Author Archives: REIL BENEDICT S. OBINQUE

2 months ago

A graduation miles away from home

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A graduation miles away from home

That one needs to conduct their graduation ceremony miles and miles away from their own home is in itself symptomatic of how spaces have become unsafe for those who originally owned them. That one needs to shed sweat and blood to experience schooling while others enjoy the same experience with a miniscule amount of effort is a sign that a larger enemy has to be defeated. That a group needs to suffer the consequences of a war that they did not create is a call for help, a call for action, a call for resistance. And we should start listening.

1 year ago

Math lessons that have nothing to do with numbers

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Math lessons that have nothing to do with numbers

The best way to make students hate math is to show its usefulness in accurate computation, then imply that this is its only purpose. Students have always assumed that the only skills you need in this discipline are memorization of rules and proper execution of them. This makes math so mechanical, so routine, and, as an effect, so uninteresting. There must be something about math that is more than computation – something more human.

1 year ago

To Kill a Principle

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To Kill a Principle

When they killed Ate Beng, it was not only her body that they were trying to destroy; they were after her ideals. By thinking that a bullet could pierce through an established principle, a member of the CAFGU shot Benjaline Hernadez near the head when her hands were clearly raised.

1 year ago

Is ignorance the new sexy?

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Is ignorance the new sexy?

To express one’s dissent is of course not the ultimate solution to everything, but it is incorrect to dismiss it as useless. It is only when we talk that we generate better ideas; it is only when we generate better ideas that we create better policies; it is only when better policies are created that we, our actions are better directed.

2 years ago

Un-forgetting the brutality of Martial Law

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Un-forgetting the brutality of Martial Law

My grandparents’ house has an underground hole. It has been there since before I was born. For this reason, I was never bothered about its existence; I thought it was originally part of the house – like a basement where Lolo could store his farm equipment. Besides, the oldest houses in their neighborhood also have small underground holes, so it was never unusual for us.