

Now that it is all clear to me, I guess it is time for my camera to do wonders. If they can, why can’t a student like me do it? When I get home I’ll write a story worth telling to a million people and more. And one day, that story will be worth telling to a million more.

**Published in The Freeman newspaper on July 10, 2012

Flipping pages to reality

My academic love story began with a page flip and book’s dog ear fold during my first grade. I have always loved studying. Tomorrow’s lesson is my yesterday’s quiz. This routine continued until my collegiate years.

My secret to surviving school was reading.

Any reading material fascinates me. I can choose from books to magazines to newspapers to all the articles readable in my known language. In fact, Amy Tan’s “The Hundred Secret Senses” is under my pillow. Dan Brown’s works are on the bedside drawer. 

Because of the reader in me, the library has become my nook. Every day during the first hour, I enter the familiar doors of the University of the Philippines (UP) Cebu library. The library staff greet me like they did yesterday and the day before that. I clutch my pink laptop and a couple of books borrowed the day before then I head to the periodical section.

During one of my library sessions, I noticed a pile of tattered books carried by a freshman. It must have been published during the war years, page edges are yellow, the book cover missing. My head shook in dismay. This library has been left behind by the modernity of learning.

True enough, UP Cebu’s library seemed ill remembered in the past decade or so. Although access to online journals around the country is now possible, library attendants say that students don’t take advantage of this. New books come once in a while but not as readers need them.

I wonder: Will UP Cebu’s library ever become one of the best? Most universities which I have visited this month have up to date books. Not to mention computers for Internet research. The University of San Carlos library recently became the biggest library in the country. If we cross the Tañon Strait, the Silliman University library is one of the best. What about the library of the national university in Cebu? Ours is barely a sixteenth or less of theirs.

I pity the generations to come. They are bound to use books published in the 1980s or earlier which don’t even have the data they need. Sure, digital books will take over soon but the budget for this seems to come in last. There is only one working computer inside the room and it can only be used to access the online catalogue.

There is much to spend on in a university that houses a top caliber student body. Yet, it’s illogical not to spend on books. Compared to online journals and E-books, printed books can easily be retrieved unlike soft copies that can be lost to system failure.

Despite this lapse, I’m thankful for this nook which I regard as my refuge and my love. It has been my fortress when stress attacks me. I could sit by a desk beside the huge windows with today’s paper on hand while overlooking the slums of Barangay Kamputhaw.

 The library attendants are my friends. There’s Ate Sol, the tall woman who loves to answer crossword puzzles on the newspaper. There’s Sir Jess, the only man among the all female powerhouse. And of course, there’s Miss Ofelia, the bubbly and never hesitant attendant.

There is much to tell about UP Cebu’s library, and there is more to come if the next generation can benefit from it. If only this would be taken notice of.

It is a cry full of “I hope” and “what if” especially now that it has been temporarily closed because of its unsafe structure.

I remembered a couple of freshmen who once caught my eye. They squatted behind a shelf, laughing so hard and their big books were wide open on their laps.

I’m glad. This love story isn’t only mine to keep. I flip the page from the book on my desk and wander from books to the windows with this view of social reality.

**Published in The Freeman newspaper on July 17, 2012

Jeepneys will be missed

I have always been an avid commuter, always. I’m not one of those college girls who drive to school with flashy cars or hire a chauffeur to wait outside the gate. No, the jeep has always been my best companion.

It was only in this semester where I have missed the jeep catching scheme when my father opted to bring me to university once or twice in the day. When he took a short absence, I jumped at the opportunity to ride a jeepney.

Approaching the lone jeepney stop from my abode, I noticed that jeepneys were rerouted. A new terminal was set up a few kilometers from where I stood which was put up by the new mall in our municipality. Students with plaid skirts and formal slacks were flocking to whatever jeep that stopped or they would be late.

During my travel to the city onboard the jeepney, I could not help but notice the driver’s laments. There was just too much on his plate as he was talking to the woman in the front seat – oil price hikes, hot weather, scheming traffic enforcers, nosy passengers, change to give, and a family to feed.

Could the Bus Rapid Transit solve all his problems? A jeepney driver said in a news report that this would worsen their situation. A big possibility of losing their job would equate with placing nothing on the table. No more jeep to drive, no more source of income.

It’s either a big slab of change or nothing at all.

Either way, there’s just so much to miss about these jeepneys once they’re erased from the main traffic scene. No more colorful vehicles, no more competition on who has the best overhead lights.

It does not only stop at aesthetics. A usual Cebuano routine would be disrupted. I could not imagine getting on a bus, standing with a multitude of people. It’s like we are slowly becoming like Manila.

There will be no more “Sikit-sikiti!” shouts from conductors. Even the jeepney rappers will be eliminated for good. They will all be silenced.

All these and more were going on in my head as I made my way into the city and transfer from one jeepney to another toward my destination.

Jeepneys have been mentioned in our lessons from the primary years until the collegiate level. It is part of what defines who we are. Imagine if the Americans didn’t come to the Philippines, the jeepneys wouldn’t have existed. These vehicles may just have been hand-me-downs from our foreign friends but these jeeps also have a historical impact on us. And it would be sad if these were removed from the streets.

There is so much clamor going on with the BRT scheme. Although the feasibility study is worth commending, wouldn’t it be better to take a step back first? Traffic has always been there. Blame private vehicles, not Public Utility Jeepneys (PUJ). We need them as much as you need your own cars and drivers too, by the way.

Now that the direction of the district’s representative is moving to the path of modernization, I savor the last few months of getting on and off this vehicle. Its more than tradition, it has been our lifestyle.