Akó An Ateneo, or How Fr. Raul Bonoan’s Thought of School Became Every Atenean’s School of Thought

Akó An Ateneo, or How Fr. Raul Bonoan’s Thought of School Became Every Atenean’s School of Thought

Vision, aspiration, action: if this string of words were mentioned, no other story would read clearer to me than the one that began when I was a young student in the 1990s at Ateneo de Naga, headed by its then president, Raul Bonoan, S.J.

Father Bonoan was sent to Ateneo de Naga in 1989 at the verge of financial—or moral—precariousness, though not formal bankruptcy. During the 1980s, the school had faced serious financial struggles, declining enrollment, and operational challenges that made its future uncertain—so much so that, according to some accounts, he was initially sent to assess, and possibly close, the institution. Depending on whom I’d ask: Mr. Gregorio Abonal or Mrs. Ma. Liwayway “Y” de los Trino, both legendary high school teachers and administrators; or Dr. Paz Verdades “Doods” Santos, my distinguished college professor; or probably you, Atenista.

When Ateneo de Naga celebrated its Golden Jubilee in 1990, it was almost like the Olympics. The much-awaited homecoming was festive but also full of fellowship and community outreach. Of all the activities, it’s the torch parade that still lingers in my memory. Led by our moderator, Mrs. Bernadette Dayan, our LG 21 class, wearing Alive and Kicking shirts, paraded through the streets of Naga City alongside alumni from previous batches. Fireworks filled the sky.

That year was also significant for our principal, Mr. Abonal, whose own Silver Jubilee coincided with the celebration. It was also the year of my brother Mentz’s high school graduation. I am sure those who witnessed it would remember it as one of the most memorable days of their lives.

As a sophomore under Fr. Rene Repole’s LG 21 class, I did more than read about Ateneo de Naga’s CorPlan 2000—I eventually benefited from it as an academic scholar for six years. I remember seeing scholarships and financial endowments by high school batches, individuals, and organizations engraved on golden plates on the wall of the Four Pillars lobby, where the statue of Francis Xavier in robes, hoisting the Cross and preaching, stood for many years.

Equally challenged by stagnation and low morale, Father Bonoan revitalized the faculty by training them and sending them to pursue continuing education, primarily at Ateneo de Manila University, where he had served as college dean and administrator. I remember when Mr. Abonal was sent to study abroad and when Mr. Vernon de los Trino went to AdMU. I also recall how many of our teachers spent weekends at Bicol University for graduate school. Faculty development was in full swing, and so were the movements of Jesuit scholastics and newly minted teachers returning to the school to reinstate their careers.

For our teachers, like English Department’s Mrs. Evelyn Florece and Filipino’s Mrs. Carmen Ilao, it was probably a great time to teach. For me, it was a great time to be a student, benefiting from a faculty that was becoming a powerhouse

In all four years of high school and another four in college, I benefited from the Salamat Po Kai Foundation, a partnership Ateneo de Naga cultivated for many years. My brother Mentz, an economics and political science double major, received educational support from the Ateneo Endowment Fund. Even after our mother passed in 1996, the last semester of our sister Rosario, who finished her baccalaureate in psychology, was supported by the Alay Malasakit program under Ateneo’s Office of Admission and Aid. Admission and aid: yes, this visual alliteration did more than please my eyes.

Regularly meeting with its director, Mrs. Antonette Rodriguez, I helped organize the college group of scholars, which we aptly called Gabay. Among others, I enjoyed being a Salamat Po scholar with my high school classmates Menandro Abanes of Milaor, Christopher Abelinde of Tinambac, and Edgar Tabagan of Libmanan. Pol Abanes became an international scholar; Chris is now a highly respected professor at the same school; while Gary is now one of Camarines Sur’s alternative learning systems experts.
Alumni Connections and Leadership

More than anything, Father Bonoan sought the alumni to give back to their alma mater. From his stationery to the school’s announcements and promotional materials, his administration bannered the words “Serve Bikol and Country,” buttressing a miniaturized illustration of the Four Pillars. At times, we would travel to Manila or abroad to speak with alumni associations. The Atenista connection was undeniable. My scholarship, among others, was one of the fruits of his tireless and extensive networking. Nothing could have been more iconic. His lobbying for alumni sponsorships and donations went beyond persuasion or inspiration—it probably bordered on salvation.

The alumni association was very active, brimming with initiatives and fundraising for the school. It was moving to see, even years later, how alumni activities influenced our daily lives as students. Older Ateneans literally owned Ateneo in those days, with monthly fellowship, spiritual renewal, and fundraising events throughout the year, including raffles, Flores de Mayo, and Santacruzan. These activities fostered a strong sense of community among us.
Campus Transformation

As early as 1993, Ateneo de Naga’s physical infrastructure began transforming. The Fr. John J. Phelan, S.J. Hall, built even before Father Jack passed, signaled the evolution of the campus. Any former student returning would feel disoriented; the old campus they remembered had changed.

I experienced this feeling again in the mid-2000s, when the front soccer field already had Xavier Hall and the church. My field of dreams was gone. The grand Four Pillars still stood, but not as grand as when Mentz, Nene, and I ceremoniously marched out the doors with our mother and eldest brother, Manoy Awel, for our graduations in the 1990s. Yet, change is necessary—and Father Bonoan understood that.

Now I don’t find it hard to see the juxtaposition: like Xavier, who went to India to teach, Father Bonoan went out to the global pasture to “shepherd back” Ateneo de Naga’s alumni. I can only imagine how he must have told them that she is the “mother (mater) of their souls (alma).”

He sought to bring back Ateneo de Naga to its rightful owners: students, teachers, and the community. Giving them a sense of ownership, he not only promoted quality education but also personal growth. Bonoan’s “giving back” slogan, translated into the Bikol phrase “Ako an Ateneo,” clearly cascaded into the Atenean sensibility. What Bonoan preached was that only they could nurse their mother back to health. An avid Rizalista himself, he must have imagined the newly arrived Jose Rizal, fresh from medical studies abroad, curing his mother’s failing eyesight.

In a decade, Father Bonoan elevated Ateneo de Naga and transformed it like no one else had. In 1999, just after it became a university and with the new millennium approaching, he passed away. His mission was complete. It was as if a novelist had ended his last chapter because the story had reached its conclusion. Nothing sounds more bittersweet.

Ganito Kami Noon, Paano Kayo Ngayon?’

Ngonyan na agang Domingo, kaipuhan mong makapabulog ki Tiyo Ben, sa kataid nindong barbero—kun sa Lunes habo mong mairikán ka ni Chancoco. 

“Arogon mo po an drowing na ini ho.” 

Yaon sa Student Handbook kan Ateneo. 

“Salamat po, Pay. Uni po bayad ko. Kwatro.” Iyo. Ta ini pa kan taon otsenta y otso. 

Kaidto, mayo nin dulagan an burulugan ta nganing makalaog sa eskwelahan. Kun dai ka mabulugan, ma-jug and post ka sa opisina ni Sir Generoso.  O kun dai man pagabihon kamo sa likod kan Module 2. 

Maabot ka sa classroom nindo tapos na an first period ki Delos Trino. Bugok ka na naman sa quiz na itinaó.

Ngonyan na panahon, pag-start kan saimong Google Zoom—pag-alas otso, an mga second-year sa klase mo, garo nagirios pa sana sa higdaan kan mga iniho. 

Long hair na, nakatururban pa, tibaad dai pa ngani nakakalsonsilyo. Dai daa kaya nakakaluwas, pa’no?

Good morning, class. Let’s call the roll.

When I call your name, say present.  Abella… Present, Sir.  Abella, what’s your connection—WiFi? Mobile data? WiFi po, Sir. Kumusta man an signal mo? Ok man po, Sir. 

Abragan… Abragan? Adoracion… Adoracion…? Balanlayos… Balanlayos…Haraen daw an mga estudyanteng ini? 

Si Adoracion po Sir mayo po daang mobile data. Sabi sa Messenger.

Colarina… Here, Sir. Coralde… Present, Sir. Diaz… Yes, Sir. Yaon si Diaz.

Duza… Duza... Duza? O, ta dai ka Noy nagsisimbag , yaon ka baga. Haen na, Noy, an uniporme mo? 

Sorry, Sir. Mayo po. Yaon po kaya ko sa balyong harong. nakikigamit lang po Wifi. Nawalat ko po Sir. Anong plano mo, Noy? Next time, Sir. Sorry po talaga.

Makusogon an boot nindo ta dai mararabraban ni Sir Rolando Saboco. Online, pa’no!

Dai mo mairikan, ta sa screen mo lang magkakahirilingan.

Makukusog na an buot nindang dai magsunod kan palakaw kan eskwelahan—an rason dai makaluwas sa sentro. Dai nanggad makahiro ta haros gabos limitado.

Ano an magiginibo mo, sarong agit-agitan na maestro? 

Bakong sabi kan dekano nindo, intindihon daang gayo an mga ‘aki’ ta mayo kitang grabeng magiginibo:

Dear teachers, the dean said, “the new normal calls for more responsiveness on our part. We do not really know how much our leniency could help them these days.” 

“Nowadays let’s be more patient to our students. Please be considerate.”

OK, Sir.

Delusions of grandeur

Anxieties of Influence

Being Atenean, Being Human

As a student in Ateneo de Naga some ten years ago, I understood quite well the Atenean spirit. For me, it meant wonderful things. For one, it meant resoluteness and humility. While we were taught to excel in academics and sports, we were also taught to “just keep it cool,” i.e. offer our failures and successes to the Lord for, above all, everything we do is Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam—“first the kingdom of God.”

It stood for personal ingenuity, a strong sense of belonging, and service. From reading the world’s much-appreciated masterworks in literature and useful inventions in sciences to developing camaraderie and teamwork in most class endeavors, our young lives were exposed to the real world, while being taught to live simply and conscientiously.

Nothing was more worthwhile than the time we would spend with the eternally vibrant Fr. Johnny Sanz and the very warm Fr. Bel[ardo] taking part in outreach activities where we would share quality time with the orphan, the sick, the imprisoned and even the mentally ill.

I think nothing more substantiates any young man’s [or woman’s] education than these simple acts of kindness taught to us in our youth. Here we were taught the ability and the generosity to counter acts of cruelty we would meet anywhere in the world; here we were virtually apprenticed to the real world before our time.

If one were so engrossed in school activities, he would be familiar with these things. Some of us just took “Ateneo” and “being Atenean” seriously; while others must have taken it rhetorically, others just did not take it at all. Somehow, the Atenean spirit has become a unique personal term for each and every, single, one, individual (my apologies to Fr. Rolly Bonoan—the last six words in the previous sentence are his favorite expression when addressing the Ateneo de Naga community).

This “Atenista” spirit would extend to our devotion [read: love] to the Lady of Peñafrancia, the patroness of the Bicol region. In various activities throughout the school year, we would dearly pay homage to Ina, our efforts no less than those of the great medieval knights in quest of the Holy Grail—our blood, sweat, and tears, so to speak, like those of Ignatius in his conversion.

During my college days, Father Jack Phelan to me was a towering figure in the Ateneo community [both literally and figuratively]. More than six inches tall, Father Jack stood as high as the school’s fifth pillar so that everyone would look up to him—not just admiring his magnanimity but perhaps looking for hints of serenity, diligence and above all, simplicity. Like other Jesuits who served God selflessly, the soldier in Phelan had courageously directed his energies serving the Ateneo till the end of his life.

Being Atenean also carried the privilege of learning lifelong lessons. The virtue of temperance was best clarified to me one morning when Fr. Frank Dolan celebrated the Holy Mass before the ROTC battalion. According to the Jesuit priest, a young man’s urge to do something with his sexual faculties before his proper time can be redirected to doing other productive chores like turning to writing or playing sports. This is truth to me because from that sleepy morning when I have heard them, they have never left my sensibility. Through time, I have come to realize, one by one by one—like a domino effect—that temperance is sacrifice is honor is self-effacement is love. Despite the tedium and exhaustion that day, my will power to stay my post in the Delta platoon must have taught me [all I need to know about] patience that even my married life now requires.

In one way or another, we Ateneans as we were called, were made to excel in anything we would do. In those days, it was less a spirit of genuine excellence than it was the excellence of a genuine spirit.

For people who believe in the Ignatian spirituality and who follow it with much ardor, this is the spirit of Ignatius; among other learning, this is what makes life worth living.

But now, you see, I may esteem “being an Atenean” for various reasons. It is a pity when I seem to value the Atenean spirit because of the glory [pride] it entails, the favorable opportunities it carries, or the “greener pasture” that comes with it. Unfortunately, the entire spirit may be lost if the spirit—or that being an Atenista becomes a mere household jargon for excellence—which can mean my inability to accept defeat or failure in all endeavors, or my insensitivity to the needs [for success] of others. The worst of all is for me to reduce it to a mere status symbol, my source of clout or influence.

I who desire anything that has to do with being Atenean ought to know deeply what it entails; I must also be geared up to face anything it brings, for it would entirely be self-contradictory having the Atenean spirit simply because I want to share the pride [and just the payoffs] it connotes.

Why do I like to be associated with the words “Atenista” or “Ateneo”? What does being Atenean really mean? Do I really understand what it means? Aside from excellence—which I might just construe for that never-ending desire to be recognized or to be great—what else is there in my being Atenean? I wonder why, if at all, I esteem the word or its connotation. I just know that I put the name as my car sticker, cheer for the Blue Eagles for the sake of toppling the Green Archers—or simply am obsessed by the blue thing for no apparent reason at all.

The words “Ateneo” or “Atenean” which sound like “Ignatian,” connote many wonderful things. I esteem this spirit always with deference, because the Jesuits, the company of men founded by Ignatius of Loyola, aside from having achieved for the world many wonderful things, have also been a formidable group of intellectuals and social workers whose lives have been directed to help make some things better in the world.

Ignatius of Loyola was a Basque soldier whose life turned around after a cannonball injury made him reflect on directing all his efforts to God. As is perfectly summed in a text message forwarded to me by a fellow Atenean, “Ignatius never really thought of forming a group of priests and brothers. He had worldly dreams: be famous and powerful. But in battle, his leg was shattered, along with his dreams. The painful fall led him to look into his life. [But] God had other plans for him.”

This dramatic story of conversion—of self-effacement, of rededication of one’s energy and efforts to God—is the genuine spirit that must inspire me who is continually enamored by Ignatius’s example. Through the existence of the Jesuits, spanning almost five hundred years so far, Ignatius’s example has been immortalized because his is a legacy that reads beyond the words “Ateneo” or “Atenean.” His is a legacy that stemmed from man’s deep understanding and sincere appreciation of God’s generosity and love and that blossomed into his humble, selfless share of God’s wonderful plan.

Wonderful.

Ateneo Serrado

Serrado an Ateneo pag-abot mo. Mayong tawo. An guardia sa tarangkahan dai mo bisto. Mabisita ka sa sarong pading dai nag-uli pag bakasyon. Pero mayo daa siya. Pero pinadagos ka.

Hali sa guardhouse nahiling mo an Four Pillars may bago nang pintura. Nagduwaduwa kang maglaog ta garo dai mo aram kun Ateneo man nanggad an linaogan mo. Pininturahan ni nin kolor na garo man lang bagong shopping mall sa Centro. Nagimatan mo na kayang kupas an pintura kan Four Pillars kaya nataka ka kan nahiling mo.

Saboot mo tapos na man nanggad an mga aldaw kun kansuarin sa façade kan eskwelahan na ini, nagparasad-pasad an magagayon na coed na pencil-cut an mga palda—yaon ka duman sa hagyanan kairiba si Emil, Bong sagkod Gerry, iniiriskoran pa nindo an magagayon na nag-aaragi.

Nagsalingoy ka sa wala. Mayo na an soccer field kun saen kamo nagkaramang sa carabao grass ta may nagpasaway na parehong kadete sa Delta Platoon. An Xavier Hall na dati wooden building pa kaidto na dati man na SIO (Social Integration Office) saro nang konkretong edipisyo. Dai mo na mahiling an Pillars Office kun saen mo pigmakinilya sa bukbukon nang Olympia an enot mong love letter ki Jenny. Huli ta bago, dai mo na ni nabisto.

Nagsalingoy ka sa tuo. Mayo na an mahiwas na grounds kun saen kamo naggiribo nin Belen para ilaban sa Pintakasi. Sa may batibot na ito nabisto mo si Lani, kaklase mo sa Sociology ki Nong Fernandez. Tapos na an Pintakasi kaidto pero dai mo pa nalingawan si mahamison na huyom kan Miss Irigang ini. Totoo man nanggad an cultural myth na pinag-adalan nindo sa subject na ito. Dai pa natapos an semester kadto naprobaran mo na tulos kun ta’no ta an Iriga pamoso sa mga aswang—pirang banggi kang dinuno kan sarong kagayunan na Lani an pangaran. Haen na man daw siya ngonyan?

Naglakaw-lakaw ka. Nagsara-salingoy.

Haen na an gym? A, natahuban na palan kan Xavier Hall Building na bago. Dai mo na tulos nahiling an Blue Knight sa letrang A na enot mong nahiling kan nagpila ka para mag-exam sa First Year High School beinte anyos na an nakakaagi. Pagbalik mo pag-ralaogan, ogmahon kang maray kan mabasa mo na an ngaran mo sa lista kan LG 12.

Mayo ka pang kabisto kaidto kaya pagtingag mo sa façade kan building, nahiling mo an Blue Knight na nakasakay sa kabayo. Hiya! Maski sa kabayo saboot mo masakay ka makauli lang tulos sa Bagacay—iiistorya mo ki Mama mo an marahay-rahay na bareta ito.

Tinahuban na palan kan Xavier Hall Building na bago. Dai mo na mahiling si Blue Knight na tiningag mo kaidto.

Mayo na an dating Ateneo de Naga. Sarong aldaw pagbisita mo, dai mo na ‘ni naabutan. Marayo na sinda. Mayo ka nang mabisto digdi. Dai ka na madagos sa laog. Tibaad ka kaya maanayo. Malakaw ka na lang pabalik sa Avenue.

“Tapos na ang maliligayang araw,” saboot mo sana. Tibaad an Golden Age kan Ateneo de Naga nakaagi man nanggad na. An Four Pillars Lucky Fortune Hotel an pintura.

Maraot man nanggad daw na magsangli nin itsura an Ateneo—na an Ateneo magbago?

Bako daw an Ateneo bako man sanang sarong edipisyo? Bako daw an sinasabing Ateneo ika mismo—an tawong naglaog sa antigong edipisyong ini? Tibaad ika man nanggad an makaluma— habong magsangli, habong magbago.

Dai man daw na an bagong pangaran mo—Ateneo Serrado?