Third Year in UP
20210809
How come you’re here? Certainly, this one’s different as I wouldn’t share a link to my social media unlike before because of some very personal content. Intrigued? Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
This is the next entry for my UP slash college journey slash sharing-too-much-than-I-should-about-my-life blog entry. Because why not? I only do this once a year or two…and it’s always better to share your life with a stranger, isn’t it? Only that you’re not a stranger, are you? Regardless, I don’t mind; it’s not like you would tell me you’ve read this, or would you? Don’t. Perhaps it’s better that you keep being a silent reader, as you’ve always been because I have a confession to make.
Or confessions, rather.
Alright, where were we? Ikalawang Taon sa UP (theboywhostutters.blogspot.com)
A life crisis. Pandemic. Second Year.
Ugh… it was the second year, an ‘early’ quarter-life crisis, then a pandemic and a life crisis again.
Now I’m through with my third year. But I’m definitely not over with the crises as they never stopped.
A lot has happened, yet I feel there’s nothing much changed. I am still where I was a year ago. At home. But isn’t everyone? I wish that makes it better. I wish I have a choice like before when the ending of the world was not yet fast-tracked. The world is ending, yes, and I am complaining about the inconvenience of isolation. Why shouldn’t I? It’s a time of my life getting stolen before my eyes by people who are in control or supposed to be in control of the situation, but they pretend to be powerless against the invisible. But the invisible is not invincible. The country is a year late to realize that, assuming we’ve learned.
I hesitated to enroll. I was about to enter my junior year and that means higher classes. I’m done with their prerequisites and so I have the freedom to advance or delay any units. It was all on me. I had a choice, or so I thought. I was still conscious of my own expectations no matter how I appear to be fluid with my decisions. The control freak that I am would always prevail. But my calculations weren’t always correct. In the time of the pandemic, nothing and no one can ever be certain. The first semester was a bold trial of the online setup. We just wanted to be back to normal no matter how remote we were to the actual norm. Education never stops; truly it does not. The world never stops turning so why should we? We persisted until we burned the last match. It’s a miracle we kept the fire burning when we’ve lost all the fuel from the constant incompetence and ignorance of the people and the state. But have we? What fire are we burning? Is it still our dreams or our survival and hope that tomorrow we will see light? Can someone tell me how long this dark tunnel will be so I can know how to save the remaining fuel in me if there is anything left at all.
In the first semester of my third year, the first pandemic semester, I only took 12 units (4 courses). That was considered underload, but the University adjusted its academic policies as national education resumes remotely online with great consideration to the collective and individual struggle of students. It was a new era of schooling, or was it? I would still be eligible for Latin honors, as if it mattered during that time.
FILM 103 History of World Cinema
A higher course that introduced me to the life of cinema in different times and spaces: from silent to sound, from black and white to color, from newsreels to Hollywood, and from West to East. I got to watch some of the canonical films that the world has revered [and obscured] like Citizen Kane (1941), Rashomon (1950), I am Cuba (1964), Battle of Algiers (1966), The Conformist (1970).
A final critical paper was expected from the class, and I wrote about the challenges and crises World Cinema has faced over its existence. The Crises and Challenges in World Cinema – SineSalita (wordpress.com)
FILM 132 Documentary Film
This was supposed to be a production class, and it still was. However, given the national situation that disrupted our personal lives, the professor opted to defer the original film requirement. Such a move was the greatest lesson I got from this class. Compassion.
Would we continue our assignments knowing the reality happening outside of our screens? It may be construed as counterproductive and futile even, but I believe it was reflective of what the class aims to teach: timing is everything. To document is to record time, live through it, and relive it. Despite having conducted preproduction with our approved and developed concepts, we couldn’t pour from an empty cup. The pandemic is costing us our sanity, and this class understood. It taught me that if we are to be documentary filmmakers, we must be one with the people. But first, we shall not forget that we are the people, and our films will be created at the right time.
Here’s my Reflection on the Documentary Film Class and What Could Have Been. Tastebuds and Saliva (theboywhostutters.blogspot.com)
FILM 156 Production Design
A break from purely theoretical lessons, this class institutes learning with practice. Several activities were challenging but rewarding as I got to learn and experience the role of production design in films.
We visualized our movie posters, made props, stylized them, rebranded a brand, dissected a sequence, planned for a sequence, and constructed a design in the limits of our homes.
STS 1 Science, Technology and Society
A GE course away from my major units but is relevant as ever. I had to relearn the basics of science and technology and unlearn their exclusivity as they intersect with society. The class covers historical, cultural, and political perspectives of the interaction of the three. And it is indeed a TATAK UP education with its multidimensional and critical lessons on the economic and environmental impact of our actions.
--
The first semester was bearable, and the schooling mechanics would last for a year or so. There was a call for academic freeze once again as we conclude because of consecutive typhoons and a constant increase in COVID cases. We persisted like crazy. Only if I could articulate the toll it took on me. I may rightly do so now.
At the outset, I have shown symptoms of the common flu in September as the semester commenced. The cough made me stay late at night for the months to follow. I should have gone to the doctor when it lasted for a week or two but due to the fear of contracting the virus, I prevented myself. Two weeks became two months until I woke up one morning in November and spat bloody phlegm onto the sink. With no hesitation, I texted my mom that I must finally see a doctor. And I did. As I should have.
The initial diagnosis was asthma. I was starting the medication for asthma as I awaited the results of the x-ray. The clinical diagnosis was pulmonary tuberculosis. I had to take a sputum test over the municipal health center (because it's free) and the bacterial diagnosis confirmed the disease.
I immediately googled it and regretted what I saw.
I don’t have the slightest idea how or where I got it. Perhaps given my weak body, the rare times I’ve gone to the market with complete protection and all couldn’t save me, or maybe it’s my irresponsible family who accepts visitors without fear despite the contagion. Although there’s a theory that I’ve gotten it from the metro while I was still there but that was before lockdown, it might be a latent TB after all. I don’t know. To think was futile because what could I have done but regret my neglect? Yet I couldn’t help but guess. Did the lockdown depression become a stressor to my health that aggravated all defenses left? Perversely, I wanted to die to be done with it.
Having an absent family surely made it worse. For their attempt to treat me normally showed ignorance of my condition. Well they didn’t know better and I didn’t bother so what should I have expected? Thankfully I’ve had support systems – two of which were TB survivors – little did I know until I shared what was happening to me. To RB and CA, thank you for saving me multiple times. My paternal grandmother stood by me when I couldn’t even stand for myself. She understood life and death and she wants me to choose the former. I did. I just hoped it was the right thing to do. Living isn’t always worth it, is it?
I’ve lost a significant amount of weight over the months of lockdown. My mind and body were deteriorating. I couldn’t even look at the mirror because all I could see was skin and bones; not that I haven’t seen the same thing ever since. But it was worse and real. My dad made one comment about it when I subconsciously keep wearing those loose shirts that further define my thinness. He would only discover why I was losing weight. I wonder what he felt. Now I realized why my monthly allowance doubled. You see, he’s more often a man of actions than words. I wish I can ask for more. Not money but comfort beyond the material. Well, thanks to his company medical coverage for the family, I could manage the checkups by myself without bothering them. And thankfully, I didn’t have to ask for them to pay for my medicines (which they would certainly blame me for) because they are provided by the government for free.
Six months of medication and I was free. Six months after and I’m writing about it here. It’s been a year and a month since I discovered what I was suffering, why I have to turn off my camera because I couldn’t control my cough during my classes, and why I decided not to turn them on anymore so I couldn’t see my own skull among the faces on the screen. My body is my greatest insecurity, so imagine what losing weight feels like for someone who never got out of his 15-year-old weight even after teenage. Since then, people always assumed the worst – like I have AIDS, or am positive with HIV – just because I physically look sick. This comment comes from my sexual life, my past life where I was discriminated against by body preferences. I was reminded by the judgment when I had to take an optional HIV test when I was enlisting for the local TB treatment program because the diseases are apparently correlated. Sure why not? I haven’t had sex since lockdown, and I remember my last test result. It would be the same this time so there was nothing to fear. And there wasn’t. There were no free condoms or lube this time. I knew I would have a new life as I accepted the first box of medicine. It was also December. There were calls again for freezing the semester or mass promotion. I was finishing my requirements as I began my struggle with Tuberculosis.
Should I enroll for the second semester was the first question for the new year. I was holding a position in my college organization and had major plans. I told my committee and fellow officers. I thought they deserve to know. Until this blog, only the closest knew, and now you know too. But that was my past life already, a part that built who I am today and will be in the future, if there’s any.
I enrolled. I needed a distraction from the discomfort of having to prepare my own food because no one is going to cook for me. I hated my mother as I hated myself. My work and role in the organization practically kept me alive but I thought of continuing my study just because I didn’t want to contend with my family for not doing so.
In retrospect and with regret, I’ve taken an unexpected 18 units for the second pandemic semester. The jump from 12 to 18 definitely imposed greater responsibility and hence sacrifices as what a regular junior would have faced.
CRes 101 Introduction to Communication Research
A writing class that demonstrated the challenges of the online setup when we were grouped for the accomplishment of the requirements. The instructor is compassionate and pragmatic who really fosters a democratic learning environment. Given the pros and cons, we get to decide and enjoy relative flexibility. Yet any choice is without a struggle. For one, we had to let go of one of our groupmates due to their performance; they had poor connectivity and couldn’t commit to participating. It became our responsibility as we were faced with the dilemma of peer evaluation. Our groupmate couldn’t help because of their material conditions. We could only imagine the battles we never spoke about.
FILM 158 Directing
Normally, there is great anticipation among film students taking this class: the opportunity to produce your “formal” short film to be screened on the silver screen of Cine Adarna, a preparation for your thesis hence this class is considered a ‘mini-thesis’ from which the prestige and anxiety come. Yet I did not share such anticipation because for me it was just like any other class I have to take as an undergraduate. Taking it under pandemic totally erased any expectation I had because I knew the professors are adjusting their courses depending on the health protocols and policies since it is a production class. I honestly thought of delaying so that I could share the sentiments and take on the challenge of producing it traditionally (that is face to face production with a whole set of crew) but I felt my life was on a provision of my disease which might also explain why I took so many units for the sake of experience.
The class refreshed and added more basic knowledge on film language all film students should master. As a midterm requirement, I was able to produce a short film in the confines of my home. The class was comprehensive yet felt lacking because of the adjusted academic calendar and probably compromised syllabus that most if not all courses have to suffer.
FILM 159 Producing
Just like in my other film classes, I always feel honored being a student of acclaimed personalities in the industry. For one, who would teach producing best if not someone with a stellar credential and commendable practice in shaping our national cinema? Epicmedia’s CEO aims to build more producers than directors in the country (as most aspire for the latter over other available film disciplines like producing). This class certainly changed my perspective on filmmaking and the opportunities therein.
I got to learn the standard mechanisms of film production from preproduction to distribution with more practical knowledge and less theoretical skills. Yet everything is yet to be ‘real’ with real money for film inherently needs capital – both tangible and intangible capital.
FILM 172 Film Theory and Criticism II
A speaking and writing class. It provokes. It breaks and forms ideas. This is the second and higher film theory class with more difficult topics which mean more difficult conversations we have to engage to. Yet I felt it was easier than the first one as I get more comfortable with new and old ideas I have to learn, relearn, and unlearn. My love for cinema was challenged and reaffirmed with the issues concerning the moving pictures and the reality where they exist, where we exist.
Articulation matters and this class trains students to speak their minds, question ideas, and form perspectives when confronted by dilemmas and cinematic concerns. The professor is younger than the others and it really makes a difference if I may boldly claim. Such has implications for the kind of graduates the institute produces. The course opens opportunity outside film production (from which the curriculum is shaped) and foster film scholarship and media literacy. Nevertheless, the class is theoretically helpful to aspiring filmmakers when one day they are finally to make their films not only with proficiency but with responsibility.
SPAN 10 Elementary Course
Last but not least, as it is the most challenging among the units I’ve taken, I decided to take Spanish as my language elective. I’ve struggled given my speech condition, let alone the unorthodox approach of the language professor who goes beyond the practical purpose and makes it more theoretical, if not critical (which I would be thankful for as I’ve used his great lessons now that I’m taking Span 11).
20211230
--
How come you’re here? Certainly, this one’s different as I wouldn’t share a link to my social media unlike before because of some very personal content. Intrigued? Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
This is the next entry for my UP slash college journey slash sharing-too-much-than-I-should-about-my-life blog entry. Because why not? I only do this once a year or two…and it’s always better to share your life with a stranger, isn’t it? Only that you’re not a stranger, are you? Regardless, I don’t mind; it’s not like you would tell me you’ve read this, or would you? Don’t. Perhaps it’s better that you keep being a silent reader, as you’ve always been because I have a confession to make.
Or confessions, rather.
Alright, where were we? Ikalawang Taon sa UP (theboywhostutters.blogspot.com)
A life crisis. Pandemic. Second Year.
Ugh… it was the second year, an ‘early’ quarter-life crisis, then a pandemic and a life crisis again.
Now I’m through with my third year. But I’m definitely not over with the crises as they never stopped.
A lot has happened, yet I feel there’s nothing much changed. I am still where I was a year ago. At home. But isn’t everyone? I wish that makes it better. I wish I have a choice like before when the ending of the world was not yet fast-tracked. The world is ending, yes, and I am complaining about the inconvenience of isolation. Why shouldn’t I? It’s a time of my life getting stolen before my eyes by people who are in control or supposed to be in control of the situation, but they pretend to be powerless against the invisible. But the invisible is not invincible. The country is a year late to realize that, assuming we’ve learned.
I hesitated to enroll. I was about to enter my junior year and that means higher classes. I’m done with their prerequisites and so I have the freedom to advance or delay any units. It was all on me. I had a choice, or so I thought. I was still conscious of my own expectations no matter how I appear to be fluid with my decisions. The control freak that I am would always prevail. But my calculations weren’t always correct. In the time of the pandemic, nothing and no one can ever be certain. The first semester was a bold trial of the online setup. We just wanted to be back to normal no matter how remote we were to the actual norm. Education never stops; truly it does not. The world never stops turning so why should we? We persisted until we burned the last match. It’s a miracle we kept the fire burning when we’ve lost all the fuel from the constant incompetence and ignorance of the people and the state. But have we? What fire are we burning? Is it still our dreams or our survival and hope that tomorrow we will see light? Can someone tell me how long this dark tunnel will be so I can know how to save the remaining fuel in me if there is anything left at all.
In the first semester of my third year, the first pandemic semester, I only took 12 units (4 courses). That was considered underload, but the University adjusted its academic policies as national education resumes remotely online with great consideration to the collective and individual struggle of students. It was a new era of schooling, or was it? I would still be eligible for Latin honors, as if it mattered during that time.
FILM 103 History of World Cinema
A higher course that introduced me to the life of cinema in different times and spaces: from silent to sound, from black and white to color, from newsreels to Hollywood, and from West to East. I got to watch some of the canonical films that the world has revered [and obscured] like Citizen Kane (1941), Rashomon (1950), I am Cuba (1964), Battle of Algiers (1966), The Conformist (1970).
A final critical paper was expected from the class, and I wrote about the challenges and crises World Cinema has faced over its existence. The Crises and Challenges in World Cinema – SineSalita (wordpress.com)
FILM 132 Documentary Film
This was supposed to be a production class, and it still was. However, given the national situation that disrupted our personal lives, the professor opted to defer the original film requirement. Such a move was the greatest lesson I got from this class. Compassion.
Would we continue our assignments knowing the reality happening outside of our screens? It may be construed as counterproductive and futile even, but I believe it was reflective of what the class aims to teach: timing is everything. To document is to record time, live through it, and relive it. Despite having conducted preproduction with our approved and developed concepts, we couldn’t pour from an empty cup. The pandemic is costing us our sanity, and this class understood. It taught me that if we are to be documentary filmmakers, we must be one with the people. But first, we shall not forget that we are the people, and our films will be created at the right time.
Here’s my Reflection on the Documentary Film Class and What Could Have Been. Tastebuds and Saliva (theboywhostutters.blogspot.com)
FILM 156 Production Design
A break from purely theoretical lessons, this class institutes learning with practice. Several activities were challenging but rewarding as I got to learn and experience the role of production design in films.
We visualized our movie posters, made props, stylized them, rebranded a brand, dissected a sequence, planned for a sequence, and constructed a design in the limits of our homes.
STS 1 Science, Technology and Society
A GE course away from my major units but is relevant as ever. I had to relearn the basics of science and technology and unlearn their exclusivity as they intersect with society. The class covers historical, cultural, and political perspectives of the interaction of the three. And it is indeed a TATAK UP education with its multidimensional and critical lessons on the economic and environmental impact of our actions.
--
The first semester was bearable, and the schooling mechanics would last for a year or so. There was a call for academic freeze once again as we conclude because of consecutive typhoons and a constant increase in COVID cases. We persisted like crazy. Only if I could articulate the toll it took on me. I may rightly do so now.
At the outset, I have shown symptoms of the common flu in September as the semester commenced. The cough made me stay late at night for the months to follow. I should have gone to the doctor when it lasted for a week or two but due to the fear of contracting the virus, I prevented myself. Two weeks became two months until I woke up one morning in November and spat bloody phlegm onto the sink. With no hesitation, I texted my mom that I must finally see a doctor. And I did. As I should have.
The initial diagnosis was asthma. I was starting the medication for asthma as I awaited the results of the x-ray. The clinical diagnosis was pulmonary tuberculosis. I had to take a sputum test over the municipal health center (because it's free) and the bacterial diagnosis confirmed the disease.
I immediately googled it and regretted what I saw.
I don’t have the slightest idea how or where I got it. Perhaps given my weak body, the rare times I’ve gone to the market with complete protection and all couldn’t save me, or maybe it’s my irresponsible family who accepts visitors without fear despite the contagion. Although there’s a theory that I’ve gotten it from the metro while I was still there but that was before lockdown, it might be a latent TB after all. I don’t know. To think was futile because what could I have done but regret my neglect? Yet I couldn’t help but guess. Did the lockdown depression become a stressor to my health that aggravated all defenses left? Perversely, I wanted to die to be done with it.
Mind over matter.
Having an absent family surely made it worse. For their attempt to treat me normally showed ignorance of my condition. Well they didn’t know better and I didn’t bother so what should I have expected? Thankfully I’ve had support systems – two of which were TB survivors – little did I know until I shared what was happening to me. To RB and CA, thank you for saving me multiple times. My paternal grandmother stood by me when I couldn’t even stand for myself. She understood life and death and she wants me to choose the former. I did. I just hoped it was the right thing to do. Living isn’t always worth it, is it?
I’ve lost a significant amount of weight over the months of lockdown. My mind and body were deteriorating. I couldn’t even look at the mirror because all I could see was skin and bones; not that I haven’t seen the same thing ever since. But it was worse and real. My dad made one comment about it when I subconsciously keep wearing those loose shirts that further define my thinness. He would only discover why I was losing weight. I wonder what he felt. Now I realized why my monthly allowance doubled. You see, he’s more often a man of actions than words. I wish I can ask for more. Not money but comfort beyond the material. Well, thanks to his company medical coverage for the family, I could manage the checkups by myself without bothering them. And thankfully, I didn’t have to ask for them to pay for my medicines (which they would certainly blame me for) because they are provided by the government for free.
Six months of medication and I was free. Six months after and I’m writing about it here. It’s been a year and a month since I discovered what I was suffering, why I have to turn off my camera because I couldn’t control my cough during my classes, and why I decided not to turn them on anymore so I couldn’t see my own skull among the faces on the screen. My body is my greatest insecurity, so imagine what losing weight feels like for someone who never got out of his 15-year-old weight even after teenage. Since then, people always assumed the worst – like I have AIDS, or am positive with HIV – just because I physically look sick. This comment comes from my sexual life, my past life where I was discriminated against by body preferences. I was reminded by the judgment when I had to take an optional HIV test when I was enlisting for the local TB treatment program because the diseases are apparently correlated. Sure why not? I haven’t had sex since lockdown, and I remember my last test result. It would be the same this time so there was nothing to fear. And there wasn’t. There were no free condoms or lube this time. I knew I would have a new life as I accepted the first box of medicine. It was also December. There were calls again for freezing the semester or mass promotion. I was finishing my requirements as I began my struggle with Tuberculosis.
Should I enroll for the second semester was the first question for the new year. I was holding a position in my college organization and had major plans. I told my committee and fellow officers. I thought they deserve to know. Until this blog, only the closest knew, and now you know too. But that was my past life already, a part that built who I am today and will be in the future, if there’s any.
I enrolled. I needed a distraction from the discomfort of having to prepare my own food because no one is going to cook for me. I hated my mother as I hated myself. My work and role in the organization practically kept me alive but I thought of continuing my study just because I didn’t want to contend with my family for not doing so.
In retrospect and with regret, I’ve taken an unexpected 18 units for the second pandemic semester. The jump from 12 to 18 definitely imposed greater responsibility and hence sacrifices as what a regular junior would have faced.
CRes 101 Introduction to Communication Research
A writing class that demonstrated the challenges of the online setup when we were grouped for the accomplishment of the requirements. The instructor is compassionate and pragmatic who really fosters a democratic learning environment. Given the pros and cons, we get to decide and enjoy relative flexibility. Yet any choice is without a struggle. For one, we had to let go of one of our groupmates due to their performance; they had poor connectivity and couldn’t commit to participating. It became our responsibility as we were faced with the dilemma of peer evaluation. Our groupmate couldn’t help because of their material conditions. We could only imagine the battles we never spoke about.
FILM 158 Directing
Normally, there is great anticipation among film students taking this class: the opportunity to produce your “formal” short film to be screened on the silver screen of Cine Adarna, a preparation for your thesis hence this class is considered a ‘mini-thesis’ from which the prestige and anxiety come. Yet I did not share such anticipation because for me it was just like any other class I have to take as an undergraduate. Taking it under pandemic totally erased any expectation I had because I knew the professors are adjusting their courses depending on the health protocols and policies since it is a production class. I honestly thought of delaying so that I could share the sentiments and take on the challenge of producing it traditionally (that is face to face production with a whole set of crew) but I felt my life was on a provision of my disease which might also explain why I took so many units for the sake of experience.
The class refreshed and added more basic knowledge on film language all film students should master. As a midterm requirement, I was able to produce a short film in the confines of my home. The class was comprehensive yet felt lacking because of the adjusted academic calendar and probably compromised syllabus that most if not all courses have to suffer.
FILM 159 Producing
Just like in my other film classes, I always feel honored being a student of acclaimed personalities in the industry. For one, who would teach producing best if not someone with a stellar credential and commendable practice in shaping our national cinema? Epicmedia’s CEO aims to build more producers than directors in the country (as most aspire for the latter over other available film disciplines like producing). This class certainly changed my perspective on filmmaking and the opportunities therein.
I got to learn the standard mechanisms of film production from preproduction to distribution with more practical knowledge and less theoretical skills. Yet everything is yet to be ‘real’ with real money for film inherently needs capital – both tangible and intangible capital.
FILM 172 Film Theory and Criticism II
A speaking and writing class. It provokes. It breaks and forms ideas. This is the second and higher film theory class with more difficult topics which mean more difficult conversations we have to engage to. Yet I felt it was easier than the first one as I get more comfortable with new and old ideas I have to learn, relearn, and unlearn. My love for cinema was challenged and reaffirmed with the issues concerning the moving pictures and the reality where they exist, where we exist.
Articulation matters and this class trains students to speak their minds, question ideas, and form perspectives when confronted by dilemmas and cinematic concerns. The professor is younger than the others and it really makes a difference if I may boldly claim. Such has implications for the kind of graduates the institute produces. The course opens opportunity outside film production (from which the curriculum is shaped) and foster film scholarship and media literacy. Nevertheless, the class is theoretically helpful to aspiring filmmakers when one day they are finally to make their films not only with proficiency but with responsibility.
Read my outputs for this course at Film Readings 2 – SineSalita (wordpress.com)
PI 100 The Life and Works of Jose Rizal
As required by law, we studied literature about the infamous novelist. This is the first class that I encountered with ‘uncommon’ requirements, an audio recording. Instead of writing our thoughts and submitting papers, we are asked to record our sentiments on weekly topics which happened to be personally compelling as it’s new for me. I appreciate the exploration of other media for academic purposes.
I’m trying to remember what we did in this class because I just realized I couldn’t remember anything about Rizal that is specific to his life. This is because, as I reviewed my documents for this course to have something to write here, the professor had focused on the milieu of colonialism rather than Rizal’s personal life. Now I am just reminded how fucked we are as a nation culturally, economically, and spiritually.
The only lesson I would claim to have gotten from this course is to aim for the decolonization of our consciousness, only then we will be totally free and able to materialize our social imagination.
PI 100 The Life and Works of Jose Rizal
As required by law, we studied literature about the infamous novelist. This is the first class that I encountered with ‘uncommon’ requirements, an audio recording. Instead of writing our thoughts and submitting papers, we are asked to record our sentiments on weekly topics which happened to be personally compelling as it’s new for me. I appreciate the exploration of other media for academic purposes.
I’m trying to remember what we did in this class because I just realized I couldn’t remember anything about Rizal that is specific to his life. This is because, as I reviewed my documents for this course to have something to write here, the professor had focused on the milieu of colonialism rather than Rizal’s personal life. Now I am just reminded how fucked we are as a nation culturally, economically, and spiritually.
The only lesson I would claim to have gotten from this course is to aim for the decolonization of our consciousness, only then we will be totally free and able to materialize our social imagination.
Read my final paper here: Pelikula at Bansa: Mga Potensyal at Hadlang Para sa Kaunlaran – SineSalita (wordpress.com)
SPAN 10 Elementary Course
Last but not least, as it is the most challenging among the units I’ve taken, I decided to take Spanish as my language elective. I’ve struggled given my speech condition, let alone the unorthodox approach of the language professor who goes beyond the practical purpose and makes it more theoretical, if not critical (which I would be thankful for as I’ve used his great lessons now that I’m taking Span 11).
20211230
--
Para balikan ang mga entries ko sa UP series, bisitahin ang listahan:
7. Third Year in UP (3rd Year)
6. Ikalawang Taon sa UP (2nd Year)
5. One Year At Film School (1st Year)
4. Back to Square One (1st Semester)
3. One Month at UP (1st Month)
2. Welcome to UP [original title: UP Will Destroy Me, my blog was reported.] (1st Week)
1. UP or NOTHING (UPCAT story)
and instead of my usual annual gallery, watch one output I did for a class featuring my cousins:
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