james.soriano

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PUBLISHED: Student & Campus Section, Manila Bulletin, 4 February 2009 Issue (Page E-4)

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In light of the need to impose educational reforms, CHED has proposed to retool the system into having five-year college courses across the board.

In this plan, the first two years at the college level will be use for “pre-university” courses, supposedly to equip students with skills that would immediately land them jobs should they forgo further specialization.

Ideally, the plan will be put in motion by next school year, amid soaring unemployment rates and the world’s biggest economic crunch since the Great Depression in 1929.

It has gotten me wondering whether the government is looking too far ahead in coming up with a solution—or if it is indeed even looking for one.

In the first place, effective educational reforms necessitate two things: a clear view of the problem, and a well-defined connection between the problem and the solution. It is this link between problem and solution that I cannot fully appreciate.

The problem with our system is not so much in the number of years, but in the caliber of the education it gives.

Right now, our educational system is a moldering mess. Curricula are not up to date, and neither are the ways with which we we educate. While the rest of the world is revolutionizing through computers, we are revolting from the lack of textbooks (which themselves are factually lacking) and classrooms without teachers. There are many students but not enough teachers. In many cases, schooling has become a formality which students undergo without truly learning anything. It is for this reason that so few of us even reach college.

At this point, should we even be talking about expanding years in college when we can barely prepare our students for it?

But say for the sake of argument that we tackle it on the level of the university itself. Ideally, the extra year creates space for more meaningful learning and specialization. Yet if we look at the structure of the policy itself, practically nothing changes.

Currently, the first year of many universities is spent on general education (to compensate for the lack of training our basic education has given) and the next three years is spent on the course itself. Under the proposed system, two years will be spent on “pre-college” courses, and the next three years for specialization. Seems like the only real change is that college students take freshman year twice.

Besides, in an age where specialization has become the key to employment, one has to doubt whether we can feasibly leave school after two years of pre-specialized education.

Before we think about expanding years in college, we should revisit our college curriculum first, and see whether we exact accountability from schools that do not deliver.

Then we have to think about whether families can handle such a change. Not so long ago, millions of Filipinos lost their educational savings by investing in faulty college plans. Nowadays, these same people are reeling from the impact of the financial crisis, which has resulted in significantly reduced incomes, if not outright unemployment. One has to wonder whether they can handle the added expense of another year of college. Indeed, one has to wonder whether they can currently handle the expenses of four years in college.

This is even worse for students who mostly depend on scholarship and financial aid. As you increase the number of years required for education, you also increase the amount of money that must be invested to ensure that a student graduates. This will make scholarships more competitive, and this means that it will be more difficult for poor yet worthy and intelligent students to have access to higher education. Yet here we are talking about how to best utilize the talent of the youth.

Granted, it is admirable that our administration is thinking of ways to make meaningful reforms to the education system. It is also good that we have begun caring about being up to par with international standards. But before we gaze outward and think of big solutions, it is necessary to introspect and discern the kind of changes we need to make first.

At least then, our government won’t seem like it’s looking for a cheap way to reduce unemployment figures.

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PUBLISHED: Student & Campus Section, Manila Bulletin, 17 September 2008 Issue (Page F-4)

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A lot of us enter college dreaming of big things for ourselves.

During the first few weeks of school, it was not uncommon to hear people say that they’re going to average an uno or a quatro (whichever applies), or at least make the Dean’s List, this first semester. I guess there’s just something about the whole situation that makes us believe that we’re up to the challenges it poses. But maybe that’s a good thing, if it motivates us to give it our best.

Now that we’re nearing the end, though, the mood is strikingly different. A lot of my peers have given up on the possibility of an academically flawless first semester, or on making the Dean’s List, for that matter. I guess there’s just something about the whole situation that puts us in our place. Whatever the reason, the fact is that we don’t get the grades that we expected.

But the good thing about the college system is that your grade isn’t the only thing that matters. This, I presume, is the reason why the upperclassmen keep saying that you should be active in orgs, because orgs will give you the experience as well as the opportunities when you start out. They often tell stories of people who didn’t necessarily graduate with honors, but were very much involved in org work, which is why they’re doing okay right now.

Besides, as one of my professors put very eloquently, college is really all about the lessons you learn and the skills you pick up, which aren’t necessarily reflected by your grades. Grades measure your output, but they do not always truly measure the kind of person you are, or the amount of knowledge you have gained.

At this point, there is a lot of consolation about not doing very well academically in college. After all, grades aren’t everything. We shouldn’t be so hard on ourselves for not getting the marks we want to get. Instead, we should just enjoy learning for learning’s sake.

I agree—except it’s really not that simple.

For one thing, it’s still one of the first things that potential employers look at when they view your resume. This, actually, has some logical basis: grades are the most objective measures of your ability to produce output. In a way, therefore, they are a reliable measure of your work ethic. True, grades don’t always reflect your true mettle, but your true mettle won’t be worth anything if it can’t earn you a decent living.

Second, first-class grades are pretty much a prerequisite to getting first-class opportunities, and by that I mean you have to be one of the very best, if not the very best. After all, these opportunities go a very long way; you could be starting at a position which most other people would take years to even reach. If you think about it in terms of the money you earn or the time you save, that is quite a significant advantage. It is an advantage that org involvement won’t often be able to give you.

It is at this point that you realize how much a semester really matters. Education is a game of grade-point averages, and college is no different; the only thing that matters is your average at the end. Therefore, the goal is to keep your GPA consistently high. If you spread that out over the whole course of your college life, which is around eight semesters for most people, you’ll realize that one or two near-failing marks in one semester can easily destroy your bid for summa cum laude, and that semester is something you can never get back.

That is precisely why first semester can be so frustrating. If you slipped up, then you’ll just have to live with it. Also, it doesn’t get any easier from here. If you weren’t able to exploit it, then you’ll just have to work harder the rest of the way—all for a piece of paper that supposedly estimates your worth in the job market.

Maybe it’s unfair, but the fact of the matter is this:

Grades do matter.

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PUBLISHED: Student & Campus Section, Manila Bulletin, 21 August 2008 Issue (page F-4)

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I was taking a leak before going to English class last Wednesday when I overheard two of my batchmates talking about school. They seemed rather stressed, and understandably so; it’s midterms season. I wasn’t really listening to them, but I did hear one part of the conversation that struck me. It went something like this:

“Why do we even have to take up Math, anyway? It’s not like we’ll need to factor quadratic equations when we start working!”

“Yeah nga e! It’s not like I need to balance chemical equations when I’m already in media!”

Of course, we all know that’s not the point. We study math, science and language not because we are supposed to remember every single detail. Rather, we take them as a form of mental training, and your course determines which areas you are trained in. Of course, there are some subjects whose basis for being taken up may seem questionable, but that’s disputable.

Then again, I think the query makes sense in a different way. If you boil down the reasoning behind it to its simplest form, the question simply asks, “What’s the point?”—which means that probably, the point is being missed. On one hand, perhaps it is the wrong question to ask, since factoring is obviously not the point of a college education, but on the other hand, it’s also right.

Why do we work so hard to attain degrees that will only matter when we start working—if they will matter at all? And considering how college has become something of a necessity in starting a decent career, has the system of education failed in some way?

Nowadays, it seems like there are only two kinds of people who get the jobs that they want. The first are the people who have studied and graduated abroad; the second are the people who come from prestigious local universities. For these people, college has done its part.

This leaves out everyone else who comes from lesser-known institutions, as well as those who never went to or finished college. They constitute a majority of the workforce. The sad part is, they often don’t land the jobs they should be in. You could graduate as a Science or a Business major and still end up as a minimum-wage earner.

Of course, it can be argued that a large part of what makes a person successful in a career is his or her drive and determination. There are people, after all, who go into jobs that don’t fit their course descriptions and still end up successful. College can only go so far when it comes to equipping students with the tools that they need, in a world whose demands are constantly changing. I agree.

Then again, perhaps there is a need to re-examine our approach when it comes to education.

For one thing, I’m not sure it makes sense for our colleges to go with the flow when it comes to the labor market—that’s the reason why virtually every college seems to offer a Nursing course these days. While we supply whatever job is in demand around the world, we do so at the expense of other professions, and we often end up with an oversupply.

Another area which needs re-examining is the philosophy behind education. In our country, the mindset of most people coming out of college is to land a stable job and slowly work your way up. Perhaps we need to encourage students to start out on their own, instead of focusing on just getting employed.

It can even go as far down as the amount of knowledge that is being fed to the minds of students. Is it really necessary to go through all that tedium? Perhaps curricula can be adjusted so that there’s less pressure, which might result in better learning. Interestingly enough, people who study in universities abroad often have lighter loads than the ones who study here.

Nonetheless, while we can argue about how college education should be, the more important thing is still to make the most out of it. This means different things to different people, but the important thing is to learn to be flexible and adaptable.

And that means realizing that learning goes on and on and on, even after college.

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PUBLISHED: Student & Campus Section, Manila Bulletin, 31 July 2008 Issue (page F-3)

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Last Friday, I found myself sitting outside the school library with a couple of classmates. The day was ending and I was sharing the story of how I used to take up karate. “Sige nga,” they said, after my story, “show us one of your kicks!”

I chose one of the white pillars near the entrance as my hapless victim. I faced it. I bowed. Put on the standard stance. And without warning, gave it a high kick. WHACK!

“Boss, pumunta nga kayo dito at patingin ng ID.” That was the voice of the security guard who was surreptitiously standing behind me.

That was the story of how I got my first violation of the school-year: vandalism. Why? My shoe stained the pillar. Couldn’t I just clean it myself? No. Okay, then what sanctions do I get? He wouldn’t say.

After the conversation, I didn’t know who I wanted to kick—him, for being so unfriendly, or me, for being so stupid.

On one hand, he did have a point. On the other hand, if I kicked something else (say, a tree) or if I kicked it somewhere else (say, some other university), I probably wouldn’t have been punished. Maybe that’s why it seemed so legalistic.

I understand that laws are meant to establish order in a society. In my case, it was sending the message that if I did that “bad” thing again, I would pay for it. Therefore, other people wouldn’t follow my example. Fair enough. Except that people wouldn’t follow my example to begin with. People don’t ordinarily kick pillars for fun.

It’s not that I blame my school for being too strict, or the security guard for doing his job. People get punished for being ignorant. In any kind of setting, it’s always the person’s duty to know about the rules.

The problem arises when the rules are not clear, and the implementers are given wide latitude of discretion.

Ideally, the way for you to defend yourself when faced in a situation like mine is to explain your side of the rules, being an informed and responsible member of the community. But what if the rules aren’t clear? Worse, what if the person apprehending you is looking to take advantage of you—do you think he’ll listen?

Outside of a school setting, you would probably go to a lawyer. Except if it’s a small infraction, it’s probably not worth the effort. And when it’s a big infraction—well, let’s just hope you’re not against the son of some politician, or the politician himself. Otherwise, it’s better to give it up.

The tragedy of it all is that this takes place in a country where most people are marginalized. Usually, these people have no faith in the system. Faith being non-existent, people could end up resorting to easier, illegitimate means, knowing the risks.

This, in turn, gives birth to a bastardized version of the system, and nourishes it.

For example, I’ve always wondered why certain government branches accept bribes from people in exchange for an easier time. Is it because our governments are inherently oppressive and evil, or because we continue paying the bribes? I don’t know.

But whether or not I do, what scares me is the way wrong implementation has become normal to us. Bribing officers on the road seems to have become acceptable. In higher echelons, some people don’t give a second thought to bribing public officials if they get their way. It feels like with each bribe we pay and each corner we cut, our moral fabric as a society is twisting more and more into a mockery of what it should be. So that it’s the policemen who become the drug dealers, and the drug dealers who become our saviors.

The greater tragedy is that we don’t know who the good guys are anymore.

Honestly, I still don’t know who to kick. One side says I should kick myself, not necessarily for being uninformed, but for having a ‘lapse in judgment’. The other says I should kick the system for punishing me uselessly. Either way, it’s not like I have a choice but to go along with it. But since I wasn’t convinced that I was wrong, I’m not sure the rule lived up to its purpose.

Perhaps the greatest tragedy of all is that this early, I am confused as to what is right and what is wrong.

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PUBLISHED: Student & Campus Section, Manila Bulletin, 17 July 2008 Issue (page G-3)

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There are many different reasons why we choose the courses we take up in college.Most people choose courses based on the careers that they think will make them successful.

Others choose courses that fulfill them, regardless of whether it’s lucrative.

Still, others choose courses not knowing what they really want, so that some of them eventually end up shifting from one course to another.

But no matter what the reason is, the most important thing is that you choose, for it is your future—your life—at stake.

But what if someone else did the choosing for you?

I think the reason I ask is because I’ve heard too many of my peers asking, “Why the hell am I in this course anyway?” Apparently, these people were pressured to take up courses they didn’t really want. I feel bad for them because they find themselves unable to get out in a rut that they didn’t even create.

Now, I don’t want to sound unfair by saying that the decision to take up an AB or a BS degree belongs exclusively to the student, and that other people, like parents, should not interfere with the process in any way. Obviously, a lot of considerations have to be made when it comes to career choice. And parents, in this case, can be very helpful.

But at the same time, it is also very difficult to draw the line. Parents can always impose their will on their children, on the presumption that they know better. This is where the classic conflict comes into play.

My parents want me to be a doctor, but I want to be a lawyer. I want to take up Political Science, but dad says I should be in Business Management. I really wanted to be an accountant, but mom put nursing in my college application; I didn’t want to go against her wishes.

On one hand, perhaps it is only fair. We do owe certain things to our parents. And when parents have put so much into the roads they predestined for us to take, we shouldn’t let them down. Or when families are in dire need of financial support, it is only right that we give back. Family, after all, is central to our values as a people.

But what bothers me is that it forces young people to either of two situations. The first is when you stay. While some people adapt effectively, others don’t. And when you don’t, you end up numbing yourself, usually with self-deception.

The second is when you eventually break down and shift. This scenario is riskier because it’s the kind of thing that causes rifts in families. Either way, they start out with an inherent disadvantage—unlike people like me, who were given the liberty to take up what we wanted.

Then again, maybe there’s some sense in giving up your dreams in lieu of what others dictate.

Yes, maybe. Some people have to give up what they could be, or what they want to be, and conform to what seems to be the safer option. And if we have anything going for us, it’s that our society supports such a mindset. After all, our educational system has always been demand-driven. Considering that our parents were formed under the same mentality, it is only reasonable to assume that they urge us to conform to it as well.

And then we ended up with an oversupply of nurses. But I digress.

There are many different reasons why we choose the courses that we do, but the most important thing is that we choose them. Other people shouldn’t be the ones making choices that shape our futures, using standards that are different from our own. Whether your parents agree with it or not, what matters is that you are certain of what you have chosen. Practical considerations are not the only determiners of success. And even then, success isn’t the sole measure of what makes a life meaningful anyway.

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PUBLISHED: Student & Campus Section, Manila Bulletin, 3 July 2008 Issue (page F-4)

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Everyone has some form of rude awakening as a college freshman. Usually, it comes in the form of a shockingly low score, a terror professor, or a reprimand for a rule that you never knew existed. Other times, though, it comes from the people around you, a.k.a. the upperclassmen. This was what happened exactly a week ago, when I found out that the term “bench culture” was not only used to refer to a Japanese method of increasing strawberry yields.

It was after a morning class. A couple of blockmates decided to meet up at a convenient spot where some empty benches were located. Empty as they were, the group sat on them. A few minutes later, a couple of upperclassmen sat next to the group. Shortly after, a friend got shoved off of the bench. Verbal abuse began flying in our direction. The group endured this for some time more while waiting for the last few people, but when they shoved another one off the bench, the block left.

A friendly upperclassman later told the block that the bench, apparently, belonged to a certain set of students.

Up to last week, I had never encountered “bench culture” as a phenomenon that existed beyond fictional American high schools often portrayed on film. But while I find it surprising that it exists in a university setting, I have nothing against it. People are entitled to their benches if it’s important to them.

What I don’t get is why they couldn’t have just come up to us and politely asked us to leave.

Instead, hurtful remarks, empty threats, and threatening glares were resorted to. While not necessarily civilized, yes, sometimes that’s effective. But isn’t there a better way of doing things? I mean, we’re all sensible, mature individuals, presumably. We can talk things over.

But maybe, just maybe, what happened merely mirrors the kind of society we grew up in. A society where such high premium is placed on “pakiramdaman”, and confrontation is generally frowned upon. And sometimes that’s a good thing. Some problems are better solved when left alone.

Other times, it’s the kind of thing that gets problems to fester like a cancerous pimple. That’s not to say, though, that we don’t know when a situation calls for talking things over. But it seems to me that we always tell ourselves that we’ll resolve our issues face-to-face “eventually, when the right time comes”- yet often kingdom comes faster than the right time does. And that’s when the pimple blows up.

But in real life, it’s a lot less clear-cut.

In college, a bench is something you sit on. Outside, benches are symbolic of norms, values, and accepted practices. Not all of them are sound, but it’s not always worth your skin trying to challenge them. Take for example the scenario of being pulled over by a policeman for a violation of traffic rules (presumably they exist in this country). Telling the policeman that he is the epitome of the social maladies that afflict the country would hardly lead anywhere productive. Let’s face it- we would rather pay him off and save the hassle of being late, not to mention recovering the license. Yet it is precisely when we keep silent about these things that they tend to propagate.

But everyone has some form of rude awakening as a college freshman. Usually it’s borne out of some sort of ignorance on our part. And like foreigners settling in a foreign country, it’s our job to find out and adapt to the prevalent culture.

But when rules are unwritten, it’s not good to expect us to read what we can’t see. That is how things get lost in translation. Like when people don’t respect the “bench culture” because they don’t know there is one.

But if this is how the real world works, then I guess we just have to deal with it.