My Sister and Her Not Exactly Twerking Habit

Dedicated to the one and only Kiwi that I can tolerate in my life...

Despite knowing my sister for fifteen years, I never fully understood why she wiggles her butt before sleeping. She would always lie face flat on the bed and shake her behind left to right and I would always tell her to stop because it's disturbing. She'd always reason out that that simple movement calmed her and would continue. Of course, I'd always concede to her point without further questioning (either because I didn't want to start a fight or because I'm too lazy to do any major reprimanding.) We're already very close and a little butt-wiggling couldn't and wouldn't change that.

My current relationship with my sister, Patricia was totally different from when we were kids. Unlike now that I was actually bother by her little quirks, I used to be never bothered by her existence at all. Then, she was just a figure in the house that I knew so little about.

Back in the day, she just struck me as a really energetic child that could never be tied to one place. She often stayed in the streets or at our neighbor's house to play with anyone or anything she could find.

Particia = energy + outside. End of story.

But as we grew up, I learned to understand the different facets of her energy. We became friends instead of just 'filially'-affiliated people and that allowed me to take a deeper look.

I saw that she spent most of her time making other people laugh. My sister would crack nonsense jokes and showcase weird facial expressions during any time of the day.She can be a book of sassy retorts in herself. For her, being funny isn't just something she does during her spare time. Being funny is being her person.

Also, she dedicates her qui to expressing emotions. Patricia wouldn't let her feelings stay contained. She doesn't realize it but she values exposing her vulnerability because, in a way, that allows her to share her true identity. She usually does that by writing, hugging or going to a corner to bawl her eyes out. For really intense situations, she would go from dancing to reciting a dramatic monologue.

Finally, as our relationship deepened, I saw a side of my sister that most people overlooked. Sure, she's very bubbly but that's all they could deduce from her aura. They don't realize that the warmth they feel around her is anchored in something greater.

My sister is very passionate. And I don't mean passionate as in OMG-I-love-One-Direction kind of passionate (though she is a fan of that band). She's passionate because she sincerely takes an extra mile to help other people.

There were several instances that she had to shoulder my responsibilities (embarrassing as it is to admit) and whenever I would tell her that I'd pay her back, she would decline. She'd tell me that she loves me and that she believes that loving someone isn't a business transaction. You don't have to pay for anything because in the first place, what you do and what they do for you isn't accounted for. I would still try to return the favor though because she taught me how to love selflessly.

It took me a while to decipher my sister's "hyper activeness" and it might take a while for me to understand her weird butt-shaking habit. Still, I won't get tired of trying. For now, I'll leave it as the last facet of her energy: the excess that she has to release before slipping away to a part of her that only she could know.

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I wrote this as an assignment for one of my summer classes. We were tasked to write a feature article. Originally, I was going to go with PJ series but I didn't have any sleep before this and I needed a quick write. My sister was beside me so... yeah.

Fictional news story: "Frost: Man of the Decade"

Jack Frost won the Best Male Animated Character of the Decade award by the Fictional Academy at Yoodel Hotel, Arendelle, Sept 28.

The actor starred in the film "Rise of the Guardians" in 2012.

He also won the Crowd Favorite award under the same movie.

Frost, along with Flynn Rider and Dick Grayson were nominated through an online voting database.

When asked if he had preparations before acting, Frost said that he had none.

"I just go with the flow and enjoy my job," the actor said.

The Fictional Artist Academy is an awar-giving body dedicated to recognizing talents of all types of fictional characters (www.fca.com).

When my Prof asked me to share a significant writing experience...

As a young girl, I didn't speak a lot. I appreciated silence and I understood that there are things that shouldn't be said. I was also immersed in my world where I learned to handle my thoughts rather than to bother anyone else with them. Besides, I preferred listening.

To someone like me, it was hard to open up to those even closest to me about how I really felt. But when things got intense, I needed to get them out though I couldn't say it. I couldn't shout and I didn't want to hurt anyone.

So I wrote.

One day, when I was about eight, I left a letter for my Dad to find. There, I begged him to stop smoking. He wasn't getting any younger and I saw how easily exhausted he was. To little Pollen, the thought of losing a father hurt so much and writing that letter made her feel that it would change everything for him.

I didn't receive a reaction from him the next day but I knew that he read it since the letter disappeared from the table.

That evening, my mom approached me, telling me that dad showed her the letter. She told me how proud she was of me for writing it and how she'll keep the letter in her novena booklet.

Sure, my dad didn't stop then and there but I'd like to think my letter made a difference.
You see, writing literally is my voice. It was, then, the only way I could give anyone a peep of what's inside. And now, though I've learned to break out of my shell, the things I write still represent deeper truths about myself.

WriPrin: Reboot

For six years, I have called myself a student journalist.

My "writing career" started in BAKAS, the elementary publication of De La Salle Lipa.
     I wasn't planning on joining the school paper and I haven't even developed my love for writing then. It was my English teacher that persuaded me to try the qualifying exams. I gave it a shot, not really knowing anything about news, feature and editorial writing and by some miracle, I got in. I was given the titles "news editor" and "feature editor" during my two years of stay and that was how I learned about the journalistic writing style.
     Back then, there was no pressure of publishing a paper on time because our advisers took care of it. They were the one that edited and gave topics too. Plus, a company was responsible for designing our pages. All I had to do was to write and enjoy the raw happiness I get by doing it.

When I got to high school, I experienced some sort of an identity crisis so I took two years off, trying to figure out what I really wanted to happen with my life. It was during my third year that I joined BULIK, DLSL's secondary level publication. 
     My friends wanted to try-out so I thought hey, why not? You did well in your English classes anyway. I got in with them as staff writers.
     This was the period of my life when I learned to be confident about the articles I wrote. Our advisers gave me constructive criticisms that encouraged me to improve. By this time, I also got a clearer background on what students do in a publication - interviewing, gathering news bits, editing and lay-outing.

BULIK staffers of SY 06-07

I continued writing in the school paper during my senior year as the feature editor. 

     I didn't know that being labelled as the "editor" meant being in-charge of a section so I struggled and there was no one I could turn to. I wasn't warm and cozy with my adviser then and my co-writers also didn't  have a clue. But that didn't stop me. I tried to become an active member, helping whenever I can. I even ended up doing tasks that didn't cover my expertise like lay-outing my pages and editing graphic illustrations.

   But I felt like my efforts didn't pay off. I was always exerting so much  into tasks but once someone who could do better comes along, I would be easily pushed aside. In a way, I was "traumatized" because I actually loved to write then and I was starting to fall in love with working for the paper too. But the "family experience" of being a part of the publication was missing. Whenever I revisit my memories of 4th year BULIK days, the word "toxic" pops up in my head. It was only work, work, work.

Despite my obvious hesitation to join the college publication, LAVOXA, a friend encouraged me to do so and I eventually applied. 

     It was difficult to adjust from being the scared and cautious writer I learned to become to a LAVOXA-n. You see, the environment there was different. Being a part of the organization meant interacting with the coolest of the weirdest people that existed in DLSL. It was great but intimidating at the same time. I was conflicted since I was given a chance to belong to another family but I was hesitant to join in because of my past experience. That's why, initially, being in LAVOXA was something I treated professionally only.

     Of course, I adjusted after a while and I opened up to the people there. Not only was I spreading my wings as a campus journalist but also, I was building friendships that would last beyond forever. 

    As far as my two-year stay, my writing style has changed dramatically and I've also understood the whole process of making the paper until the very last minute. It was life-changing since it was only now that I got the full cycle. Come to think of it, I spent four years in school publications not even understanding what was happening when I was there!

Top: Tabloid and Broadsheet editorial board SY13-14

Bottom: Tabloid and Broadsheet editorial board SY14-15

Now, why did I divide into my life as a journalist so far? Simple. Because I wanted to show you what being a "campus journalist" meant to me and how I defined being a writer then.

     I'll be honest. Back in high school and elementary, I wasn't concerned with what I could do for my readers. I was focused on what I could do for myself. I wrote to see my name on the paper so I could show it to my mom. I wrote to be a part of the editorial board that would look good next to my list of awards. I wrote to experience a lot of things like going to press conferences. I wrote just to finish the paper. I wrote to improve my writing skills and for the sole pleasure of being able to write. I didn't have a clue on how much power I had, power which could have done some good if I wrote the right things. I didn't fully understand my responsibilities and the importance of my job. 

     I wasn't much of a journalist at all.

     In college, I improved a bit, understanding that I had a purpose and envisioning the change that I could make. But I was still fooled by a common journalist error. Sure, I did my part as the editor and I selected topics that would be helpful to the students but I became a slave of the deadline. My intentions were good especially during the content selection of topics but there would come a time that I would be so bent on finishing on time that I just used any article available without considering their value. The quality definitely suffered... and I've never finished on time so my decisions were often useless. I was also a "slave" in the opposite way. Believing that the deadline is still far away, I would relax and eventually, put my whole section to sleep. That means, I let important stories pass by that could've informed a lot of people.

Its embarrassing  to say this, but I only realized the real essence of journalism a few days back.

     My professor in Writing for Print Media took us to AVR 2 to watch a film. I was expecting a boring documentary film on the life of a journalist but instead, I got "Kobe Shimbun No Nanonakakan."

     It was a Japanese film based on the experiences of Kobe Shimbun photojournalist, Mitsuyama and the publication he belonged in during an earthquake attack on January 17, 1995.

Movie poster from meiatrandom.blogspot.com

     It started with a quick tour of the publication office and introduction of characters plus Mitsuyama repeatedly saying that they didn't know that something would change their regular routines. After that, the big tragedy occurred and everybody was stricken. The rest of the film focused on the citizen's struggle to survive, the journalist's struggle between being sympathetic or doing their jobs and Kobe Shimbun's struggle to publish a paper despite the damages they've incurred.

Photo from: crunchyroll.com

     

If I would rate the movie according to scholarly standards, I wouldn't give it five stars though it is a good movie.

     The concept was a bit cliche; natural disasters were a thing of the past. I also found the acting a little exaggerated, though they were effective in stimulating emotions. On the positive side, the way it was shot, edited and colored were good and appropriate for the theme.

But as I watched the film, I didn't want to review it critically. I wanted to experience it.

     A few minutes into the film, I felt indifferent. I was just getting to know the characters and their Japanese names just blurred in my head. After a while, Mitsuyama's foreshadowing effect was growing old and (kind of) irritating. 

     But it changed when the earthquake occurred. I felt connected to the film. It wasn't only because I had a familiar experience but also because it brought my inner issues out especially those related to me being a "journalist".

Screen captures from: bloggang.com

Let me tell you this, I didn't expect to cry. But I did. 

     It started with the scenes where the EIC called another publication for help and Shito-kun burst in despite his injury. Those were powerful scenes for me because they portrayed the perfect publication spirit. They had a contagious drive that slowly consumed me as I watched. I saw how committed and passionate they were to their jobs and I wanted to feel that way. 

     They didn't have to work. They could've easily run away. But they came together as Kobe Shimbun because they had a duty to inform people of what happened.

    I felt that way only once and it was during my first meeting as the campus news editor. Then, I wanted my section to represent all the sectors of the student body. I wanted the paper to be useful to their college lives. But the feeling didn't last because in the first place, I didn't understand why I should have that drive and why it was important. Unintentionally, I placed my passion for journalism second to just finishing the paper.

     I want to feel like that again. I want to be so in love with my work that I'll be lost in it.

     I got more and more emotional especially during the "beating-the-deadline" scenes. I felt so guilty watching them running for their paper and begging for just a few minutes to make it while I thought of how I slacked off as a section editor. I wasted so many days that could've been allotted for editing articles and designing my pages. It was ironic, really. I had deadlines to beat and I always worry about them but I won't start working until the last minute. What kind of writer am I?

     Exactly! What kind of writer was I? I just realized how much I've taken for granted and how many mistakes I've made. I wasn't worthy to be called a journalist.

     And there I was, dumb-founded and looking for my identity as a journalist. Why was I writing? Who was I writing for? What does it mean to be a journalist?

     I felt just like Mitsuyama when he was unable to press the camera button.

     Mitsuyama and Yamane-san's conversation provided me a partial answer.

*Non-verbatim*
EIC: Mitsuyama, Have you been taking human pictures?
M: I can't. Do you know what's out there.
EIC: *says something encouraging*
M: Why do I have to take pictures?
EIC: To record them.

     To record them. To immortalize feelings and stories. How could I forget that?

     I was so caught up in other associated businesses and myself that I didn't see how simple it was. As a journalist, I should write the history of other people. How a bomb threatened their security once but got over it. How the administration promised to improve the turnstile that constantly bothered their morning routine. How they once stood on stage and received an award they didn't expect. How they partied during the college night and saw their favorite artists.

     Writing as a journalist isn't about winning at press conferences or just having printed copies to distribute. It meant writing stories, good and bad, because those stories built the community and represented it.

     When you are a journalist, you have a responsibility to play in the society and that's why you do it.

(A/N: Sorry this is taking so long. I'm not sure I'm making sense anymore. It's just emotion overflow, really.)

     That's why they did it. They faced a natural disaster and put aside their families and ethical standards for Kobe Shimbun. I get it now. It wasn't really about the earthquake. It was about the fight they put up no matter how confused they all were.

     Ha, thinking about this now, I realized that through the movie, I experienced an earthquake of my own... one that shook my principles. I couldn't get over the feels that easily so I delayed writing this. It was hard to think of the right conclusion days ago when I wasn't sure of myself. 

     But now that I've had some sort of epiphany and that I'm close to ending this, I feel lighter. Plus, I'm sure that I've learned a great deal. I made mistakes in the past but now, I can make up for them. And that's what's important, write? (Pun intended.)

     Six years. I've been labelled as campus journalist for six long years. But as far as I'm concerned, I rebooted the record two days ago.

     And I needed that. :)