Brent School’s Fr. Gabriel Dimanche: More than an Instructor, an Educator
April 14, 2002 | 12:00am
Sitting on his wicker settee, the 74-year-old Reverend Canon Gabriel Dimanche is a picture of contentment. The sun’s afternoon rays, lambent on his pinkish face, imbue him with an almost saintly glow–almost but not quite, for Father Dimanche’s eyes twinkle with an old rebel’s mischief and his smile is wry. He speaks with a slight lisp, a speech impediment that does not distract but instead adds to the charm of his French-inflected English. The semi-retired former Chairman of the Board and headmaster of Brent School has many tales to tell, the result of a natural flair for storytelling, a steel-trap memory, and a life well lived.
Dimanche was born in Philippeville, Belgium. The town shares its border with France, a nation that wasted little time in capitulating to Hitler’s war machine. A good part of his childhood was therefore lived under the baleful glare of occupying German troops during World War 2. The upshot was that he was schooled in German and Dutch, adding to his multilingual abilities since he was already fluent in his native French and knew more than a sprinkling of Flemish.
Asked when he finally heeded the calling for the priesthood, he answers, "Oh my goodness, it was the last year of high school when I realized I wanted to become a priest. I was around 17 years old. The idea of serving was very predominant and I just wanted to be a missionary. Also, I love traveling. My wife, who is from Sultan Kudarat, and I have a passion for traveling–we go out all the time. I wanted to go to Alaska. I didn’t even know about the Philippines!"
Trained by the Jesuits, the former Oblate of Mary still holds them in the highest regard. "I like the Jesuits," he says. "As far as I’m concerned, they are the greatest men in the Catholic Church."
His rebellious streak surfaced early–Dimanche was expelled for playing the trumpet inside the dormitory at night. Whether his expulsion was due to his musical preference (subversive bebop, perhaps?), the cacophony of his untamed instrument’s chords, or his misplaced exuberance, Dimanche will not say. He smiles at the memory, though, possibly recalling the difficulty his fellow seminarians experienced saying their nightly prayers.
Dimanche’s final break from the Catholic faith occurred in 1962, when he became an Episcopalian. Out of deference to the many friends he retains among the Catholic clergy, he is furtive about his reasons. He alludes, however, to disagreeing with his former faith’s weak stand against social inequalities. Like many Protestant defectors before him, Dimanche also admits to some difficulty accepting certain historically contentious Catholic doctrine.
"I’m ecumenical," he says. "But for me to remain in the Catholic church would have been an act of hypocrisy. It was a difficult decision because it meant renouncing many things and my family was hurt. But no regrets. I’m very friendly with (Catholic priests). Sometimes I go to a Catholic church–I have no problem with that. But I will not preach there anymore."
Ironically, it was the Jesuits themselves, the very order that educated Dimanche, who led the Counter-reformation after Martin Luther’s break-away all those centuries ago. Dimanche concedes that things may have turned out differently had the laity-empowering Vatican II concluded its proceedings earlier. "I was a radical. I welcomed Vatican II. The trouble was it came after I had left (the Catholic Church). I always say that if ever it had come before I left..." his voice trails off. "It was everything I was hoping for."
After a stint as chaplain for the Belgian Infantry supporting the paratrooper regiment in Zaire (formerly the Congo), Dimanche left Belgium for Sulu in 1956. It was a considerable leap of faith for the young missionary for he did not speak its people’s native tongue and had as yet only a rudimentary grasp of the English language.
"Sulu in the 50s was like paradise. Boracay is nothing to Sulu! It’s beautiful–the culture, the costumes, the women are fascinating. Muslims and Christians were living together. But there were already some bandits. As a matter of fact, the lowland Filipinos would never dare go into Sulu because there were pirates in the sea. But it was generally peaceful.
"As a missionary, I was welcomed by the people. We use to fish together. I couldn’t speak their language too well and they could not speak English. But they say silence is the language of wisdom. I didn’t stay too long, only a few months, because it was too hard to be by yourself."
From there, Dimanche was stationed in Cotabato, where he met his wife, Clenia Pastrado. They have been married for 42 years and have three sons–one of them is himself a teacher at Brent.
Dimanche attended the Church Divinity School of the Pacific in California then served as assistant chaplain of the University of California in Berkeley from 1963 to 1964. He returned to the Philippines and became chaplain and later dean of student affairs of Trinity College.
The Rt. Rev. Charles Henry Brent, the first Bishop of the Episcopal Church in the Philippines whom Dimanche describes as "one of the most impressive personalities of the 20th century", founded Brent School Baguio in 1909. By the time Dimanche joined Brent Baguio’s Board of directors in 1964, however, the school was falling apart.
James Halsema, in his book Bishop Brent’s Baguio School, The First 75 Years, writes: "The late 1960s and the 1970s were years of turbulence both for the world and Brent School. Vietnam created great problems for the United States but the student rebellion was global in scope… Misuse of drugs, including alcohol, and the carrying of weapons, once confined to adults, spread to teenagers and even to younger children."
Adding to the school’s ills were the dwindling enrollment rate and the resulting financial instability. By 1975, morale at the school had nose-dived as two Filipino teachers and some non-teaching workers demanded the current headmaster’s deportation. Writes Halsema, "By March a member reported to the board that the school was ‘in complete turmoil and a battlefield where all kinds of harassment, unethical attitudes and breaches of discipline prevail.’"
In one resolute move, then chairman of the board Bishop Benito Cabanban ordered the combatants to resign. Shortly after, Bishop Cabanban himself resigned and appointed Dimanche as his successor.
"I became chairman of the board for four years and this was a surprise to me!" says Dimanche, still incredulous. "A few months later we appointed a new headmaster and he left five days after, on the 4th of July–I remember that. He called me on the phone and he said he was depressed. He was all alone, you see, and Baguio when it rains is a very depressing place. So here I was, a few weeks before the start of the schoolyear, and I also had to become headmaster."
Still rector of the Holy Trinity Church in Forbes Park, Makati, Dimanche and his family moved to Baguio in 1976. He would drive to Manila to celebrate his church’s services every Sunday. Unlike previous headmasters, he did not succumb to denial–Dimanche confronted the school’s problems frankly.
"The major problem in Brent Baguio at the time was this: a boarding school needs clients and there were very few. Most of the kids were children of servicemen in Vietnam. And there was a drug problem. We solved that. It’s sad because the school has retained that reputation but that is no longer true. It used to be true in 1971 and ‘72–we have to be honest about that. We spoke to the US Ambassador who wrote a letter stating anyone caught using drugs would be sent home. Today, it is not a very wealthy school cash-wise but it is surviving," he says.
He fired underperforming teachers and made it clear to students that deportation was no idle threat. Everyone at the campus was sufficiently chastened. The alumni praised his work, bestowed on him an Award of Merit, and thanked him for being an "outstanding example of a dedicated priest and educator" whose "administration will long be remembered as the turning point in the history of Brent School." But, as Halsema states, it was not the last time that Dimanche would come to the rescue.
Dimanche became headmaster a second time when Brent Pasig was established in1984. By 1995, he longed for the tranquility of retired life but was instead asked to start a new Brent School in Subic, Zambales. It would be his final involvement with Brent. "I like to go and see the people and the kids of Brent but the job was a bit hard. Everyday at quarter to six you had to get up," he says. His wife gently points out that he rises from bed at the same time anyway even in retirement. He replies, "But here at home, if I want to stay, I stay!"
"In Subic, Dick Gordon wanted to have a school there to attract investors. We started with nine kids and by the third year, we had 190. But then you had the politicking between Payumo and Gordon and then the economic crisis–so now we just have 140. It has real problems. The only ones that are going very well are the two chapters of Brent Manila, one in Pasig and the other in Mamplasa. They started building Brent Mamplasa in 1997 and now they have around 800 students."
Based on his vast experience, Dimanche explains his educational philosophy–but only after a lengthy dissertation on Plato, Aristotle and Descartes. "Thinking can, however, if left alone, be sterile. Feelings are needed for imagination and creativity…How can we teach the stars without being seized by and sharing our feelings about the wonder and immensity of the heavens? Students are like roses, they have thorns. They are not perfect. Neither are we. Yet we must go on loving them since we know that God loves them as he loves us inspite of all their, as well as our, imperfections."
It would be misguided to assume that Dimanche’s lofty philosophical idealism precludes any pragmatism with regard to what he considers Brent’s advantages. With typical candor, he says, "Most Filipino parents who enroll their children in Brent plan to send them to the United States or England later. Curriculum-wise–now I’m talking honestly–a kid from Ateneo or the other top Filipino schools knows Geometry or Science just as well or even better than a Brent student. But one thing that is happening in the Philippines is that the use of English is disappearing more and more because Filipino is supposed to be the language of instruction. This puts the kid at some sort of a handicap."
When asked if he is still willing to put out fires and reminded that "Reverend Canon" Dimanche is a mere step away from "Bishop" Dimanche, he exclaims, "Noooo, I’m too old! I’ll be 75 in December."
So what keeps the Brent School legend busy nowadays? "I write sermons and preach," he answers. "I just finished preaching in our seminaries in St. Andrews, near St. Luke’s Hospital. Some Sundays I preach in Brent Manila and others in Brent Baguio. So I have to prepare something but I’ve found out that I’m no longer as fast as I used to be! It takes me more time because I am easily distracted. After ten minutes, I play a game like solitaire on my computer. I also surf the Internet although I’m not very good at it. I use e-mail a lot, though."
Enjoy your high technology diversions, Fr. Dimanche. Lord knows, as do so many students and teachers, you have earned them.
Dimanche was born in Philippeville, Belgium. The town shares its border with France, a nation that wasted little time in capitulating to Hitler’s war machine. A good part of his childhood was therefore lived under the baleful glare of occupying German troops during World War 2. The upshot was that he was schooled in German and Dutch, adding to his multilingual abilities since he was already fluent in his native French and knew more than a sprinkling of Flemish.
Asked when he finally heeded the calling for the priesthood, he answers, "Oh my goodness, it was the last year of high school when I realized I wanted to become a priest. I was around 17 years old. The idea of serving was very predominant and I just wanted to be a missionary. Also, I love traveling. My wife, who is from Sultan Kudarat, and I have a passion for traveling–we go out all the time. I wanted to go to Alaska. I didn’t even know about the Philippines!"
Trained by the Jesuits, the former Oblate of Mary still holds them in the highest regard. "I like the Jesuits," he says. "As far as I’m concerned, they are the greatest men in the Catholic Church."
His rebellious streak surfaced early–Dimanche was expelled for playing the trumpet inside the dormitory at night. Whether his expulsion was due to his musical preference (subversive bebop, perhaps?), the cacophony of his untamed instrument’s chords, or his misplaced exuberance, Dimanche will not say. He smiles at the memory, though, possibly recalling the difficulty his fellow seminarians experienced saying their nightly prayers.
Dimanche’s final break from the Catholic faith occurred in 1962, when he became an Episcopalian. Out of deference to the many friends he retains among the Catholic clergy, he is furtive about his reasons. He alludes, however, to disagreeing with his former faith’s weak stand against social inequalities. Like many Protestant defectors before him, Dimanche also admits to some difficulty accepting certain historically contentious Catholic doctrine.
"I’m ecumenical," he says. "But for me to remain in the Catholic church would have been an act of hypocrisy. It was a difficult decision because it meant renouncing many things and my family was hurt. But no regrets. I’m very friendly with (Catholic priests). Sometimes I go to a Catholic church–I have no problem with that. But I will not preach there anymore."
Ironically, it was the Jesuits themselves, the very order that educated Dimanche, who led the Counter-reformation after Martin Luther’s break-away all those centuries ago. Dimanche concedes that things may have turned out differently had the laity-empowering Vatican II concluded its proceedings earlier. "I was a radical. I welcomed Vatican II. The trouble was it came after I had left (the Catholic Church). I always say that if ever it had come before I left..." his voice trails off. "It was everything I was hoping for."
After a stint as chaplain for the Belgian Infantry supporting the paratrooper regiment in Zaire (formerly the Congo), Dimanche left Belgium for Sulu in 1956. It was a considerable leap of faith for the young missionary for he did not speak its people’s native tongue and had as yet only a rudimentary grasp of the English language.
"Sulu in the 50s was like paradise. Boracay is nothing to Sulu! It’s beautiful–the culture, the costumes, the women are fascinating. Muslims and Christians were living together. But there were already some bandits. As a matter of fact, the lowland Filipinos would never dare go into Sulu because there were pirates in the sea. But it was generally peaceful.
"As a missionary, I was welcomed by the people. We use to fish together. I couldn’t speak their language too well and they could not speak English. But they say silence is the language of wisdom. I didn’t stay too long, only a few months, because it was too hard to be by yourself."
From there, Dimanche was stationed in Cotabato, where he met his wife, Clenia Pastrado. They have been married for 42 years and have three sons–one of them is himself a teacher at Brent.
Dimanche attended the Church Divinity School of the Pacific in California then served as assistant chaplain of the University of California in Berkeley from 1963 to 1964. He returned to the Philippines and became chaplain and later dean of student affairs of Trinity College.
The Rt. Rev. Charles Henry Brent, the first Bishop of the Episcopal Church in the Philippines whom Dimanche describes as "one of the most impressive personalities of the 20th century", founded Brent School Baguio in 1909. By the time Dimanche joined Brent Baguio’s Board of directors in 1964, however, the school was falling apart.
James Halsema, in his book Bishop Brent’s Baguio School, The First 75 Years, writes: "The late 1960s and the 1970s were years of turbulence both for the world and Brent School. Vietnam created great problems for the United States but the student rebellion was global in scope… Misuse of drugs, including alcohol, and the carrying of weapons, once confined to adults, spread to teenagers and even to younger children."
Adding to the school’s ills were the dwindling enrollment rate and the resulting financial instability. By 1975, morale at the school had nose-dived as two Filipino teachers and some non-teaching workers demanded the current headmaster’s deportation. Writes Halsema, "By March a member reported to the board that the school was ‘in complete turmoil and a battlefield where all kinds of harassment, unethical attitudes and breaches of discipline prevail.’"
In one resolute move, then chairman of the board Bishop Benito Cabanban ordered the combatants to resign. Shortly after, Bishop Cabanban himself resigned and appointed Dimanche as his successor.
"I became chairman of the board for four years and this was a surprise to me!" says Dimanche, still incredulous. "A few months later we appointed a new headmaster and he left five days after, on the 4th of July–I remember that. He called me on the phone and he said he was depressed. He was all alone, you see, and Baguio when it rains is a very depressing place. So here I was, a few weeks before the start of the schoolyear, and I also had to become headmaster."
Still rector of the Holy Trinity Church in Forbes Park, Makati, Dimanche and his family moved to Baguio in 1976. He would drive to Manila to celebrate his church’s services every Sunday. Unlike previous headmasters, he did not succumb to denial–Dimanche confronted the school’s problems frankly.
"The major problem in Brent Baguio at the time was this: a boarding school needs clients and there were very few. Most of the kids were children of servicemen in Vietnam. And there was a drug problem. We solved that. It’s sad because the school has retained that reputation but that is no longer true. It used to be true in 1971 and ‘72–we have to be honest about that. We spoke to the US Ambassador who wrote a letter stating anyone caught using drugs would be sent home. Today, it is not a very wealthy school cash-wise but it is surviving," he says.
He fired underperforming teachers and made it clear to students that deportation was no idle threat. Everyone at the campus was sufficiently chastened. The alumni praised his work, bestowed on him an Award of Merit, and thanked him for being an "outstanding example of a dedicated priest and educator" whose "administration will long be remembered as the turning point in the history of Brent School." But, as Halsema states, it was not the last time that Dimanche would come to the rescue.
Dimanche became headmaster a second time when Brent Pasig was established in1984. By 1995, he longed for the tranquility of retired life but was instead asked to start a new Brent School in Subic, Zambales. It would be his final involvement with Brent. "I like to go and see the people and the kids of Brent but the job was a bit hard. Everyday at quarter to six you had to get up," he says. His wife gently points out that he rises from bed at the same time anyway even in retirement. He replies, "But here at home, if I want to stay, I stay!"
"In Subic, Dick Gordon wanted to have a school there to attract investors. We started with nine kids and by the third year, we had 190. But then you had the politicking between Payumo and Gordon and then the economic crisis–so now we just have 140. It has real problems. The only ones that are going very well are the two chapters of Brent Manila, one in Pasig and the other in Mamplasa. They started building Brent Mamplasa in 1997 and now they have around 800 students."
Based on his vast experience, Dimanche explains his educational philosophy–but only after a lengthy dissertation on Plato, Aristotle and Descartes. "Thinking can, however, if left alone, be sterile. Feelings are needed for imagination and creativity…How can we teach the stars without being seized by and sharing our feelings about the wonder and immensity of the heavens? Students are like roses, they have thorns. They are not perfect. Neither are we. Yet we must go on loving them since we know that God loves them as he loves us inspite of all their, as well as our, imperfections."
It would be misguided to assume that Dimanche’s lofty philosophical idealism precludes any pragmatism with regard to what he considers Brent’s advantages. With typical candor, he says, "Most Filipino parents who enroll their children in Brent plan to send them to the United States or England later. Curriculum-wise–now I’m talking honestly–a kid from Ateneo or the other top Filipino schools knows Geometry or Science just as well or even better than a Brent student. But one thing that is happening in the Philippines is that the use of English is disappearing more and more because Filipino is supposed to be the language of instruction. This puts the kid at some sort of a handicap."
When asked if he is still willing to put out fires and reminded that "Reverend Canon" Dimanche is a mere step away from "Bishop" Dimanche, he exclaims, "Noooo, I’m too old! I’ll be 75 in December."
So what keeps the Brent School legend busy nowadays? "I write sermons and preach," he answers. "I just finished preaching in our seminaries in St. Andrews, near St. Luke’s Hospital. Some Sundays I preach in Brent Manila and others in Brent Baguio. So I have to prepare something but I’ve found out that I’m no longer as fast as I used to be! It takes me more time because I am easily distracted. After ten minutes, I play a game like solitaire on my computer. I also surf the Internet although I’m not very good at it. I use e-mail a lot, though."
Enjoy your high technology diversions, Fr. Dimanche. Lord knows, as do so many students and teachers, you have earned them.
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