Nothing ever changes. Rejection always tears me down. Rejection always ends up at our front door, looking for me. Or maybe it’ll be in a text message, saying sorry. Is there anyone in the world who has never experienced rejection? Not likely. Rejection is that one-of-a-kind destruction.
August 2010, September 2011, October 2011—three strikes. The Inquirer is a newspaper I admire, specifically its Youngblood section, which is open to young people who want to share what’s on their mind. I had submitted three pieces, the last two one after the other, and not one was published. This is the fourth.
Every time I was told, “No, sorry, please try again, though,” it had the same effect. The feeling started in my stomach, slowly creating an imaginary pain that equaled the force of a punch in the gut. Then I’d feel dull and empty.
But that’s how it is. I try again and again, not because I am getting used to the feeling, but because if I do not try again, how will I know whether I’m getting better? Even if I fear rejection, somehow I have to be brave enough to find a way to reject that fear. My passion for writing will never waver; I know that for a fact because every time I wake up (I’m not exaggerating), I know what I have to do—write and write and write.
On Oct. 9, 2011, I, along with my classmates Franchesca Julian, Ann Lauzon, Alyssa Naldoza and Patricia Rivera in San Beda College Alabang, had the chance to interview Isagani Yambot, the publisher of the Inquirer. For our project in Philippine history, we were told to interview a practitioner in our course. And thank you, Lord, because we got the opportunity.
Sir Isagani was a man of words. Not one word from him appeared to be useless. He truly knows the history of the Philippine Daily Inquirer, he said with enthusiasm. All of us were hooked. Not really knowing us personally, Sir Isagani was passing his knowledge to us willingly. We asked questions, took notes and took turns in holding the camera. Though we had varied tasks, we had one thing in common: respect for Sir Isagani.
After narrating to us the history of the Inquirer, he told us that the print medium was a bittersweet field to be in—bitter because it was time-consuming and labor-intensive, and sweet because after a day’s hard work, one got to be the one to inform people of things that might really help them in life.
We truly enjoyed the flow of the conversation. Sir Isagani occasionally cracked jokes about the print medium, saying, for example, that it was a form of priesthood without the celibacy. It was an experience that has been imprinted on our minds, to be recalled and shared.
That very day, we learned that our course, communication and media studies, was not a joke.
And what better way to end our encounter than with a picture? We captured a moment and a memory. Sir Isagani inspired us to be better, and when we graduate from college, we will toss our toga hats in the air for many reasons, and he will be one of them. (Isagani Yambot passed away last March 2.—ED.)
Jenine Jay G. Bufi, 17, is an incoming sophomore at San Beda College Alabang.
Managing risk
By Samantha Gail B. Lucas
For most people, “risk management” sounds paradoxical and seems like a problematic phrase. Like, who would want to work in that industry when there is enough to worry about in one’s life? For others, it seems archaic because there appears to be a solution to every problem, thanks to the Internet and modern technology.
But risk management can be music to one’s ears if one cares about making a career out of other people’s problems.
I decided to become a risk management officer after working in corporate banking and market research because I grew up admiring my father. He put me through school through risk management. Whether as a consultant or part of the corporate world, he always seemed to solve problems that other people had given up on.
The company I work for is Australian and the industry is different. The principle of working to provide solutions to other people’s problems is in place, enabling me to realize my dream to follow my father’s footsteps. I belong to a small team, and my colleagues are all male. This is an ideal working environment for me as I can focus on my job while learning all about the business I’m engaged in. Being the rookie has also given me the chance to fine-tune my work ethic in an international setting. This has enabled me to reflect on how my father must have solved his own client’s problems, and how he has sent me to school. My life has come full circle, with me now providing solutions to my own client’s woes while learning on the job.
So far, I can say that I’m doing well at work. I have made some friends. Best of all, I am passionate about my job. What started as a tribute to my father turned out to be the fulfillment that I was yearning for.
These days, the only risk I worry about is being consistent on the job. I choose to manage this by keeping all aspects of my life in order and focusing on every task at hand. After all, I do not want to be the living paradox in the term “risk management.” I believe that the best way to work and stay afloat in this business is to merge the risk and the way of management. That way, they work symbiotically, rather than paradoxically.
There are more risks for me to manage, whether on the job or in real life. Examples of these are honing my driving skills, making my own decisions, and becoming the person that I was born to be. For all of that, I have my family to guide me. But for every decision I make, I am proud to be my own risk manager. After all, that is what adulthood is all about.
Samantha Gail B. Lucas, 25, is a risk management officer at a multinational company in Ortigas Center.