Andres Bonifacio was not just a man but a movement—a force that ignited the flames of revolution and embodied an unyielding love for the nation. Today, The Quantum calls on every Filipino to remember: patriotism is not just a memory but a duty. As we honor Bonifacio’s legacy, may his courage and conviction inspire us to uphold the ideals of freedom and justice. Let the spirit of the Supremo live on.
Finding My Place: A Quarter of Growth and Reflection
By: Jamelle RonquilloPublication: Rianne Dane Lopez Late nights, deadlines, and the weight of expectations can feel overwhelming—but sometimes, a small reminder, ’Kaya mo ‘to,’ is all it takes to keep going. With our family and friends by our side and the courage to lean on others, we find the strength to push through together. Read The Quantum’s Feature, “Finding My Place: A Quarter of Growth and Reflection.”
An Open Letter
This National Children’s Month, The Quantum’s Editor-in-Chief, Xyrel James Canonoy, pens an open letter to Kalakbay: The PaScian Teen Center, expressing gratitude for the organization’s dedication to fostering a safe, empowering space for Pasay Science students. In his message, he reflects on the vital role Kalakbay plays in uplifting and guiding young minds, creating a sense of belonging, and advocating for the well-being and growth of our youth. Read the letter below.
Woman, why cry? Why laugh?
By: Isabella Rhian TabuadaPublication: Nyasia Carim Ghosts aren’t real. There’s science behind it— it’s just not possible. It’s all fiction, a figment of your imagination— born through the human fear of the unknown, the dark, and the dead. But we were born curious. Too curious. However, curiosity has been one of mankind’s greatest strengths, hence why science has improved and evolved throughout the years. But, it has also been one of mankind’s greatest weaknesses. What a fickle thing curiosity is. A double-sided sword; a coin toss you dare to make, hoping that it would satisfy the craving to know. So it was human to do so. It was afternoon, classes had ended for all grade levels. My friends and I decided to venture back to the empty main building. We thought nothing of it, the sun was still up, and it’s common knowledge the dead only come out at night, right? Surely nothing could go wrong. “You think they’re real?” No, of course not, I thought to myself, a small chuckle escaping my lips as we ventured into the empty hallway of the second floor. It was boring at first. The school was still as we walked through each classroom, and the only sounds that accompanied us were the soft exhale and the silent pitter patter of the soles of our shoes hitting the cold tiled floor. “Hey, let’s make this more fun.” “How?” We thought it would spice things up a bit– cause a little adrenaline rush in our veins; we dared each other that whoever got the short-end stick had to look at one of the classrooms. The three of us had our turns, peering through the window of the closed door, seeking answers and hoping to cure our gnawing curiosity. “Nothing’s here.” In the end, the second floor was vacant. The stories of children running up and about, or that kid who mindlessly haunted the halls, were nothing but mere talk. “Should we even continue?” Perhaps it was the human desire to move forward, to reveal what was hidden behind these closed walls whenever life was void of it. “Yeah, let’s just-.” Hah…aha…hah…aha… “You hear that?” We stopped, we had just taken the first step of the stairs up to the third floor. Hahah…ahaha…hahaha… “Don’t you think we should stop?” There was this ugly sound of a lady– crying, or was she laughing? It was indistinguishable, but the sound sent shivers down our spines. You couldn’t identify if she found something amusing, or if she was in pain. We took another step, and it had grown louder. Was she getting closer? Where was she? No one was right behind us, no one had followed us when we had our little rendezvous we call a lousy type of ghost hunting. Was it a teacher? An actor? No, the voice doesn’t seem like it, it sounded earthly and even scratchy. It was like her throat had gone through something that had made it sound like…that. The noises continued to escape her throat, they never once stopped; it had grown to be a grate in our ears, the high-pitched noise bringing forth both fear and unnerve. Yet even though, we strained our ears, hoping we would hear something between them. Nothing, just pure laughter, or sobs– or whatever it was. We stared at each other, and we took a step back down, and before we knew it, we had erupted on a full-on sprint, hurtling down the stairs and back to the grounds. The three of us looked for other companions, hoping that what we had collectively heard wasn’t just some delusion we had all concurred. Weirdly enough, we passed through the third floor without hearing her anymore, even going as far as to walk through the cement floor of the gym without having her leave a trace of her existence. Who was she? Even then, why was she laughing? What had set her off? Why was she crying? What had caused her agony? The questions remained unanswered as we parted ways, now heading back home. The discovery of something that we thought wasn’t real had set off something in my stomach, the fear deep in my gut as suddenly everything around me was about her. I can only hope that her voice won’t haunt me while I sleep. Not now, not ever.
The Eerie Glare
By: Danella De VeraPublication by Jamelle Ronquilo We were told of the entities roaming around the campus numerous times. As someone with no experience with paranormal phenomena, I believed it would stay as pure rumors and unproven tales. Not until I had to encounter them myself. Busily practicing for a performance, I didn’t catch a glimpse of the time. My group mates and I finished at around 7 in the evening. Heading out to throw the trash, I stopped in my tracks as I felt a cold breeze surge through the corridor lit with a dim light. All the classrooms were locked, and only my echoing footsteps were heard. Feeling uneasy, I hurried back to grab my belongings and exit the school. Despite feeling disturbed, I remained curious. By the time I arrived by the gate, I couldn’t help but take one last look at the corridor. I gulped in terror as I saw an apparition of a child looking down on us from the window.It was a little boy. I couldn’t see his face clearly, but I could feel him staring down at us. It was exactly how my friends and teachers would describe it— a dark shadow-like silhouette of a frail yet appalling little boy. I immediately took my eyes off of it. Wearily shivering in fear, I opted to go home. The apparition was blurry, but after 2 years, I still remember the memory vaguely.
Lingering Echoes
By: Michelle Carranza, Chloe CristobalPublication: Sofia Divinagracia Have you ever heard of the word “doppelganger”? When I first heard about the term and its definition, I almost chuckled at its absurdity. I mean, was it really all that possible to have a paranormal being pretend to be you and fool the ones who can distinguish your silhouette a mile away? I didn’t think so either. Not until… Well, let’s just say a lot of things have happened since I first stepped foot inside this school. In my early years of teaching, I had already heard tall tales of clones and doubles roaming around the campus. But that was what they all were to me — campfire stories. Stories you would exaggeratedly tell when the shadows seemed to linger and the night just won’t keep quiet. However, inch-by-inch, the stories I once thought of to be false transformed into a chilling actuality. The first instance I encountered…whatever it is, was right after cheerdance practice. As the moon shone its light through the big windows of the gymnasium, two 4th year students informed me that they were going to change their clothes. Naturally, I agreed and they headed off to the fourth floor girls’ bathroom. It was a serene end to a very exhausting day, so it was my surprise when the two girls came running back into the classroom sweat dripping off their foreheads with terrified expressions painted onto their faces. “Ma’am! We headed into the bathroom because we saw our friend changing. We followed right behind her, but… but we checked all the bathroom stalls and she’s nowhere to be found!”, one of the girls said. Admittedly, my initial instinct was to laugh and tell the girls that the exhaustion from their practice has rubbed off on them. I didn’t believe what they said, but as the moon lessened its light as I was walking home, I couldn’t help but ponder upon their experience. I didn’t consider the possibility that exhaustion was not the cause. After all, I wasn’t naive. I could tell when kids make up stories to scare themselves or others. But boy, was I wrong. Weeks had already passed by since I last thought of that experience. It hid itself in the corners of my mind; replaced with a great amount of lesson plans and outputs to check. But then, all of the sudden, it came rushing to the forefront of my thoughts once again. PaSci back then didn’t have any air conditioning units yet, so doors were often open. I would catch glimpses of students walking past the door while I was teaching lessons, but when I came to check who it was, no trace of life was left for evidence. At that point, the hushed tales of the doppelgangers got to me. I didn’t think about it constantly, but I was now wary of its possible presence. The last straw that really pushed me to believe this notion was when I was hosting a viewing in the e-learning center. I excused myself from the students as I headed to the comfort room. As I was walking back to the center, I noticed a male figure through the small window of the door. I recognized the person as one of my superiors. He was guiding the students in one of the cubicles, as if he was explaining something to them. I glanced back for a second to check if there were any other visitors to come. I immediately entered the classroom and asked the students if my superior had entered the room to teach them while I was gone. It was to my utter horror when they said that no teacher ever passed the room, let alone went inside.I felt a chill run straight through my spine as the words left that student’s mouth. I will never forget the terror I felt as I left that room. Even after these experiences, I guess there really isn’t a certainty that any of these truly happened. Maybe I was just feeling particularly tired those days, maybe the stress got to me and caused me to hallucinate. But one thing is for sure, there is something out there. Its intentions, I cannot discern. All I know is the echoes of people I knew loomed in the hallways, even if their actual presences were never proven to be there in the first place, and that thought is something that I cannot shake.
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown”: Who are you as the eldest daughter?
By: Resmiel Irish MatreCopyedited by Stacie CatalloPublication: Ysabel Tagon and Yelena Fabricante Whenever we meet new people, one question that they would ask as a way to get to know you is “In what birth order do you fall in?” I am the eldest daughter. So whenever I say that to people I’ve just met, they would often say “Ah, so you’re stubborn.”, “Ah so you don’t take others’ opinions?”, “Ahh perfectionist ‘to.”. People often profile you depending on your birth order. Alfred Adler actually introduced the Birth Order Theory. It states that your birth order dictates a part of your personality. I was 8 years old when I became an older sister. I was supposed to still be playing with dolls, games, princess tea parties. However, while fantasizing about being a princess wearing a plastic tiara in my castle in the hills, I received a crown. “Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” a quote rephrased from Shakespeare’s Henry IV. The crown we hold is not one of royalties but of service, duty, and sacrifice. Being the eldest daughter meant you had to prioritize everybody else before yourself. You’re the second parent. You’re expected to teach your younger sibling everything you know. Once your sibling cannot handle something, you’re expected to do it for them. Once they get in trouble, you also get in trouble as if their mistakes are a reflection of our guidance. You have to solve problems that should be handled by an adult. You already know how government processes work. Overwhelming, isn’t it? It’s a heavy load to carry and the expectations are endless. As the eldest, mediocre is not good enough, you have to set the standard. You also have to step into the role of being a mediator. Sibling arguments, parental conflicts, you’re expected to be calmer than everybody else in the room. And complaining is NOT an option. The pressure to be perfect, to care for everyone around you, to meet standards set by the people around you. It can have an emotional toll on yourself. You know to yourself that there’s no use of expressing yourself, because there’s always someone who seems to need you more. As the eldest, you must wear a mask of capability. Moments of exhaustion and being utterly overwhelmed are locked away because you’re too busy holding everything together that you don’t have the time to let yourself fall apart. But though the crown is heavy, it is also forged in fire. Despite the trials and hardships, I have developed strength and character. The unique pressures can make you fall apart however it can also build an incredible amount of resilience and strength. As time goes by, you learn how to navigate situations, be independent and handle multiple roles at once. Yet, even with these strengths, it is important to remember that no crown should ever weigh so heavily that it consumes you. It’s not about giving up your responsibilities but rather creating balance, setting boundaries and making sure that your needs are tended to. For years, I thought that wearing the crown meant that I had to be perfect, that my worth had to be tied to how well I would tend to others’ needs. But as time passed, I realized that it didn’t have to be that way. Everyday I learn how to wear my crown without letting it wear me down. But now I understand that I deserve to reign my life as well. I am more than just an eldest daughter. So, to all of us who bear the weight of the crown, remember that while we lead others, we must also lead ourselves to a life that would fulfill us, too. Editor’s Note: This piece is part of a performance task for the Oral Communication class of Mr. Mark Reniel Balolo, where students were tasked with creating their own TED Talk.
Stet? Transpose? Ever wondered what these symbols tell you?
By: Stacie Marie Catallo and Mekylla Marie VillapañaPublication: Ana Marie Celso and Yelena Kazmier Fabricante Unlock the secret language of editors with The Quantum’s Copy Reading Primer! From cryptic symbols to meaningful marks, discover how we shape every article with precision and style. Level up your editing skills today!
Chiradee Ong-Javiniar: A Steady Demeanor in Leadership
By: Rexielle Joy V. Villareal, TIII After sixteen years of dedicated service, Mrs. Chiradee Ong-Javiniar, fondly known as Ma’am Chi, has successfully passed the National Qualifying Examination for School Heads (NQESH), cementing her legacy of leadership and unwavering commitment to the students and teachers she serves. Throughout the years, she has shaped the lives of countless students, guiding them on their educational journey at Pasay City National Science High School. Beyond the classroom, Ma’am Chi’s low-key yet impactful leadership has shone through as she mentored teachers, sharing her wealth of experience and expertise. Her colleagues have witnessed her composed and resilient approach during her seven years as the Mathematics Coordinator and six years as the Faculty President. Her leadership has not only empowered teachers to realize their full potential but also provided numerous opportunities for their professional growth. On behalf of the Pasay City National Science High School community, we extend our heartfelt congratulations to Mrs. Chiradee Ong-Javiniar! We are incredibly proud of your success!
