This speech was delivered at the Baguio Convention Center on the occasion of the 2025 Commencement Exercises of University of the Philippines Baguio, on July 22, 2025.
Distinguished university officials, chancellors, deans, representatives of our different campuses, esteemed professors, dear guests, colleagues, family, friends, and of course, the 526 graduates that we celebrate today, a very pleasant afternoon to all of you.On this momentous occasion, I also want to honor our ancestors and pay respect to the Indigenous heritage both across our archipelago and here in Baguio, to the Ibaloi and Kankanaey, to all the peoples of the Cordilleras, to the generosity of their land, and amid histories of injustice, their enduring legacies of agency and resistance.
Finally, I also want to acknowledge that we live in a more-than-human world and recognize the
plants, the animals, all the species with whom we share the space around us, as well as the
bodies of nature, which our ancestors rightfully saw as living beings. And of course, the Creator, the author of life. Being closer to the heavens, surrounded by the Cordilleras, the mountains of my youth gives me strength; may they remain forever green, and may our rivers, our lakes, our seas, and our oceans remain forever blue.
In my life’s journey, I have seen many rainbows, many wonderful things, but perhaps the most
magical thing that I have witnessed is the possibility of change, change for the good and
change for the better. That within each living thing lies the potential for growth.
And that in our broken world, there is the possibility not just of build, build, build, but of repair, of renewal, and of regeneration.
And so the first message I would like to share is this:
Give others a chance.
Who among you has been let down by somebody? Maybe in a group report—someone didn’t make the slides, didn’t make it on time, didn’t make it at all.
Or maybe you became disillusioned by someone you looked up to. Hurt by someone you cared
for. Disappointed, even disgusted, by the political posts of someone you know.
Today it is easy to block, unfollow, cancel someone in response to what we think of as their
failings. But human are complex, imperfect beings. Someone you think is lazy in class might
actually be a working student busy at work. Someone who seems unfriendly might just be shy. Once, I had a classmate who never joined us for lunch—only to realize, years later, that he
simply couldn’t afford to.
When we see the life stories behind the IG stories, we might be inclined to understand instead of judge, to support instead of punish. It actually costs less to support someone through
school than to keep them in jail, but our society is good in rewarding success, but not in
supporting people so they can succeed. Can we recognize that maybe our education can allow
us to understand others better, and to support them more?
I know that this is not always easy or advisable, and there are times when you have to stay
away from toxicity or negativity. But in this age of cancel culture, be someone who gives others
a chance.
Secondly, give yourself a chance as well.
How many of you have fallen asleep in a lecture with 30 people people? 10 people? 5 people?
Well, once, I fell asleep in a small group discussion during our pediatrics rotation, and there were only three of us. “Do you feel refreshed?” The professor asked when I finally woke up.
We’ve made many mistakes, and I’m sure if you look back in your years in UP, you wish you
could have done things differently. Perhaps you wish you studied more. Or perhaps you wish
you studied less, and that you tried out new things.
Giving yourself a chance means recognizing your privilege and your potential, your capacity to
learn from your mistakes, improve yourself, and never give up on your dreams despite pressures,
artificial milestones, and the weight of expectations.
Speaking of expectations, there’s the understandable desire to meet our parents' expectations and so to the parents here, I want to ask of you, in behalf of our graduates, please give them the space to follow their path, they’ve made your dreams their own, please make their dreams yours as well.
Since I was a kid my dream was to climb mountains. Memorably, I climbed Mt. Pulag when I was 17, back when it took three days to climb Ambangeg Trail, and I cannot forget that it was
dog named Chica who guided me to the summit.
After Pulag my next big target was Mt. Apo, and I felt that I needed to climb it before I turn 20.
Even when my companions backed out, I decided to go, accompanied only by two Bagobo
brothers who served as my guides.
When I finally started hiking, I was so happy, because I was finally about to realize my dream.
But it started raining, and very soon I was soaking wet. We were taking the Kidapawan trail,
and we had to cross the river many times, by just walking on coconut trunks! It was nerve-wracking and although managed to not to fall, I
was exhausted.
Finally, we arrived at the campsite, and I managed to pitch my tent and fell asleep out of
fatigue.
But when I woke up in the middle of the night, my Boy Scout tent was wet, and I was shivering
in the cold. And to make things worse, I could hear the sound of even-heavier rain, and I could
even see flashes of lightning. I felt angry and miserable. There I was, alone, inside a tent, so far from my dream.
But I needed to pee.
At first, I tried to sleep again, ignoring the call of nature. But I couldn’t do it, and eventually, I
gave up and unzipped the tent, bracing myself for the cold and the rain.
To my surprise, there was no rain. What I thought was the storm was just the sound of the river
that we had crossed. And what I thought was lightning, turned out shooting stars. Above me,
there was the Milky Way, the brightest, most vivid night sky I’ve seen in my life, and the next
day, I reached the summit.
Sometimes, we give up on our dreams too soon—because we misread the signs. We mistake
fear for failure. Discomfort for defeat. Detours for dead ends.
But if we give ourselves a chance, if we step outside of tents, our comfort zones, then perhaps we’ll see the stars and surely we’ll be on our way to reaching our dreams.
Thirdly, give our country a chance.
I know that it is not easy to feel hopeful about the country, especially when you see the corruption, the impunity and the injustice. The roads that take forever to build. The traffic, the lack of green spaces and quality public transport, the slow Internet.
In the name of development, we quarry mountains to build new cities. In the name of progress, we cut pine trees to build more malls.
Alas, we are still far from being a country where Kian de los Santos can freely study, and where
Chad Booc can freely teach.
But the Philippines is not a small country, and our country is larger than all of the above. We are not a poor country, either. Saying that the Philippines is a poor country runs against our
heritage of wealth and richness, which is why we were colonized and exploited in the first
place. Saying that the Philippines is a poor country naturalizes the fact of our people’s poverty, obscuring the violence of its provenance. It is like saying that someone “is dead” when the more accurate way to put it is that “he was murdered.” Saying that the Philippines is a poor country sets low expectations for our government, serving as an excuse for incompetence, negligence, and corruption.
Actually, other countries have the same challenges and frustrations too. When you hear people say “only in the Philippines”,chances are, it’s actually not true, and in fact, I’ve heard the same expression in other countries, like Solo en Colombia and Unik Tiada Tara in Indonesia. Realizing that many of the problems we face are actually shared by others, can pull us from the despair of imagining ourselves as innately flawed and fundamentally hopeless.
What gives me hope is our long and living legacy of resistance. Macli-ing Dulag and Ama
Lumbaya who defended the Chico River. Pascual Pocding, who fought against the construction of a dam in Itogon. The people of Sibuyan Island, who blocked mining trucks with their bodies and successfully blocked a mining project. When I asked the forest guards in Mt. Kitanglad how many trees they’ve planted, one of them said “around five” — and when I incredulously repeated my question, he said, “Yes, five. Hectares.”
What gives me hope is the kindness I’ve encountered across the archipelago, the hospitality, of the people of Babuyan welcoming us with lobster. Hikers in Sulu sharing their best coffee. Friends, classmates in med school, opening their homes, opening my heart to what country is all about. Once, I lost my cellphone in a jeepney in Maguindanao. I had given up on ever seeing it again, until I got a call from a family who found it and wanted to return it. When I offered a reward, they refused. “We’re just being good Muslims,” they told me.
What gives me hope is you and all the talent, all the energy that you can bring to this country.
When I say give the country a chance, I do not mean passively watching it change, but actively
participating in making the change possible.
We need the arts, literature, and the humanities to open our hearts and minds to the beauty,
diversity and richness of our country, and at the same time remind us of our shared humanity.
We need communications to bridge our differences and empower communities.
We need the sciences - biology, ecology, physics - and mathematics to help us understand the
universe more, to take leadership for the challenges we face today. And in this age of AI, we need computer science not just to harness future technologies but to make sure it will not only benefit a select few.
And yes, we need social sciences - history, economics, sociology, anthropology, development studies, Indigenous studies - to help us understand each other, to ground us in a past is deeper than colonialism, and to guide us in a present that is full of challenges are not just
technical but political and social. There’s actually enough food to feed the world, but problem
is distribution.There’s enough information, each of us have more information in our smartphones than Rizal ever dreamed up. But there’s also disinformation, and the challenge is learning and critical thinking, which is why we need to work together, from different fields,
different perspectives. With all our efforts, our country has a fighting chance.
But what you do not know, you cannot appreciate, what you cannot appreciate, you cannot love, and what cannot love, you cannot fight for. Perhaps what gives me the confidence to say these things is that I’ve known this country, I’ve immersed, I’ve put my heart in it, and I encourage you to do the same. For me, it began with traveling - hiking, going places. One of my sidelines, when I was a student, was as a mystery shopper for Cebu Pacific. I had free
flights, but I had to pretend to have a headache each time, to test the flight attendants, so it
also required some work.
But it was a lot of fun, and even today, having been around the world, having lived in different
places, I can say that I love the Philippines, and I am happy to invest my time and my energy in
this land. I do not know how many countries you can visit without a visa, but I know of 82
provinces. And each can inspire you to give this country, our country, a chance.
Fourthly, give the planet a chance.
Today, we face overlapping crisis. Even as we speak, a genocide is being live-streamed from
Gaza, and many look away, as hospitals are bombed and children are gunned down. Before
the pandemic, I had the opportunity to visit the Rohingya camps in Bangladesh and alas, it is
just one of many examples of how much cruelty and suffering humans can inflict on one
another.
And then there is the climate crisis. We face the specter of hotter, more inhospitable world, with
worsening storms, not to mention the ever-present threat of eruptions and earthquakes, like
the one that shook the very place we’re gathered in, twenty five years ago.
Even as we have finally overcome COVID-19, the threat of future pandemics looms, alongside
emergent hazards to our health, from ultra-processed foods to microplastics and anti-microbial resistance.
At the heart of all this is inequality: inequality in who gets to benefit from progress, and who
bears the brunt of its consequences. On the same planet, billionaires can afford to go to space while billions cannot afford a meal, go to a hospital, or send their children to school.
And yet, humanity has also achieved so much. And though our challenges are daunting, we
can build on those achievements.
In the 1980s, scientists discovered that the ozone layer was thinning because of
chlorofluorocarbons and other ozone-depleting substances. Thanks to activism, research, and
international cooperation, those substances were banned and today the ozone layer is healing.
Also in the 1980s, HIV/AIDS was a death sentence, shrouded in fear and stigma, and I want to acknowledge Dolzura Cortez, the first Filipino to come out as HIV positive. Today, thanks again to scientific research but advocacy, including from people living with HIV, it is a
manageable condition, and people with HIV can live as long as people without, as long as they
have access to treatment. Smallpox, once a dreaded disease that scarred people for life, is
gone. More and more people today are surviving cancer, and there are bright prospects for
better treatments, diagnostics, and cure in the coming years.
Even in the most repressive regimes, there has been resistance, and all repressive regimes
have fallen, resistance has endured. Dictators have been toppled, despots have put behind bars. And thanks to culture bearers and
activists, there is renewed pride in Indigenous heritage, a renewed appreciation for Indigenous
wisdom. I am heartened by the emergence of a multipolar world, of Asian, Latin American, and
African countries breaking free from colonial divisions and forging new forms of solidarity.
We can take part in these efforts, not only as participants, but as leaders. With our collective
experience, we have so much to share with the world. But we can only do so if we give the
planet a chance.
So give others a chance, give yourself a chance, give the country a chance, give the planet a
chance, and finally, give life itself a chance.
Alam ko marami sa inyo, pagod na, at sa loob ng magagarang mga kasuotan, marami są atin ay
may pinagdaraanan. Maybe you have been burnt out by all these years, and even though this is
an occasion for celebration, maybe some of you may not be looking forward to what lies
ahead.
It’s not gonna be easy; it’s not gonna be easier. I think I speak for all your faculty, your parents,
that for me to reach this point from where you are meant facing the challenges that come with
life, from rejection and disappointment to sickness and pain, including perhaps the most
painful of all, the loss of your loved ones. It’s been years since I lost my both my grandmothers and I miss them so much.
But speaking of our loved ones, the people you will miss in life are the same people you want
to live for, so you don’t miss out on them. There are people worth living for.
People like your parents, and those who stood as your parents. your siblings, relatives,
kasambahays, those who worked hard for this moment. We often think of our parents as the
pillars by our side—but don’t you want to be by their side, too, as they grow older?
People like your teachers and professors, the people who the subjects that you took come
alive. Orgmates and teammates, mentors and mentees, the people who you’re fighting for, the
people you’re fighting with.
There are people worth living for.
And there will be moments that make it worthwhile, from something as big as graduating from UP to the small things in life, like a gust of wind that refreshes you on an uphill climb. A sip of coffee that awakens you to a new day. Being with your beloved pets, the Hachikos of your life.
Receiving a message of appreciation or encouragement, from a student, a teacher, a stranger, a friend.
There are people and there moments that make it worthwhile.
So live for your past self who dreamed of this very moment!
Live for that high school kid wondering which course to take. The college student working on their thesis, not sure if they’ll finish on time.
Live for the people you have yet to meet. The people you have yet to love.
Live for the music yet to be composed. The art yet to be imagined. The books you have to
read, the books yet to be written.
Live for the next episode, the next series, the next chapter, the next level, the next stage.
Live for the problems yet to be solved; the discoveries yet to be made.
Live for the races yet to be run, the mountains yet to be climbed!
Once, I was hiking up Mt. Sicapoo in Ilocos Norte, the highest mountain in the Northern
Cordilleras. To climb it, you have to cross Gasgas River several times.
We were already on the way down when a sudden flash flood swept me along the river, and for a hundred meters I was being carried by the current, trying to the dodge the rocks that would
have knocked me out and drowned me.
My life was saved by our Itneg guide, Tatay Emilio, who had the quick thinking to run to the
narrowest portion downriver. With all of my strength, I swam towards his outstretched hand,
and I can still remember the tight grip with which he held my hand, and the tight grip that I also
gave, to hold on and avoid being swept away.
I want you to hold on to life as tightly as I held on to that hand that saved me.
And this, at last, is the lesson I have been privileged to share with you:
Our vocation is life itself. Through our work, through education, research, community
engagement, activism, we can defend life, we can enable life to flourish; we can empower
people not just to survive but to thrive, to realize their full potential, and that we too, can find
meaning, purpose, and fulfillment in our own lives.
And for as long as we hold on to dear life, as long we give life a chance, the possibilities remain
alive, not just for ourselves, but for our country, and for the planet we share.
And so, dear graduates and friends, I say to you “Mabuhay”, not just as a greeting but as a call
to action.
Live! Mabuhay! Live!
Baguio City
July 22, 2025
