METROPOST


OCTOBER 29 - NOVEMBER 4, 2017 OPINION 5 MICHAEL O’RIORDAN


OUTSIDE LOOKING IN


’ve just experienced my first tropical storm, cyclone, typhoon...whatever term you want to call it. Following are my thoughts about this interesting experience as they unfolded:


I


everywhere even though it’s morning. I’m writing with the assistance of candlelight. We’ve had a brownout here in the mountains since Wednesday. Shortly before dawn today, thunder began rolling angrily over the mountain, while steaks of lightning briefly lit the darkness. A temporary silence before heavy sheets of first rain, something that almost sounded like hailstones. Looking out, I noticed a cloak of mist descend in ominous silence. The valley and mountainside disappeared, then inevitably, the ocean and Cebu island beyond. Sometimes I’m a complete fool, forgetting to learn from previous experiences when bad weather prohibited me from getting down the mountain to the town proper of Valencia. So apart from a bag of brown rice, I have no food in the house. My meals, cooked on a camping primus stove, are limited to rice, rice, and more rice until this weather system blows over.


Thursday. It’s almost dark


When I explain ‘mountain life’ to friends in Ireland and America, they sympathize with me. They think I’m crazy, thinking that my existence is primitive.


believe that most aspects of my life here in the mountain are brilliant. For me, the noise, the huge numbers of bustling people, and the pollution in the


I completely disagree. I


cities is what’s primitive. I’ll now go and meditate upstairs for an hour while mother nature runs wild. Friday. It’s impossible to


get out of Valencia for a 7.30 am meeting at the university. Waves of never-ending rain, cheered on by violent winds, make it impossible for me to even go outside the house. Tall coconut trees have been uprooted and tossed around like leaves. I hear Dumaguete has major problems with flooding, and some important bridges have been destroyed. I remember the last major earthquake in San Francisco, California. I was stuck high on a mountain range when weather conditions suddenly changed within minutes, creating deadly conditions. And I was sailing under gale force winds. This experience above the town proper of Valencia is the closest to the nautical adventure because of the rains and winds. But at sea, we would have had difficulty surviving the power at present being unleashed. I feel a sense of helplessness as I watch the turmoil outside. Tree branches slapped the structure on all sides but paid special attention to punishing the large window panes. The winds today howled even angrier than they did yesterday; it almost seems inevitable this solid building will soon be uprooted and thrown down the mountainside.


Occasionally, an eerie silence settles over everything. The winds briefly quieten, as do the rains, but comfort is soon dispelled when the process begins yet again with


NORM SCHRIEVER


NOT THE NORM


hi@normschriever.com


lease join me in sending love and best wishes to my little friend, Liza Mae. For those of you who don’t know her, this smiling and spirited 10-year old girl from Cebu has been bravely fighting cancer.


P


Sadly, she’s now coming to the end of her fight.


through the Everlasting Hope, an organization in Cebu that raises funds and manages care for poor kids with cancer. When they told me about Liza Mae, a little girl afflicted with a terrible tumor


I first came across her


on her face, I wanted to help. Her father long gone, only her mother was left to take care of Liza Mae when she first got sick and the tumor started growing. It grew alarmingly quickly, but still, there was no money to go to the hospital, or even for a simple doctor’s visit. So I posted some photos and told her story on Facebook and was amazed when d o natio ns started coming in, from people a world away that had never even been to the Philippines, as well as humble F ilipino friends who were touched by her story. Charlot, a young single mother who


barely makes ends meet by working the night shift at a hotel, gave her entire week’s salary for Liza Mae.


“Tell her to be strong; that someone is praying for her from far away; tell her to hold on tight and fight; that she needs to keep her hopes up. No matter what,” Charlot messaged me.


With our donations, Everlasting Hope was able to get her to the doctor, and then specialists, and finally to the hospital for blood transfusions


and then the start of an eight-course chemotherapy treatment. I even got to visit Liza Mae and her mother when I was in Cebu. They lived near the port among shantytowns, but they were even worse off, staying in a shack in the parking lot of a truck stop. They didn’t even


have running water or a CR, and had to run outside – and pay a coin - to use a neighbor’s facilities.


protect her from germs that could cause infection, although she lives amid squalor and flies. Liza Mae sat on her mother’s lap. She was so skinny, a cotton swab taped to her hand from a recent IV, a hospital ID bracelet hanging from her emaciated wrist.


Sunshine for Liza Mae


soon warmed up, peeking a smile out from her mother’s embrace. I


She was shy at first but


found out that Liza Mae is still like any other kid, despite her terrible condition, including a love of chicharron, ice cream, and Jollibee fried chicken. Before I had to leave, she


wanted to give me a high five and present me with some artwork that she’d colored.


TO PAGE 11 I wore a surgical mask to EULOGY By Jorge Sebastian Ponce de Leon irishauthormichaelcassidy@gmail.com


even more intense ferocity. Angry banshees raise their skeletal arms demanding destruction. I sit nervously observing the momentum build, the noise level more unrestrained than before. My earlier sense of euphoria is replaced by butterflies in my stomach dancing a wild, Irish gig.


Saturday. I wake to a deafening silence. Oh joy! No howling winds or lashing rain. But the gentleness doesn’t last long. Back comes the madness, somehow angrier, wilder than before. My initial intrigue with this experience is quickly waning. I still have some rice left.


And I’m grateful to have something to eat. I’m also fully aware that I’m one of the few privileged people up on a mountain and, to a lesser extent, just close to Dumaguete. Almost everyone else up here is wet, have no warm clothes, have limited or no food. A number, even before the event, didn’t have a solid roof over their heads. Because I was a homeless street person in my earlier life, I always appreciate having a roof over my head. I rejoice in having the basic life necessities that many others do not enjoy. Sunday. Still not good, but it’s slightly better. Now the rice is all gone so I have to somehow get to Dumaguete for supplies. But it’s also horrible down there with severe rains and lots of flooding. Monday. I wake up again to a deafening silence. Looking out the window, I am surprised to see occasional fingers of blue sky behind


TO PAGE 8


Bessie Larena Ponce de Leon -- The world just lost one of its most beautiful people. The heavens may be joyfully singing with choirs and cherubs welcoming their Angel back home, but down here on earth, we are all stricken with grief. It’s a hard fact to accept. I had lost a ‘mother’. A lot of us did. A selfless woman of compassion, patience, strength, courage, integrity, love...and so much more. I really could go on, but words are enough to express the magnitude of the loss we must all endure. It is true that God does not give us more than we can handle. Having birthed two children -- my mom Menka and my Tito Popong -- this supermom played her role for so many of us -- from Papa Dino, Papa Desi, Tita Angela, to me and my sister Enia, and later to Tito Butchokoy, Tito John, Tita Carmel, Papa Rey and Tita Angelique. She was always there for anything and everything, she was there for everyone. Never a dull companion, our mom would be quick to join us for nights of laughter and good fun. She was always smiling, she was always trying to make people as happy as she was -- and when times called for it, she was firm, yet inimitably understanding. She was a tremendously wonderful person. I don’t think any living being could have done what she did. Her huge heart made so many things possible for us. She


raised so many of us to be who we are today. I am thankful to have been blessed with such a kind, sweet, and not to mention, extremely fun woman for a mother. You can ask anyone. They can tell you hundreds of stories about our Mama Bessie --and not one of them could tell you anything bad about her. That’s just who she was, an unbelievably beautiful woman who knew how to give love. I remember all of us spontaneously gathered in Bantayan a few


weeks back. Papa Dino, Papa Rey; both my moms -- Mama Menka and Mama Bessie, spending a night of reminiscing and drinking together. I remember the stories about how Mama Bessie took care of everyone, how she was always there for anybody in need. Tita Bulelang and Tito Darl were with me and Papa Jorge at lunch, too, reminiscing to days of their adventures all over the country, celebrating life, and enjoying wonderful moments together.


Passing at her tender age of 68, it feels as though Mama Bessie hadn’t aged a day past 50. Even my friends and relatives my age would agree that Mama Bessie hadn’t aged one bit. It’s an unreal experience, having to see her go. She is, and will forever be, sorely


GEMMA MINDA ISO


JOYOUSLY SINGLE


legis616821@gmail.com S


ingle parents want to do too much for their kids, more than married parents do. This is not because they are better parents but because -- unlike the married parents -- the single parents have a drawn-out string of fears and apprehensions about how their children will become in the future.


This string of anxieties stem from the many hardships that these single parents went through or are still going through. Thus, the single parents spoon-feed their children excessively. They want to make life easy for their kids not realizing that the over- protection they have shown is what will make the children become risk-averse when they become adults. Such kind of “protective covering” is what will make the kids turn out to become frightened adults, the kind who cannot make decisions because they are afraid of making a mistake. “Spoon-feeding” We usually use the term spoon-feeding in our daily conversations, but what does it really mean? In the field of education, spoon-feeding is any activity or attempt that could prevent possible mental development by doing for the learner what the learner could have done for himself/herself (Mohanan, 2000). In a 2009 paper entitled Does Spoon- feeding Impede Independent Learning?, the authors Samah, Jusoff and Silong presented a specific view on the spoon- feeding culture. They defined it as “stealing an opportunity from your student to think or act on their own.” This means that not only are you


not offering anything of value by spoon-feeding but also depriving your students of something vital. In the area of parenting, a parent who spoon- feeds is definitely the parent who robs away children’s chance of seeing the world as it is and taking away from them the opportunity to figure out how to react and respond to the challenges they meet along the way in the course of their lives. “Its because of me”


mindset


more inclined to spoon-fed than married parents? A prevailing mindset which strongly influences a single parent’s behavior and decision- making is the “its because of me” mentality.


But why are single parents


determinant. So instead of blaming one’s self, the single mom should bear in mind that for their children to grow up responsible and productive adults, they need to be caring but not “hovering,” authoritative but not authoritarian, supportive but not indulgent.


But what is a caring, authoritative, and supportive parent? This is the parent who takes away the “spoon” and allows the child to “feed on his/her own” but continues to watch over the child while she/he “struggles with the spoon.” What do I mean by this?


Single parenting 101: Take away that spoon


parent is bullied in school (or anywhere else), or a teenager gets pregnant or becomes addicted to alcohol/drugs, or perhaps, the young person gets into an untimely marriage, the single parent usually thinks it is because that child/teenager does not have a father (or father image) at home and she (single mom) is to be held accountable.


When a child of a single


especially single mothers, hide their children from the realities of life. This is because they love their kids. However, this kind of love can be detrimental to the children’s intellectual, emotional, and spiritual well- being.


Many parents, most


missed. Everybody has such beautiful memories of her, and with her. It makes me happy to know she lived a full life. She got to see the world, she got to enjoy her beers and cigarettes, she got to have so much fun with her babies (and yes, I mean all of us). I guess I just don’t want to admit the fact that this is it. I still hope that this is all a bad dream I can wake up from. But the bitter truth is that it’s not. We will all heal and accept this pain eventually. But there will never be a day when she will not be missed. Mama Bessie, I love you so much. You are so beautiful, and the world loves you just as much as we do. Enjoy paradise, and thank you for giving us the best gift of all -- the unconditional and undying love of a mother. Until I see you again, Mom. I love you.


This is a destructive outlook. Single mothers should stop taking the blame on bad things that happen to their kids. Bullying, drug addiction, untimely pregnancy or marriage -- are facts of life. These things can happen to anyone and having a single mom or a married mom is just incidental. While it is true that the situation of a mother is a factor when a child gets into trouble, it is not a strong


Life in this world is hard, we all know that, the very reason why we human beings struggle and strive. Its not just to survive but to achieve what we think we deserve. Therefore, when children do not witness these struggles, when they are too sheltered, they will eventually have a different perspective of life -- a life where hunger, poverty, illness, criminality, harassment, and inequality do not exist. As a result, they miss out on the processes of human existence. They are also deprived of the chance to be creative, to engage in critical thinking, and to use whatever talents and capabilities God has lent them.


Being too protective of TO PAGE 11


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