HERE, Rochit Tañedo. A troublesome but worthwhile post. Mary Racelis on the Ateneo Martial Law Experience [Excerpt from University Traditions: The Social Interviews] July 8, 2014 at 11:33am Have been reading the various posts on the Imelda Ateneo scholars flap and I was reminded of this interview with Mary Racelis (once Hollnsteiner) on her experience in the Ateneo during Martial Law (I still capitalize it when it refers to that historical time, as my own commitment to remembering). This was published in the second volume of University Traditions, called The Social Sciences Interviews, published by the Ateneo itself through OMIOD, its office for mission and identity. Frankly, I think some of the heat in the discussion arises from a presumption (and a forgetfulness) I dont share: that a university as it persists over time follows a clear ideological line, that it is linear and homogenous, that it is unwavering in its commitment to its ideals. People forget that the earliest universities didnt even have a well-defined campus. And this is a university owned by Jesuits, a brilliant and contentious lot, who have educated people as disparate as Descartes and Fidel Castro. Perhaps this is why their founder envisioned their special vow of obedience to the pope because otherwise, how could you manage differences between a Donelan and an Intengan, an Arevalo and a Carroll? And so, I prefer the old fashioned definition that a university is a community of scholars, and scholars being people, it will always have a messy, icky and yucky side. It is precisely the place where people are allowed to argue, where clashes of tastes are allowed to happen. This is why I dont agree with dress codes and handbook pronouncements that intrude on a teachers pedagogical technique and why I am suspicious of prophets of political correctness. More importantly, it should be one of the places where one can make mistakes--because at least for young people, those mistakes can be penalized by a lower or failing grade, suspension, even expulsion instead of losing a job or a life or a loved one. A Role Model’s Lessons and Memories INTERVIEWER ~ What are some of your lessons or memories of your time at the Ateneo? Do you remember stirring times or times that affected you deeply? DR RACELIS ~ There are many little vignettes of things. I was teaching a class in Philippine Society and many of the students were from Management Engineering. Those were some of the top students, and many of them were really characters. I became quite friendly with the very smart guys and I think they were fond of me because I challenged them to think and act. As I was walking by one day, this group came up behind me and began to sing “Mary wants to be a Superwoman,” [Stevie Wonder]. We had that kind of friendly bantering relationship. They felt they could tease me and that I would not take it as being disrespectful. Informality defines my relationship with students but I’d have to say that’s usually with the bright students or at least the ones who are interested in the subject, even if they’re not the brightest. I discourage them from putting me on a pedestal while they distance themselves in awe, afraid to speak to me. That’s not a good teacher-student relationship. And maybe simply because of my age, I never had any discipline problems in college classes. Even at IPC, from the beginning I encouraged people to call me by my first name, so they wouldn’t feel distant in any way but could readily approach me. More recently it’s become “Ma’am Mary” though and I’ve more or less resigned myself to that for the younger ones. INTERVIEWER ~ What about being a role model? DR RACELIS ~ Because I was so aware of being a role model in the 60s and 70s, I paid special attention to the women students. It was important though also to be a mentor for the men, who were not used to seeing women excel in what was then a male world. And me being so — well, whatever it was I did there — maybe both nurturing and academically demanding, I guess a lot of students appreciated me. The smart, self-confident ones would come not only to joke but also to tell me their problems in both personal and career choices, and we would talk seriously. I always loved that about the Ateneo. I felt I could inspire many bright young people in whatever field they chose, to care about, even champion, the cause of those in society who are left out. Those who did that have made my life at the Ateneo so very rewarding. To this day, I’ll be walking along a sidewalk or in a mall, and someone will stop me and say, “Mrs Hollnsteiner? Remember me? I was in your class in 1968! You know, you said something then that I’ve never forgotten …” He then tells me what and, invariably, I have absolutely no recollection of that. My next query is usually, “And what are you doing now? If you’re doing something that is benefiting disadvantaged Filipinos, then you listened in my class. If not, then you didn’t!” I don’t press though, and we usually end up laughing and saying our cheery goodbyes. That’s why teaching is so rewarding! Another memorable highlight was when the [University] Senate existed. INTERVIEWER ~ The Faculty Senate? Is that like the School Council now? DR RACELIS ~ Yes, in a way. But the Senate had much more authority and clout. Only tenured teachers were members, and to be tenured you had to have at least the rank of associate professor. The chair elected by the faculty would convene the Senate and the president would be forced to listen to the comments and criticisms of his outspoken peers on the agenda items, and respond. Those were great debating meetings around key policy issues. The Senate really formulated the school policy, almost like a collective management. The president was a kind of primus inter pares, who had to take into account the senior faculty’s views. There at the EAPI auditorium, we had great discussions, very intellectual and very challenging. The vast majority present were Jesuits, including those from Loyola House, and all the stars I mentioned earlier were members. For the very few and younger lay faculty members, like Ramon Reyes (†), Mody Chua, Amando Kapauan (†), Helen Tubangui (†), Emy Pascasio (†), Willy Arce (†), Eric Torres, Bien Lumbera, Rolando Tinio (†) and myself, the meetings were really eye-openers. We learned from the Jesuits that you could argue and disagree vehemently with one another — and still leave the meeting friends. Because the whole thing about bringing in the laity was strong, I remember the Jesuits as being very encouraging about our speaking up. So, we did, without feeling that we would be punished somehow for disagreeing. Tenure brought the privilege of permanent status in the university. One of the related vignettes was, the first three years I was in it, that it was always the women who were made secretary. And that bugged me a lot since it mirrored the gender bias of the larger society. I never became the secretary because I absolutely refused. Yet, from the minute women entered the Ateneo and finally got tenure, they got elected secretary. And the chair was always a male! So one year, I got together with Helen, Ana and Emy, and said, “Okay, this time, we are not going to accept the nomination as secretary.” We agreed to put Willy Arce into that slot to recognize also the lay faculty. So when the chair opened up nominations for secretary, Ana raised her hand, “I nominate Willy Arce,” and I immediately followed with, “I second the motion.” I’m not sure now if it was Emy who added, “I move we close the debate and call for a vote.” The chair had no choice. Being the only candidate, Willy was in effect elected. He probably never forgave us for that one-two- three trick. The entire body roared with laughter when they realized what had happened. The women had plotted a successful coup and for the first time, a man was the secretary of the Senate. It was a small but significant feminist triumph! Losing Lumbera, Simbulan and Tinio A third memory for me was being on the board of trustees as elected faculty representative during Martial Law. After Fr Araneta stepped down, Fr Cruz (the senior Jose) became president. Although he undoubtedly had many valuable qualities, he and I clashed on several issues. Because I was the faculty trustee, I felt that I had to object to some of the policies he wanted to institute. And he was not used to anybody’s being contrary or pushing an agenda not to his liking. And maybe because he didn’t like being challenged openly in that way in front of the other board members, some of them alumni and others, Jesuits, he and I always maintained a distant relationship. I don’t think he was comfortable with me there at the board meetings. But my problem and that of many of the lay faculty came from the Martial Law situation and our views of Fr Cruz’s role in it. Many of us felt he was too close to Malacañang and the Marcos family and that generated all kinds of negative rumors. Only after Martial Law was over did I learn that he used his close ties to get students, faculty and others out of detention, and protected the Ateneo by insisting that the university administration, not the government, should police the campus. At the time though, I didn’t know that. There is no question in my mind though that Fr Cruz did not want to challenge the existing political order. In fact, the students and, to a lesser extent, the faculty were much more courageous and demanding. One problem for Ateneo activists was that despite their supporting SocDem [Social Democrat] principles, they nonetheless suffered the taunts of their UP and other university counterparts. There the Ateneans would be: on the streets walking picket lines or joining demonstrations or working in poor communities but we were sometimes jeered at as “clerico-fascists,” the tuta of Malacañang. That hurt. Adding more fuel to the fire were the cases of two faculty members, Dante Simbulan and Bien Lumbera, who were dismissed from the Ateneo because of their political beliefs. Both had been members of MAGAT, a NatDem [National Democrat] organization on campus. I know the administration was trying to find ways of getting them out. One of the flimsier excuses regarding Dante, I remember, was that he had not reported back to work within the period prescribed by the Ateneo administration, so he could be dismissed. Of course, he was still hiding for fear of detention and his life. I argued the case for academic freedom and the right of faculty, as with Dante and Bien, to express their views openly in class and in publications. But more and more statements were coming out of administration circles suggesting that academic freedom was not absolute. Dante and Bien were fired. The administration used language that made it all seem legitimate, but many of us in the faculty, including a number of Jesuits, felt it was outright persecution. In the process, the Ateneo was taking the side of an oppressive government. A number of Jesuits and lay faculty [members] who knew of my struggles at board meetings with Fr Cruz remarked at the time, “My goodness, Mary, when it comes to issues of social justice, you’re more Jesuit than the Jesuits!” I guess that was a compliment, so I took it as such! Most of the Jesuits, alumni and others on the board sided with Fr Cruz on how to deal with Left-leaning faculty. Only a minority, including me, took a contrary view. Not only did we lose these two faculty members, a huge loss was Rolando Tinio, who tried to bring back Bien with the apparent blessing of Fr Nebres, then dean. Many petitions of support for Bien were signed by the faculty and students. The matter was argued in the University Senate, with Fr Lynch, a couple of others and me strongly advocating Bien’s return as part of his rights under academic freedom. We could not convince the Senate, which gave a wimpy response. Fr Cruz adamantly refused to reinstate Bien. So Bien went to UP which welcomed him with open arms. And Rolando resigned. Later, one of my Jesuit friends told me that at one back porch conversation after the Senate debate, Fr Cruz raised the idea that both Fr Lynch and I should be dismissed from the Ateneo. But wiser heads prevailed in that case. I guess the board and Fr Cruz felt they had to take the prudent and safe approach. And who knows whether the Ateneo might have suffered much more had he not been the president? But were his actions just? Did they uphold the value of academic freedom and human rights? To me that was infinitely important for a university. So, much as I admire the Jesuits, I have also seen their darker side. I guess you just have to take them as they are, warts and all! Gaining Van Cliburn Yet another indignity was the Van Cliburn episode. He was Mrs Marcos’ protégé and was coming to Manila for a series of piano concerts. The Ateneo was looking for large scholarship funds to bring in a significant number of bright but economically poor students. Aside from its being the right thing to do, the funds would help offset the prevailing image of the Ateneo as an exclusive, rich person’s school. Into the picture comes Imelda with a promise to donate a huge amount of money for scholarships, something like five million pesos, plus the proceeds of Cliburn’s concert at the CCP (Cultural Center of the Philippines)! But, she added, it would be nice if the Ateneo would recognize him with an honorary degree. Imelda knew there was no way UP would do that, so she approached us. Maybe he deserved it in his own right. But because she was the one proposing it and because of the unsavory dangling of five million pesos, for some of us akin to five million pieces of silver, it became a huge controversy. When the matter reached the board, I objected, as did other trustees. I really fought that Cliburn award, since I felt that yet again, we were bowing to Malacañang and Mrs Marcos. How could Ateneans hold up our heads in fighting against the dictatorship if we were so chummy with Imelda and Ferdie? So, along with a few other trustees, I resisted the proposal every inch of the way. But again prudence in decision-making prevailed; the five million pesos was too difficult to reject as it would do a lot of good for student scholarships. When the board voted in favor of a degree for Cliburn, I immediately announced that I would not attend the ceremony. Yet — would you believe? — the day before it happened, a student committee came to me and said that because I was the faculty trustee and a woman, I was being asked to present Mrs Marcos with a bouquet of flowers when she arrived with Van Cliburn? They nearly jumped out of their skins when I responded in a fairly loud voice, “Are you kidding?! I’m not even attending!” “But Ma’am, you’re a trustee!” “I don’t care if I’m a trustee. I’m boycotting the ceremony.” That was the end of that. As I recall, considering the campus protests, the event was quite toned down. What an episode that was! INTERVIEWER ~ Did you finally reconcile with Fr Cruz? DR RACELIS ~ Not really. We stayed out of each other’s way. Both of us were cordial to each other and since I was the director of IPC in the 70s, I couldn’t avoid some kind of interaction with him. I’m sure he was quite relieved when I resigned in 1978 to join UNICEF. But would you believe, about four years later, when the UN was forced to declassify personnel files, I asked to see mine. And there was the standard letter of recommendation form completed by Fr Cruz as my supervisor. It said something like, “Mrs Hollnsteiner is a bright and articulate woman but she can sometimes be difficult.” Can you imagine? I’m glad they hired me anyway. INTERVIEWER ~ I remember him asking you in collaboration with Richard Burcroff to take a look at what our land reform was doing. Richard quotes him as saying, “You know I suspect she might be leaning to the Left, so be sure to stay on guard!” Something like that. Fr Cruz was really bent on protecting the Ateneo. DR RACELIS ~ That’s right. In the end, who’s to say who’s right or wrong? But when you were there at that time, under a Martial Law atmosphere extending even to the campus, many of us felt very uneasy about the Ateneo posture as defined by Fr Cruz. So, I felt I had to voice this for the faculty. I felt that responsibility intensely. Giving a Voice to Women INTERVIEWER ~ It seems that to me that one of your contributions to the Ateneo de Manila, and there are many, has been to give a voice to the women faculty members and strengthen their positions in academic life. I know that early on many female faculty members would seek your advice. I remember when you returned from UNICEF. A lot of women especially were very eager to see you back. I don’t know what it is. My impression is that one of the contributions you’ve made over the years has been to get women to be assertive and confident. Your message was that they can go on with their lives whether they are married or single. Do you see it that way? DR RACELIS ~ Yes, definitely! I would make a point of raising a lot of the women’s issues. Just as an example, I was on the rank and tenure committee. And I remember one meeting where several people were being considered for associate professor, for which a promotion and therefore salary increase were involved. There was only one slot open and the faculty candidates had been narrowed down to two: a woman and a man. We discussed each of them and as they were fairly evenly matched, the discussion went on and on. One male member of the committee then commented, “Well, you know, I guess I would vote for Mr Such-and-such because he needs the money. Since Mrs Such-andsuch’s husband is fairly wealthy, she doesn’t need the money.” I remember responding indignantly, “Wait a minute! We’re here to select people who deserve things in their own right and I object to that criterion for judging a promotion! To decide in favor of the man because the woman’s husband has money and she doesn’t need it, while he does?! Come on!” I then insisted we go over yet again each of the qualifications. Maybe I asked for a more objective scoring scheme. I don’t remember now which one got the promotion but I was satisfied that the choice was based on personal merit. So whenever there is a latent or obvious discrimination issue, I make sure to raise it. To this day, I want to know why our board of trustees still has only one woman. I don’t know if the pattern has persisted since my era, but it’s high time the token woman syndrome ends! Granted the majority have to be Jesuit, so that means, by definition, male but after all, there are another six or seven lay slots. Surely having only one woman out of six positions is questionable? So, these are the anomalies I like to point out. These days, I find that people don’t object. The males will defend themselves by saying, “Oh, you’re right, I didn’t think of that. No problem.” Then do something about it — usually. That kind of thing. Before, you had to fight to establish the principle. Today it’s more that people don’t necessarily see it, so you have to call it to their attention. Interestingly, when I was the Ford Foundation country director here, I would often have to advise NGO boards to add more men for a better gender balance. What Co-eds Should Wear Let me give you one other example of the need to call attention to discrimination against women when it arises even inadvertently. (Fr Stein [Steinbugler], who is a good friend of mine, will shoot me because he always shakes his head in consternation when I tell this story.) He was the dean of admissions I think, the year co-education was first going to be implemented. My daughter, Susi, an incoming sophomore at Maryknoll, had applied to transfer to the Ateneo. So I get the thick envelope with a letter from Fr Steinbugler announcing that she has been admitted. Wonderful! But among the many enclosures was a sketch of the uniform that women were to wear! It showed a fashionable pantsuit or a blouse-and-skirt combination; they had a choice. “Uniform!” I thought to myself. “In college? They’re going to have a uniform! Ridiculous! The male students don’t wear uniforms!” My anger was building up. The next morning I stalked into Fr Stein’s office, eyes flashing and, throwing the drawing on his desk, gauntletstyle, I demanded, “What is this? How dare you! Why are women wearing uniforms? Are the men wearing uniforms?” He was startled, to say the least, and replied something like, “Well, you know, Mary, the thing is, the women will come to school dressed in fancy outfits. We want to downplay the differences between the well-off girls and the poorer ones. Uniforms will make everyone more equal.” “Are the men going to have uniforms?” I countered. “Well, no, because men don’t flaunt those differences in what they wear.” “Are you kidding? You don’t see that some men have these alligators embroidered on their shirts and some don’t? Some just wear simple khaki pants and shirts, while others wear fancier outfits? Some come in a car and others walk up the road. You don’t think they know there’s a difference?” I continued, “I object to college students, male or female, having to wear uniforms. That’s high school stuff. But I really object when women are required to do that and the men aren’t! That’s discrimination! If the women have to wear uniforms, then the men should too. But neither should have to wear uniforms in the first place!” Fr Stein countered, “But it’s the women faculty [members] who designed the uniform! They seemed quite excited about choosing the styles.” My response, “Which women faculty [members]? I’ll go and talk to them.” When he gave me their names, I calmed down and said I would raise the matter with them as they may not have been aware of the implications. So I did. And they in turn explained, “The administration just asked us to design uniforms, so we didn’t think anything about it.” So, very calmly, I discussed the issues with these three faculty women, all good friends of mine. After a while they said, “That’s right! Why are women wearing uniforms and the men not?” They agreed to see Fr Stein collectively to withdraw their implicit approval. I guess he either backed down or told whoever thought up the idea: scrap the uniforms. I do know that Susi and later, my two other Ateneo children, Lisa and Peter, were happy they didn’t have to wear uniforms. That’s one of the fun things I remember, although at the time it wasn’t funny. INTERVIEWER ~ What do you think about dress codes today? The board has been discussing that. DR RACELIS ~ I think the students should first be asked what they consider acceptable and what not, then go on from there to discuss and negotiate. The funny thing about the uniforms, as Fr Stein reflected a couple years later, laughing, there was this apprehension that if the women wore short skirts and were walking upstairs, the men were going to look up, you know, and all of that. What he considers amusing is when the women did arrive in full force, they dressed mostly in maong pants and simple blouses or shirts. Nobody seemed to want to flaunt anything. He now accepts that maybe it wasn’t necessary to have uniforms.
Posted on: Tue, 08 Jul 2014 07:56:45 +0000
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