On Monday, my sister Dyan finally reached the end of her journey as an undergrad from the College of Engineering. After five years of grueling toil, exams, laboratory experiments, plant visits, papers, researches, not to mention quite a hectic social life at her org, she finally earned her degree in BS Metallurgical Engineering.
We couldn't be any prouder. :) As I have said, two down. Two to go. Haha. :3
But while we were all witnessing the ceremony conferring the degrees to the graduates of the University's biggest college, I received one of the most saddening news:
With great sadness, we inform everyone that Prof. Dennis M. Sabangan, a senior lecturer at the Department of Journalism,...
Posted by UP CMC Student Council on Monday, June 29, 2015
While on the ride home, I couldn't stop myself from sobbing as I remembered Sir Dennis and my probably most memorable class in UP ever, under the most amazing, one of the most talented and kindest teacher I ever had the opportunity to learn from. He was not only a mentor, he was an inspiration.
I've always said that 2011 was one of the best years in my life recently. It was a time when I had so many things to do, when I was so filled with zeal to accomplish things. I was in my third to fourth year in CMC, and was fully engaged in the course I was taking. I was learning so much--from the readings, from the classes, from the field trips, from the brilliant professors. I was making friends inside and outside the college. I made friends in my part-time job. There were (a lot of!) times when I get home in the wee hours of the night. I learned to drink! Haha. I was sleep-deprived, I was HELLA awkward, but I was so busy, so driven, so hopeful.
But probably, one of the best highlights of that year was my taking J123, Photojournalism. Every Saturday, I looked forward to attending the class, because I know that despite the okray my photos were going to get, I'm going to listen to Sir Dennis's tips and adventures. Those three hours were filled with amazing tales and laughter. Sir Dennis always wore his infectious smile, he was always ready to crack a joke.
In a college where the most vivacious students thrive, I've always felt like an outcast. But Sir saw through that. Or maybe it was in his teaching style to make even the shyest student voice out comments and questions. During our field trip, he was unabashed in acting as if he's one of us. And he was! But I did feel his guidance, even his fatherly protectiveness, whenever the situation called for it. It was such a privilege to learn from him.
He survived kidnapping, war zones, typhoons, earthquakes, mobs, rallies, demolitions. His portfolio is downright topnotch. I remember during Yolanda, I kept seeing his name in the credits of the photos of the typhoon's devastation. I kept thinking, "Sir, be safe please." Sabi nya lagi sa klase may agimat sya, kaya hindi pa sya namamatay. I can't believe that someone larger than life as he was would succumb to death so soon, so suddenly. Sabi nga sa isang post, it's ironic how someone with such a big heart died of a heart disease.
Looking back, I remember how enthralled I was by his guts, by his talent, by his humility. He kept telling everyone to just enjoy and have fun. And now, as my feed is filled by posts remembering him, I feel humbled to have known him even for just a short while, even as I regret not reaching out after our class ended. Because I let my shyness get the better of me--the thought that he might like to spend time with the other "in" students. Instead, I should've realized that he's not like that, and never was. He never discriminated. He found time for everyone. He checked up on people even as he was experiencing hardships of his own as well.
It's been the three days since he died, and I still can't stop my tears from falling as I type this. At the back of my mind, I keep thinking, he's just out there, in some far-off province, going on his adventures, meeting up with his friends, clicking away on his cameras. I still couldn't fully accept that he's gone, ever after seeing his remains yesterday.
But maybe up there in heaven, he's laughing at all the crying people are doing because of him. I'm sure he wants everyone whose life he's touched don the bright afro wigs and over-sized shades, pull off a pout, and party on through life like he did.
All this is making me remember how he motivated me during that wonderful semester. I should strive to be better at my craft, and give back as much as I can. I realized that the time he spent teaching at CMC was not something he had to do, but he did it anyway. It was his way of giving back. And give back to the University he did. He touched the lives of each and every student he encountered, planted the seeds of excellence in all of them, all of us.
As one of his friend posted, it's highly unlikely that he's going to rest in peace up there in heaven. He's probably causing a ruckus right now and making the angels laugh with him.
Wherever you are, Sir, thank you so much. Your legacy will live on.
I've always said that 2011 was one of the best years in my life recently. It was a time when I had so many things to do, when I was so filled with zeal to accomplish things. I was in my third to fourth year in CMC, and was fully engaged in the course I was taking. I was learning so much--from the readings, from the classes, from the field trips, from the brilliant professors. I was making friends inside and outside the college. I made friends in my part-time job. There were (a lot of!) times when I get home in the wee hours of the night. I learned to drink! Haha. I was sleep-deprived, I was HELLA awkward, but I was so busy, so driven, so hopeful.
But probably, one of the best highlights of that year was my taking J123, Photojournalism. Every Saturday, I looked forward to attending the class, because I know that despite the okray my photos were going to get, I'm going to listen to Sir Dennis's tips and adventures. Those three hours were filled with amazing tales and laughter. Sir Dennis always wore his infectious smile, he was always ready to crack a joke.
In a college where the most vivacious students thrive, I've always felt like an outcast. But Sir saw through that. Or maybe it was in his teaching style to make even the shyest student voice out comments and questions. During our field trip, he was unabashed in acting as if he's one of us. And he was! But I did feel his guidance, even his fatherly protectiveness, whenever the situation called for it. It was such a privilege to learn from him.
He survived kidnapping, war zones, typhoons, earthquakes, mobs, rallies, demolitions. His portfolio is downright topnotch. I remember during Yolanda, I kept seeing his name in the credits of the photos of the typhoon's devastation. I kept thinking, "Sir, be safe please." Sabi nya lagi sa klase may agimat sya, kaya hindi pa sya namamatay. I can't believe that someone larger than life as he was would succumb to death so soon, so suddenly. Sabi nga sa isang post, it's ironic how someone with such a big heart died of a heart disease.
Looking back, I remember how enthralled I was by his guts, by his talent, by his humility. He kept telling everyone to just enjoy and have fun. And now, as my feed is filled by posts remembering him, I feel humbled to have known him even for just a short while, even as I regret not reaching out after our class ended. Because I let my shyness get the better of me--the thought that he might like to spend time with the other "in" students. Instead, I should've realized that he's not like that, and never was. He never discriminated. He found time for everyone. He checked up on people even as he was experiencing hardships of his own as well.
It's been the three days since he died, and I still can't stop my tears from falling as I type this. At the back of my mind, I keep thinking, he's just out there, in some far-off province, going on his adventures, meeting up with his friends, clicking away on his cameras. I still couldn't fully accept that he's gone, ever after seeing his remains yesterday.
But maybe up there in heaven, he's laughing at all the crying people are doing because of him. I'm sure he wants everyone whose life he's touched don the bright afro wigs and over-sized shades, pull off a pout, and party on through life like he did.
All this is making me remember how he motivated me during that wonderful semester. I should strive to be better at my craft, and give back as much as I can. I realized that the time he spent teaching at CMC was not something he had to do, but he did it anyway. It was his way of giving back. And give back to the University he did. He touched the lives of each and every student he encountered, planted the seeds of excellence in all of them, all of us.
As one of his friend posted, it's highly unlikely that he's going to rest in peace up there in heaven. He's probably causing a ruckus right now and making the angels laugh with him.
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| Photo by Melo |
Wherever you are, Sir, thank you so much. Your legacy will live on.
---
Two weeks ago, CASAA was razed by a fire. Even if I hadn't stayed in CAL for the rest of my college days, it was still in CASAA that I had some of my first lunches (alone) in UP. Next to the Sunken Garden, it was the place where the loner freshie me can stay for hours as I wait out some of my three-hour long breaks, or get my readings photocopied, or make a rush to the restroom before my 7AM class at AS, or just take a bite of sustenance in the middle of the combined electrifying energy and hubbub of the students.
Just this morning, I got the news that the UP Alumni Center, including the bowling alley burned down as well. I had my only uno in PE in duckpin bowling there! Oh, UP, what's going on? Please don't change so drastically, please don't lose your character. Please don't change from being the haven that you are, the one place I would always like to come home to.
---
Two weeks ago, CASAA was razed by a fire. Even if I hadn't stayed in CAL for the rest of my college days, it was still in CASAA that I had some of my first lunches (alone) in UP. Next to the Sunken Garden, it was the place where the loner freshie me can stay for hours as I wait out some of my three-hour long breaks, or get my readings photocopied, or make a rush to the restroom before my 7AM class at AS, or just take a bite of sustenance in the middle of the combined electrifying energy and hubbub of the students.
Just this morning, I got the news that the UP Alumni Center, including the bowling alley burned down as well. I had my only uno in PE in duckpin bowling there! Oh, UP, what's going on? Please don't change so drastically, please don't lose your character. Please don't change from being the haven that you are, the one place I would always like to come home to.
---
Ah, UP. How you make my heart swell. But oh, how you break it, too!
