A green harvest

As a professional writer and editor, I get to work on a lot of book projects, and now and then some projects mean a little more to me than others, because of a personal connection with the subject. Two such books came out recently, both having to do with the Lasallian Centennial in the Philippines, a continuing celebration that began in mid-2011. I wrote With Hearts Aflame, a history of the La Salle Brothers in the Philippines, and edited and contributed to The Future Begins Here, a compendium of Lasallian achievements in various fields of endeavor, from business and public service to sports and culture, among others. (Full disclosure: I went to La Salle Green Hills from Prep to Grade 7, 1960-66.)

Many people think of La Salle as a rich kids’ school, and indeed it was so for the greater part of its past century — an irony considering its original mission of serving the poor — but that came about only because the Brothers had practically been ordered by the Pope to set up shop in the Philippines even when they could scarcely afford it, and teaching little señoritos proved to be the way forward. In any event, the Brothers have since pursued an apostolate more focused on the poor

Among all the inspiring stories I came to hear and to write about the Brothers, none touched me more than that of Br. Antonio “Bong” Servando who, as I noted in the book, “has spent nearly three decades as a Brother and has felt deeply fulfilled by them. As Vice-Chancellor for Administration for De La Salle Lipa, Br. Bong can look back to a long string of challenges and achievements in his career, but two incidents stand out for him for making an impact on his life as a Brother.

“The first took place when he was assigned to teach at the Holy Rosary College within the Tala Leprosarium in 1987. He recalls: ‘I had a student by the name of Isabel, who was about 16 years old already but because of leprosy, her body structure was like that of a Grade 6 kid. She was relatively participative in our class and eager to learn. A few days later I noticed that she was absent and I asked about her from her classmates. I was told that she was having a reaction — a term they use when her leprosy causes skin ulcers and the patient suddenly becomes very weak. I said that I would visit her that weekend if the students could bring me to her Quonset hut, a prefabricated structure, like a half-moon.

“‘As we entered the Quonset for single ladies, I saw Isabel lying on a bed under a mosquito net. A friend covered her private parts and used a fan to comfort her. There were skin ulcers all over her body — waterous, with a little blood dripping slowly — the way your skin would look if it had been rubbed against a rough cement wall. It was my first time to see such a condition. After the usual Kumusta na, she told me, “Brother, after I get well, I will go back to school.” 

 “‘At that time, I was enrolled for my MA units in DLSU on weekends, and it felt like such a chore for me to do because of the all the jeepney and LRT rides I had to take to get from Tala to Taft. It struck me to realize that here was Isabel, vowing to return to school as soon as she recovered, and here I was, able-bodied but too lazy to go to school. To make a long story short, she became my inspiration for my studies.

“‘In 2005, I was in my second year as an administrator in La Salle Ozamis. La Salle Ozamis prides itself on having over 200 working students on its campus. This is the best way Lasallian education can be made available through a scholarship program. As I made my rounds, I entered the Nursing library and greeted the working students assigned there. Then I saw Nelchie who was sunburnt, and I teased her, saying that she must have gone swimming over the weekend with friends and loved ones. Then she said, “No, Brother, on weekends I go to my grandmother’s farm and harvest rice. From whatever I harvest, I will be given some money for my allowance for the month.” After the usual pleasantries, as I left the library, Nelchie’s reply continued to challenge me.

“‘These two stories reminded me that in education, it is not only the teacher who teaches the students, but the students also teach the teacher, sometimes on a higher level of learning.”

The Future Begins Here is more celebratory, looking back on a century of Lasallian accomplishments and achievers. After an introduction by longtime La Salle literary guru Isagani Cruz, I open the book with a chapter on the La Salle Brothers, an excerpt from my longer book. Architect and heritage advocate Augusto “Toti” Villalon then draws us into the rich history of the St. La Salle Hall on Taft Avenue, in one hallowed corner of which 17 Brothers were martyred by retreating Japanese soldiers in February 1945.

Former Presidential Management Staff chief Elfren Cruz and his son Leandro write about “Movers of Growth and Progress: Lasallians in Business,” an understandably long chapter that resonates with such surnames as Araneta, Ortigas, del Rosario, Consunji, Yuchengco, Cojuangco, Paterno, Mapa, and Concepcion, among many others. The same father-and-son team then introduces us to Lasallians in public service: Jose W. Diokno and Lorenzo M. Tañada, foremostly, all the way to a host of senators and Cabinet members — eight of them working with the Atenean incumbent in the Palace.

One of the book’s most gung-ho chapters is, not surprisingly, the one on Lasallian sports, written by no less than the “Dean” himself, Quinito Henson. Here’s an interesting factoid from that chapter: “Ironically, La Salle’s colors in the Rome motherhouse were blue and gold. But Br. John’s Irish lineage influenced the preference for green. White was the other primary color symbolizing the Philippines as the ‘pearl of the Orient seas.’ It wasn’t until 1939 that La Salle dubbed its senior varsity basketball players the Green Archers, owing to the precision shooting of the stars from the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) champion squad that year.”

Prof. Renato de Castro writes on the social sciences and Prof. Alvin Culaba on the science and technology in La Salle; author Carla Pacis explores arts and culture in La Salle; and fictionist and biographer Charlson Ong brings up the rear with another take on “green,” La Salle’s commitment to the environment.

Handsomely designed and produced by Studio 5 Designs, The Future Begins Here is the yearbook to end all yearbooks, as far as Lasallians might be concerned. But for the public at large, it’s also a compelling piece of social history — the story of how one school helped shaped a country’s social, political, and economic life in a way that not even the largest American universities can lay claim to.

I always feel privileged to be part of projects like this, especially because, as the editor, I get to see everything first. When I write or edit a book, I always ask myself, “Is this a book I’d like to read?” In these two cases, the answer was easily yes.

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(Anyone interested in a copy of The Future Begins Here can write Marily Orosa of Studio 5 Designs at marilyo@yahoo.com.)

E-mail me at penmanila@yahoo.com and check out my blog at www.penmanila.ph.