Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Memory From The Past: Reposting Of My Last Article From My Aemilian Column UNSHACKLED
July 2010: Me and my friend Erika were
in the DJ’s booth waiting to go on air. As we did this we chatted in between
tips on entertaining our listeners’ messages and modulating voice. To help me
calm my nerves (I was a newbie on the booth), our topic shifted to my writing
job, our days as school paper staffer, and that one article she read back in
college that she liked very much…
She described how “personal” the
article’s approach was that she remembered the message it implied. During that
time she was attending a seminar in our school, and each of them were given a copy
of our school paper. She asked me of course and I asked her back about the year
when she got it; but all she mentioned was how the article was started – with The
Little Mermaid’s song: PART OF THAT WORLD.
At the mention of the song the realization
came. Of course I became doubtful at first; it’s been years since I graduated
in college. But as the conversation went on, and as she told me more about the
content, I became surer as to who wrote it—me…
 |
| Disney's The Little Mermaid |
Erika forgot who wrote the article but
she didn’t forget its message. For me that was one of the best compliments I
got…
Here’s the article I published in The
Aemilian, the official student publication of Aemilianum College Inc.; my final
post for my column Unshackled
(published March 2006)
Unshackled VoicePART OF THAT WORLDBy: Jenny Gonzales Jimenez“…Up where they walk,Up where they run,Up, where they stay all day in the sun,Wander and free,Wish I could be,Part of that world…”Little Mermaid Ariel knew what she wanted—what’s deep inside her, in other words, she knew herself…. I’ve always loved her story: a girl who’s amazed of what the world above the waters, beyond the shores, has—the life she could never have under the sea. Vibrant living lass whose wish is to be part of that world where she could express herself more freely….A pen. A paper. A hand. A mind. A belief…. The weapons of an artistic mind in pursuit of a desired goal—To express freedom, freedom from all mediocrity and sarcasm.The 6th Regional Tertiary Schools Press Conference was held last November 23 to 25 (year 2005) in Bethlehem Retreat House, Bacacay, Albay. It was a gathering of expressionists—young journalists opt to the challenge of showcasing their trade in delivering truth. I had my share of Press Cons before, during my third year in high school. It was held in Gubat at that time. Although I only stayed there for two days including the awarding, not to mention even if I didn’t win anything, still it was worth it—the memories of that event lasted. From the day I came there to find one of my co-member with a sore eyes, the birthday celebration of another co-member which we celebrated by placing a birthday candle on a cupcake, and of course, my favorite, when they raced for the fishball vendor which we’ve all been waiting for to pass by.Those were the days when, I have to admit, I loved writing more than now; when ideas ran through my head with such fluidity, constantly running through my veins onto my hand, into the paper as I write away. It’s been a long time…. I’ve missed this feeling. I felt like I’ve just returned from a vacation in the Bermuda Triangle which I entered being sucked out of the world I live in entering a tropic with Aliens wearing bathing suits and holding surf boards (some lousy feeling huh)—I was in my own bubble, a void.Writing has been that big part of my life no one, definitely, no one can take away from me. It was my way of expressing my individuality—what’s inside my most inner core—deep, unmoved, unbounded. It was me. And I missed me.I know I haven’t stopped writing, but then again, that was just writing for the sake of it, not writing because you want to be heard. I have been so paranoid by what other people was to say about me that I forgot how to be me. I have friends that are open-minded, that no matter how different we were we still connected but how about the rest. I was too much bothered in the sense that I don’t want them to think of anything bad about me -- I forgot that I shouldn’t care less, as long as those whom I hold close dear understood me. They were my life, my strength, yet how could I care about those with narrow beliefs?The press con awakened me. Being able to experience it again has somehow opened my mind to the truth that true people are those who are not afraid to express their individuality. I am me, you are you, and they were they. I felt free….That was one experience I know no one can take away from me, that even though I never made it for Luzonwide, just to be there was worth it. I enjoyed every part of it—though the whole competition was a sure-fire-hit-nerve-wrecking fact.From the moment I came that morning at the van station till I was dropped off at my uncle’s place was well recorded. I missed it, and I will miss it even more once I step out to that world of great providence, the world usually faced by graduates. I will never get to experience it again. That long wait for your turn to compete, the heart-attacks I imagined I was going to have then and there, the continuous annoyance I gave my co-members due to my nervousness ( I hoped I never annoyed them much), and of course the bell which signals food is being served “come and get it!”(hehehe). But God knows, what I really will miss most is the people, especially my co-aemilians: those times we would hang out in our rooms and talk, talk, and talk; share ideas and experiences; learn about each other more than what we already know. I will never forget even a single second spent with them. Even the friends we met (like Jho and of course that guy next door…ehem!!!). Those were priceless times: when I slowly found myself—one step at a time. How I wish I could do it once again….Cheers to friendship, to memories and to life...
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