‘Why are you so hateful?’

by Xave Gregorio

Often after the publication of a scathing critique or an explosive exclusive on TomasinoWeb, several individuals would go on Twitter and comment on how the article is supposedly seething with hatred. Of course, the commentaries from Twitter are usually less eloquently worded — some simply say, “this article is full of hate” — but regardless of the lack of linguistic finesse, the message they are trying to communicate is clear: The people behind the official digital media organization of this University is propagating hate.

But first, let us define “hate.” According to the ever-trusty Merriam-Webster Dictionary, hate is “intense hostility and aversion usually deriving from fear, anger, or sense of injury.”

Looking back at my last year in the University, I have felt all three sources of hate: I have been afraid of not finishing my degree, of not accomplishing my thesis, of failing to submit crucial requirements, of failing TomasinoWeb, and of failing myself. I have been angry at incompetent groupmates, at heavy traffic and LRT disruptions, at jeepney drivers who insist that I have not paid, at friends, at my family, and at myself. Many times over the past year, I found myself hurt by the product of my shortcomings — all the failures haunted me at night and it made me angry, it made me afraid, and the cycle of hatred continued.

Even beyond the personal, I also felt fear, anger and a sense of injury.

I feared policies and systems in place which only served to repress people. I was angry at those too, and even furious at people who were capable of addressing these unrestrained exercises of power, but chose to turn a blind eye or worse, participate — all for their personal gain. I felt hurt and betrayed by these people, some of whom I believed and trusted in and eventually voted for. Moreover, I was hurt during times when I, TomasinoWeb, members of the campus press, ordinary students and ordinary citizens became targets of repression.

Perhaps, people were correct to tell me that I was hateful: I hated systems that oppress and repress people. I hated the people who continue to enable and perpetuate these systems. But is it wrong? Is it morally incorrect to feel repulsion towards injustice?

During our retreat at Caleruega in Batangas, we were told of a quote by anti-Nazi German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer: “Silence in the face of evil is evil itself: God will not hold us guiltless. Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act.”

When our block went to Pansol, Laguna for a swimming trip, I and The Varsitarian Editor-in-Chief Kathryn Baylon got to talk while we splashed around in the hot spring pool. At one point in our intoxicated babble, we told each other that we have developed a dislike for our job. It is far too demanding for hardly any recognition. We had to deal with staffers, complaints from readers and deadlines while dealing with papers and projects for our classes. We could have chosen the life of an ordinary Journalism student at the Faculty of Arts and Letters. We could have quit earlier and lived a quieter collegiate existence. It was just easier to not care about pressing issues in the University.

But as much as we disliked doing our job, we did it anyway. Both of us felt that we were morally obliged to our publications and to the students. We needed to tell stories — both good and bad — not because we were serving an agenda or we hated the subjects of our stories. Kathryn put it best, “Baka kasi mahal pa rin natin ito.”

I believe that there is no love which is not difficult, and loving this University is no different. It was hard to love an institution marred by controversies and I would have to admit that at one point, I found myself saying that I hated this institution — but UST taught me better. Early on, I learned that hate is not the opposite of love, but indifference. Apathy is the antithesis of compassion and not antipathy.

Turning a blind eye is easier than gluing both eyes and telling stories. But I cannot bear the heavy burden of indifference, especially if I love this institution so much that I want it to change for the better.

A mother does not hate her drug-addicted son if she turns him in to the police. Love is what moved her to choose losing constant contact with her son rather than allow his self-destructive lifestyle to continue. It is a difficult kind of love, but it is a noble one.

Xave Gregorio, Editor-in-Chief

At this point, I would like to thank my parents for loving me so much that they sent me to UST and spent a hefty sum of money to earn a degree of my own choice. Thank you for feeding, clothing and sheltering me, and for constantly guiding and affirming me, especially in times when I felt lost and worthless.

I am grateful for the love of Lorenzo Gantuangco that had kept me moving. These past two years would have been far more difficult without you.

I thank Roselle Habana, Michelle Del Agua, Armando Razon, Penny Cuenca, Marla Papas, Tovy Bordado and Anna Mogato for their various expressions of love. You are people I could always count on. Trust that you can always count on me too.

To the crazy kids of 4JRN1, I love all of you. I am proud of what we have achieved. I know that we can get to greater heights.

My fellow TomasinoWeb editors and Core officers, I admire the love that you have poured out for our organization to keep it running. For those who will remain and become the next set of editors and officers, I hope you exhibit the same love that we have shown. Make TomasinoWeb your partner (or third party, if you already have a partner.)

To my teachers from nursery up to my senior year in college, your love for educating students put me where I am now. Thank you for everything.

Finally, for my fellow Thomasian graduates, always be moved by love to speak out against injustice and to serve the people.