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After College, It’s Called Alcoholism
Isn’t it annoying when parents go mad about the things that COULD HAVE but NEVER really happened to you?
Like, that one inglorious Friday night, when I went out with my new workmates for the first time and I got real drunk, wasted, and shit that I didn’t even know how I managed to go home at around 4AM, Saturday, without my mobile phone, any money, and ATM card. I mean, I got home safely no matter how wasted I was, but my dad still frets over the bad things that COULD HAVE BUT NEVER REALLY happened to me, until now. Please take note that it’s already Tuesday.
There are four talking points in the first sentence of the previous paragraph. Let me lay it out for you.
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First day. New role.
Tonight, I say goodbye to the FUNemployed lifestyle I have enjoyed in the past month. I’m also putting on hold my wonderful relationship with books, movies and TV series. With Pottermore, brewing potions all day. With Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr, checking out what my friends have been up to, hitting the F5 button every now and then. I say goodbye to sleeping as late as 4AM and waking up as late as 2PM.
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Samsung PR Chronicles
I’ve been meaning to but I haven’t really gotten around to finding the time and the words to actually write this until now. A long period of writer’s block, I guess, has occurred.
I’ve recently ended my 13-month relationship with Samsung as a PR Assistant. The reason? Well, I guess I don’t have to broadcast it to over 16,000 followers. It’s very personal. But you can be assured that I wasn’t fired. Of course they wouldn’t fire the most reliable PR Assistant Samsung has ever had. Or so I’ve been told.
It’s also not a case of another Andrea Sachs story. Although I could relate to her very much in many levels. From dealing with topnotch people in the industry, to running errands for an event. From talking to editors of the biggest broadsheets and magazines in the country, to working with top-of-the-line photographers and well-renowned celebrities. My stay in Samsung has been genuinely exciting, glamorous, not to mention prestigious. Sure, my boss wears Prada, and she’s like the Miranda Priestly of the local tech industry in some ways but she’s in no way a devil.
If I were to describe my employment in Samsung in three words, I’d use the cliche “a roller-coaster ride” except that the one I took was all glammed up with Android phones and tablets, 3D internet TVs and elegant laptops. Very premium, actually.
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Ma’am Simbulan: Grace Under Fire
by: Gene Paulo Bautista (UP Diliman, BA Journalism, Batch 2010)
Back in 2007, I had my first encounter with a terror professor.
After checking the students’ write-ups, the first assignment of the class which was given shortly after the third session, the terror professor said, “There are some who are not made for Journalism but took the course thinking they’ll be able to survive it. And there are some who can write really well but are not enrolled in journalism. I don’t know what’s wrong, but there is.”
Then she started giving out our papers. And when she called my name, she told me “Are you sure you want to be here?” I took my paper from her, said a quick yes, and then I walked away.
The class was called Introduction to Journalism. It wouldn’t be called such for nothing. The subject should, first and foremost, introduce Journalism to the students. You don’t judge when you’re only in the introduction part. Considering that she’s not among the best professors, she had no right to judge.
My professor in that subject was not anything like Ma’am Simbulan. Ma’am Simbulan had a way of criticizing my writing without sounding mean, without actually hurting my feelings. Her criticisms were always objective, gentle but constructive, and light but in-depth. She was gentle.
Ma’am Simbulan was my professor in J111 (Feature Writing) and J121 (The Newsroom). She knew her craft very well. The knowledge acquired by her students proved to be essential in learning journalism. I survived BA Journalism partly because of her among other professors.
I’m proud to have been under the mentorship of a great professor who had journalistic integrity and professionalism, which were but some of the most important journalism lessons I learned from her — the late Lourdes “Chit” Estella-Simbulan.
She liked my Technical Feature story. She asked the class to write about a technical topic and make it understandable by ordinary people. I wrote a four-page article about the situation of a close friend who was then diagnosed of a rare blood disease called Henoch–Schönlein Purpura.
She asked me to read it to the class. My classmates shushed, and then I started reading the article I wrote about a close friend and her deadly disease. The topic was so sensitive that my voice quivered while I was reading it. Sympathy and worry were among the faces of my classmates. Then, I abruptly stopped.
She asked, “What’s wrong?”
With teary eyes, I answered nothing.
Would you want to stop reading? Are you okay?
I’m fine. But I can’t continue.
Much to the disappointment of my classmates, I didn’t continue reading. Ma’am Simbulan told me It’s okay. I hope your friend gets fine soon. And I’m sure she will be. She was sensitive.
And then she went on discussing how I was able to translate the medical terms and processes into sentences understandable by people who do not have a degree in medicine. She cited areas which could’ve been better, then she told of the success of my technical feature article.
Last Friday, on my way to meet my college friends for a weekend getaway, I heard the news that she died. A passenger bus crashed onto the taxi she was riding. It’s such a rough, tragic demise for a soft-spoken and gentle person. While it can be considered that she died a meaningless death, Ma’am Simbulan has surely lived a purposeful life and left a big legacy not only in the field of journalism but also in the lives of her students.
Ma’am Simbulan is irreplaceable. She was my favorite.
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