I come from one of those science high schools—also, what for some may be the best one in the
country. In a vacuum, Pisay should have been able to equip its graduates with a strong computer
programming background, a science education leaps and bounds from its peers, a reading culture
which involves the likes of William Golding, Chinua Achebe, and Lois Lowry—basically an awesome
education. It prepares the student to excel in his/her chosen scientific field in university, and maybe
explore graduate studies abroad, with the end-goal of taking and applying all this knowledge back to
the Philippines, filling its need for scientists and engineers.
I’m not a hipster, in the cultural connotation of the word, but I was never part of this portrait, this plan. I realize that the effect of my Pisay education to me is wrapped in this analogy: The pole vaulter sees the bar he is about to leap over. What does he do? He looks at his pole, and he carefully discards it someplace safe. He then appreciates the fact that he had an opportunity to see the bar; thus, when the day of competition arrives, he is in no shape to compete. What he has, though, are stories and reflection about himself—his interaction and feelings as he saw the bar, laid high and mighty meters above his head.
The “bar” in this analogy is the culture of high education that is permeated and cultivated by Pisay. I have stories to tell about my interactions with classmates and professors who have both gone to the Americas, to Europe, to Singapore, to Japan, and to other parts of the world to further exemplify their already solid education.
Me? I’m “stuck” in the Philippines.
Also, I’m “stuck” in a mathematics course I didn’t really like, not knowing the equations written on the board in a Statistics course. By the time my professor exclaimed, “This shouldn’t be new to you! This was already taught to you! I should be the only one new here!,” I knew I wouldn’t be staying long in the status quo.
Enter philosophy. The summer term before I took that fateful Statistics course, I took two philosophy electives. I took them because a close friend was prodding me to shift to philosophy, and because all Ateneans get two electives of their choice in their four- or five-year stay in the University, I decided to give it a chance; at the very least, I thought, I would have experienced what it’s like.
Since I already didn’t like my course and wanted badly to do something with it, I shifted to that same philosophy course a semester after.
Now, coming from a science high school background, I have no idea, for instance, who Heidegger, Levinas, and Derrida are. I have heard of Plato and Aristotle, sure, but I don’t know what they said or thought about in their time. Ateneo’s mandatory philosophy and theology subjects—added upon by the two electives I chose—gives one an idea behind these legendary professors. Without this requirement, I doubt I would have shifted to this course I’m currently taking.
Thoughts of shifting from my math course were sporadically on my mind, but I always say I don’t know where to shift to. Ateneo gave me that destination, for sure. Those random times when I would just look at the wall and think about random things while my barber kept on playing with my hair? That’s philosophy.
Why? “Sapagkat ang pilosopiya ay ginagawa,” as one of the pillars of Ateneo philosophy likes to say.
I’m not a hipster, in the cultural connotation of the word, but I was never part of this portrait, this plan. I realize that the effect of my Pisay education to me is wrapped in this analogy: The pole vaulter sees the bar he is about to leap over. What does he do? He looks at his pole, and he carefully discards it someplace safe. He then appreciates the fact that he had an opportunity to see the bar; thus, when the day of competition arrives, he is in no shape to compete. What he has, though, are stories and reflection about himself—his interaction and feelings as he saw the bar, laid high and mighty meters above his head.
The “bar” in this analogy is the culture of high education that is permeated and cultivated by Pisay. I have stories to tell about my interactions with classmates and professors who have both gone to the Americas, to Europe, to Singapore, to Japan, and to other parts of the world to further exemplify their already solid education.
Me? I’m “stuck” in the Philippines.
Also, I’m “stuck” in a mathematics course I didn’t really like, not knowing the equations written on the board in a Statistics course. By the time my professor exclaimed, “This shouldn’t be new to you! This was already taught to you! I should be the only one new here!,” I knew I wouldn’t be staying long in the status quo.
Enter philosophy. The summer term before I took that fateful Statistics course, I took two philosophy electives. I took them because a close friend was prodding me to shift to philosophy, and because all Ateneans get two electives of their choice in their four- or five-year stay in the University, I decided to give it a chance; at the very least, I thought, I would have experienced what it’s like.
Since I already didn’t like my course and wanted badly to do something with it, I shifted to that same philosophy course a semester after.
Now, coming from a science high school background, I have no idea, for instance, who Heidegger, Levinas, and Derrida are. I have heard of Plato and Aristotle, sure, but I don’t know what they said or thought about in their time. Ateneo’s mandatory philosophy and theology subjects—added upon by the two electives I chose—gives one an idea behind these legendary professors. Without this requirement, I doubt I would have shifted to this course I’m currently taking.
Thoughts of shifting from my math course were sporadically on my mind, but I always say I don’t know where to shift to. Ateneo gave me that destination, for sure. Those random times when I would just look at the wall and think about random things while my barber kept on playing with my hair? That’s philosophy.
Why? “Sapagkat ang pilosopiya ay ginagawa,” as one of the pillars of Ateneo philosophy likes to say.
____________________________________________________
Marckie San Juan is a fourth year philosophy major. He likes to read interesting blog posts in the Internet and to talk with friends over milk tea.
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