Republic of the Philippines

Pasay City National Science High School

Schools Division Office - Pasay City

By Chloe CristobalGraphics by Caitlin Beatrice Mutas and Kristel FloraldeCopyedited by Stacie Marie Catallo and Mekylla Marie Villapaña The first time I took a good look at Purple, it didn’t even register that she was someone I knew. Riding the jeepney on the way home, I noticed that she had the same bag that my classmate had. Only then did it dawn on me who exactly she was. No words were exchanged, not even a simple glance. She left before I did, and for a while, that was all I knew of her as — my classmate who took the same route home. We were in eighth grade at that time, and over the course of the school year, our interactions had doubled. She was always my groupmate in performance tasks, we acted alongside each other in our Araling Panlipunan class, we competed against each other in the Science quiz bee, and I even got to see her star as the lead actress in one of our films. Oh, and of course, how could I forget that moment in our biotechnology class? The class was assigned to solve a mural of some kind involving problems about the subject. Oil pastels were scattered all over, painting the floor with different hues. She and I were kneeling directly in front of the whiteboard, quibbling over the correct answer. Once the heat was settled, we both stood up and saw the horror that marked our knees. Our P.E. pants had the colors of the oil pastels all over them! We stared at each other in shock for a while, left speechless because of the certainty of a nagging mom when we got home. But then I heard her giggle, and only then did I realize how freeing a person’s laughter can be. My first impression of Blue was that she was unapproachable. She often had this look on her face that made you think she had a rain cloud following her around. I’ve grown fond of it, but back then, it just validated my thoughts about her. There was this moment in biotechnology class that I’m sure she already told you about. It was out of pure innocent friendship, but looking back, I can’t help but get flustered. Purple and I were still classmates. Ninth grade was a year of stress-filled subjects and countless projects, but it was also a year full of realizations and acceptance. During PaSci’s junior year, the students were tasked to perform a festival dance with complete props and costumes. Whenever we practiced for this performance, the class was divided into two groups that took turns performing the dance. I was in one group, and she was in the other. Whenever I sat down and rested, my eyes would immediately get drawn to her. Only her. No matter how many times I tried watching the others, she’d pull me back in without breaking a single sweat, mesmerizing me effortlessly. I remember the way she elegantly held her skirt, twirling to the beat. I remember feeling my heart drop out of my chest, fighting to keep its beat alive. She was beautiful. It took a lot for me to accept that I liked her. I didn’t tell anyone, partly because I was scared and partly because I wanted to keep this feeling to myself. Blue was the reason I came to accept my sexuality. I saw her dancing during an intermission for intramurals, and ever since then, I have had this crush on her. I came out to my best friend the next day, but I promised that it was only pure attraction. Having crushes on classmates was too messy… and besides, it wasn’t even me who she liked at that time. Every little interaction of ours made the butterflies in my stomach go berserk. Every time she leaned her head against my shoulder, every time she chose to sit beside me, every time she looked at me for a little too long, every moment I cherished deeply. There was this one particular time when I was preparing props for our project. She was watching me cut the green fabric needed for the design, and I suddenly had the urge to wrap one of the pieces of cloth around her finger. She left to buy something, and by the time she came back, it was still there. She never took it off. I realized that maybe I wasn’t the only one who cherished these moments so much. February 2, 2020. I still remember the exact date. We had our last practice at the CCP Complex. I didn’t know what I was doing at that time, I guess I just wanted her to know. I wanted to initiate something that showed how much I liked her without actually saying it. I was scared out of my wits, but I did it anyway. I intertwined my pinky with hers. It was to my surprise that she never let go, she only tightened her hold. After that practice, we rode the same jeepney on the way home. Yet again, no words were exchanged. But this time, I had an overwhelming urge to say something. The possibility of her liking me back grew only bigger and bigger in my mind as our flirting ensued, and a part of me started to believe I had a chance. I couldn’t take it anymore. I confessed through chat right after I got home. After I sent the message, I threw my phone across the room, dreading her response. Blue’s message notification greeted me immediately by the time I got home. She said that she confessed because she had plans for moving schools for the tenth grade, so imagine her surprise when I told her I liked her back. The day after confessing was the day of our final performance. I remember going to school early because I was so excited to see her. Meanwhile, Blue couldn’t even look me in the eye. Although, in the end, continue reading : Different Hues, Same Sentiments

By: Xyrel James CanonoyCopyedited by: Stacie Marie CatalloGraphics by: Kristel Floralde One of my favorite dishes is Lumpiang Shanghai. Its golden-brown wrapper crackles with each bite when freshly cooked, revealing a medley of ground meat and vegetables. Its crispy exterior offers a delightful counterpoint to the tender filling, creating a dance of textures and flavors. Yet, like all fried delicacies, its brilliance is ephemeral. Left unattended, its once-crisp wrapper succumbs to time, becoming soggy and limp. The vibrant crunch dissolves into a disappointing mushiness, a haunting reminder of its lost potential if only it had been savored at its peak. Much like this culinary delight, a bill that sounds like “soggy” was crafted to be a fresh, impactful measure, ensuring equality and protection for all individuals. The Sexual Orientation, Gender Identity, Expression, and Sex Characteristics (SOGIESC) Equality Bill, formerly known as the Anti-Discrimination Bill, has languished in the Senate for 24 years, a chilling testament to the slow crawl of progress in the chamber. It aims to protect individuals from discrimination based on their sexual orientation: who a person is attracted to; gender identity: how a person sees themselves; expression: how a person presents themselves to the world; and sex characteristics: the physical traits a person is born into. Yet, despite its noble intent and the urgent need for its passage, the bill remains a prisoner of legislative inertia, a casualty of endless debates and deliberate delays. As the legislation remains stuck, it mirrors the fate of those rolls left too long: once full of promise, now suffering from neglect. How long must we wait for equality to be served on a ready platter? Contrary to the belief that the bill grants the LGBTQIA+ community special privileges, everyone has their own SOGIESC. It is a fundamental aspect of who we are as individuals. It’s as unique and personal as our favorite color or food. To get straight to the point, the measure does not seek special privileges for the queer community but rather positions itself as a legal aid that ensures equal rights, opportunities, and protection against discrimination and violence based on one’s individuality. Concerns have also been raised that the bill could be misused to file baseless discrimination claims, potentially burdening the legal system. However, human rights lawyer Atty. Chel Diokno noted, “The fear of misuse should not prevent us from passing a law that protects fundamental human rights. Proper mechanisms can be put in place to address any potential misuse.” Consider the heartbreaking reality faced by graduating senior high school students Nicole, Kendi, Jade, and Rey, as shared by Ms. Mela Habijan on Facebook. They were denied attendance at their graduation ceremony in June 2022 simply because they weren’t allowed to wear dresses and were required to cut their hair. These students, who identify as transgender, were forced to conform to rigid gender norms, stripping them of their right to express their gender identity on what should have been a celebratory day. This isn’t just an isolated incident but part of a broader pattern of discrimination that countless individuals face daily. Imagine the emotional turmoil and the message it sends to those who are already vulnerable. A 2019 survey by the Rainbow Rights Project and Metro Manila Pride revealed alarming statistics: 62% of LGBTQ+ youth aged 18–24 reported experiencing discrimination based on their SOGIESC. Shockingly, more than half of these incidents, at 51%, occurred within the public school system. This widespread discrimination not only erodes the educational experience of LGBTQ+ youth but also perpetuates harmful stereotypes and prejudices. Additionally, the Philippine Corporate SOGIE Diversity and Inclusiveness (CSDI) Index of 2018 revealed that no single Philippine-based company has implemented policies to safeguard their employees from discrimination based on their sexual orientation, gender identity, or expression. This stark reality shows that without explicit workplace protections, employees are left vulnerable to unfair treatment, harassment, and exclusion. Such environments can lead to decreased job satisfaction, lower productivity, and higher turnover rates. Moreover, this gap in protection can deter talented individuals from joining these companies, ultimately affecting the diversity and innovation within the workplace. Furthermore, discrimination in public spaces and services is another widespread issue. In 2018, a same-sex couple was denied entry to a popular restaurant in Manila because the management did not “allow” LGBTQ+ couples. These instances of discrimination in schools, workplaces, and public spaces highlight the urgent need for legislative protection. Each story is a poignant reminder of the personal and societal costs of inaction. They say that justice delayed is justice denied. This frustrating impediment of a simple bill that could protect our identity is as much a denial of our existence. As a child who always felt disappointed when favorite rolls became waterlogged, the idea that they could be fried again to restore their crispness was comforting. Now, as a teenager, there is a yearning for a similar assurance. Just as culinary care can transform something seemingly lost, it is never too late to salvage and strengthen the bill’s bright promises and potential. We’ve always been taught how important laws are. They form the foundation of a fair and just society, safeguarding the rights of every citizen. Our nation is built on these regulations. But when a crucial bill meant to protect identities collects dust in delay, it impairs this foundation and threatens the very principles of justice and equality we strive to uphold. The road to equality might be a distant reality, but we can’t afford to wait any longer. The SOGIESC Equality Bill, like the crisp of Lumpia it resembles, needs to be served before it loses its flavor, before the promise of equality remains a wish for some.   

Copyedited by Stacie Marie Catallo Pubmat by Lucie Gabrielle Echon I stretched my hands towards the horizon knowing no matter what I did, I would never be able to touch it. I was a man with a simple devotion – to propagate extraordinary messages through a common language. Journalism. Writing. Communication. Stepping inside my school, it was within my expectations that I would learn the laws of motion and the parts of the cell. Never to improve my passion full of imperfections, for I am no prodigy, and I knew better than to expect aid from a system catered to itself and itself alone. My first encounter with Sir Mark Reniel Balolo was when he walked into a messy classroom of ours with a face held high and a confidence brooding enflamed whilst confronting the entire class whose classroom was filled to the brim with silent tension. I was immediately hooked (and terrified) but none of it indicated that he was going to be someone whom I would be looking forward to – until time proved me wrong. His presence was one thing. His passion was another. I was told that in cross-cultural communication, it’s not about sending the right message, but rather, eliciting the right response and by God, he was exemplary at that. He has knowledge discernibly established as he utters it with absolute assertion. He possesses a cadence of soaring merit – a standout among the best. He walks the talk and never leaves a single intrusive question hanging. He never stays in one place as he captures your attention and holds it, engaging you in words written on a whiteboard as if they’re the greatest novel in existence. All these are contributions as to why his words either inspire or trigger. Moreover, his eye for skill and potential is impeccable and so are his chosen ways to handle them. He’s meticulous in his ways – refusing to settle for less. He’s mindful of your case; are you moving forward or lagging? I was ecstatic once I found out such a persona had the same interests as me. It felt like it was time for the seeds of my skills long buried beneath the soil of unproductive environments and sky-scraping expectations to finally begin sprouting. Yet, it wasn’t that straightforward. Despite fully knowing that my passion is a rough wall full of blemishes, I was sky-high thinking I was somehow already the best whilst being simultaneously insecure about my lack of experience. It’s conflicting and complicated but having someone just listen to you and know both your aptitudes and weaknesses is a reassuring sentiment for now I know that I finally have a certainty to believe in – a certainty that I’m on the right path. But it doesn’t stop there; not at one student. While I was told that you don’t realize the impact of something if it hasn’t impacted you, I think looking around to see his effect on my fellow students is what made me more astonished. As someone whose vision had always been to influence for the greater good, I’m glad that even those who share different interests are now appreciative of writing and communication because of such a great educator. Seeing my classmates, most of whom are fellow friends, go out of their comfort zones and see them feel the waters in the fields I consider home fills me with indescribable fondness. All these made me realize how incredibly wrong I was to assume that thriving in this harsh environment is impossible, but with that being said, you can’t just stretch your arms alone and expect them to reach the stars. You’re going to need help. A wonderful teacher taught me, albeit indirectly, that my flaws are not a hindrance between my hands and the distant horizon but rather keys to understanding who I am and what I value in what I do. That I have what it takes not because of some special talent but because I’m willing to do whatever it takes. By such a bare sentiment and deed, he has ignited what I thought was meant to stay fixed. Ladies and gentlemen, The Quantum’s adviser, Pasay City National Science’s very own English department teacher, Mr. Mark Reniel Balolo!