TO MY FELLOW PARENTS:

On the meaning of an Ateneo education

By Agustin Martin G. Rodriguez

Rodriguez is assistant professor at the Philosophy Department of the Loyola Schools. His
daughter, Leal, is a freshman in the Ateneo majoring in AB Humanities. This is an edited version
of his essay which appeared in the “Chalk Marks” section of The Guidon (volume LXXV, number
6), a copy of which can be found on many Internet sites. The editor is not credited. This copy is
taken from here: http://omi4president.multiply.com/journal/item/115/>.

1 When my daughter had the chance to finish high school in New York, we agonized
about it: I more than her. Her agony centered around the need to moderate her desire to
embark on this adventure because she knew it would break my heart. My agony had
two thorns. First, I didn’t want her to go because in all our lives, we had never spent
more than two days apart from each other. Second, there was the irony of her studying
in the United States. As a nationalist academic and development worker, I always
believed that one’s spirit had to be formed with one’s people—among their myths and
their sufferings—in order to understand who one is, what one’s responsibilities are, and
to whom one’s heart belongs. I know to the sophisticated global citizen I would sound
archaic and provincial, but I still believe that before our spirit can embrace the world it
must be rooted in a home we love. But I knew that the idea of giving up this opportunity
was breaking her up inside because, as she said, she might spend the rest of her life
wondering what if, so I let her go. She left with the promise that she would come back
for college because I still believe that the university years are formative. But we all know
how those promises go. Two years in the glitter of a new world could weaken the
bindings of promises made in times of great emotions. It has been a year and we are
now completely at peace with her decision to leave.
2 All that I have said is a prelude to why I am writing this piece. I am writing this to
explain why I believe her formation in the Ateneo would still be the best for my
daughter. I want to clarify to everyone else who raise their eyebrows at me, what I mean
when I say that I believe an education here is superior to any Ivy League education.
Many of my colleagues who know that my daughter has a chance to study in an
American university cannot understand why I would prefer that she study here. One of
them even exclaimed: “You would prefer that she study here even if she had a chance to
study in Harvard!” with a you-are-so ridiculous tone. And to me the answer was “Yes,
of course, you’re so ridiculous.” And the reason is simply this: she may get a superior
technical education in some top-ranking university abroad but only in the Philippines
will she have a superior education in being a Filipino for Filipinos.
3 My daughter wants to be a writer, and recently she has had a chance to attend a
prestigious workshop in an American university best known as a center for writing. And
I was witness to how because of that opportunity, her writing skills have advanced light

on the meaning of an ateneo education • 1

 years from when she left. I have no doubt that if she studied creative writing in one of
the US universities known for it, her skills would be strengthened even more. But what
would she write about? A great writer is as much about her skill as it is about her great
insight. If you have the skill but not the immersion in the profound realities that have
formed your soul, what is there to write about? And who would she write for? A truly
great writer is one whose passion is fueled by the need to speak for her people,
especially the mute. And to even begin to want to speak for them, you have to be
grounded in their misery. One’s people are never generic: they take concrete form in the
faces that resonate in your heart. I think an education in her own country would prepare
her to face the faces that resonate in her heart and perhaps an Ateneo education could
awaken the passion to respond to those faces.
4 I know that many complain that Ateneans lead a very sheltered life in this campus.
In an infinite number of ways that is ridiculously true. In the end, the Ateneo is the
Ateneo: a separate world from the world of the margins. But what most people don’t
understand about the Ateneo, is that the Ateneo is not just about the majors or the
specific programs. It is about a spirit that pervades its best people.
5 When I was young, I was ready to quit the Church because I was convinced that
there were no intelligent and just Catholics. And then I came to the Ateneo where I met
Catholics who strove to serve the margins because of their love of God. And because
they loved God’s people, they strove for excellence. That realization astounded me and
kept me in the Church and in Ateneo. If anything, Filipino Jesuit education just means to
teach people that the love of God means nothing but to love the people who suffer
forgotten in the margins, and that we strive for excellence in what we do to serve them
best: otherwise excellence and the love of God is empty. What else does faith mean?
What else grounds excellence? What else measures the good of a life but that? And if
you take Ateneo education seriously enough, and if you are open to its opportunities
enough, it will lead you to that realization and it will lead you to your first opening to
the faces that you will have to serve. At its core, Ateneo education is an apprenticeship
in the work of being a Filipino for others. This is only a slogan so long as one misses out
on the living examples of alumni, scholars, administrators, maintenance and staff who
show us the way to realizing the truth of an Ateneo education. Open your eyes to those
who serve radically and they will radically educate your heart. And if one is open
enough one can see that such people dwell in this school because there is a spirit in this
school that cradles them and supports their vocation. It is intangible, but it is a spirit that
guides the best of us.
6 Some people feel that we are an elite school that cultivates an elite rationality.
Radioactive Sago’s brilliant third album is titled … Ang Daming Nagugutom Sa Mundo
Fashionista Ka Pa Rin. In one gig, Lourd de Vera was plugging their album and he said
“Bilhin ninyo ang aming album ‘… Ang Daming Nagugutom Sa Mundo Atenista Ka Pa
Rin.’” I could understand his sentiments exactly. Just listen to conversations in the
pocket garden where people complain about the heat, their slow laptops, and their old
cell phones and anyone who knows anything about the hardships in our country will
easily agree with Lourd. But then, if you think about it, although some of our graduates
are oblivious to the suffering around them and even if some of them do reinforce
structures that exploit the suffering, there is that core of Ateneans touched by the spirit
of this school who choose to genuinely build communities founded on justice, to found

on the meaning of an ateneo education • 2

enterprises that serve true needs, to lawyer for the oppressed, and to doctor for the poor.
Many innovations of justice building in our country arise because of their apprentice-
ships in the magis of our service. We just don’t hear about these things because they
don’t find their way into our tarpaulins. But the spirit is there and it is the spirit that
defines us more than basketball championships or the number of CEOs we produce.
Somehow, because of our formation, Ateneans still tend to be idealistic about service.
And so I say “Dahil ang daming nagugutom sa mundo, kailangan mong seryosohin ang pagka-
Atenista.” This is why, my dear fellow parents, I think an Ateneo education is more
valuable for my daughter than a Cornell or Harvard or Princeton education: because
here, we learn to be excellent for something important—our people and our Filipino
humanity.

on the meaning of an ateneo education • 3