My Public Narrative
My Public Narrative
“ The Doctor is In/Out”
Luis Ramon V. Rodriguez, MDM 2013
My father was born in Zamboanga City from an ordinary family. My grandfather earns his keeps as a musician and usually plays with a band during town fiestas and social gathering. My father loves music and learned to play the piano in the nearby church where an American missionary taught him. After the war, he moved out of Zamboanga City and went to Manila as a working student. He didn’t finish his college because he needs to work full time in order to send money back to his family in ZC. He worked as a social worker in Samar then was transferred to San Ildefonso, Bulacan where he met my mother-to-be, helping street kids find their way back to the folds of the society. He used to tell a story about how he was able to save homeless children and keep them away from hunger and involvement in petty crimes. Many years later, I remember one Sunday morning when a family came to visit our ancestral house in Valenzuela City. While waiting for my father to come down from the second floor, the man was narrating to us how my father took cared of him when he was a wayward street kid back then. He is so grateful because he is now married with a stable job and blessed with a happy family. According to him, if not for my father he could have been the bum in the street doing crazy things. And I was happy to hear that. Now I know where I got my ‘genes’ to help others. Probably it is a system that I inherited from my father. On the other hand, my mother reared me close to the church. We all studied in a school run by Augustinian Sisters. Even though we were a struggling family back then, my parents tried their best to give us the best education that they can afford. We were in a private school. I remember that we were always last to take the exams because we are always delayed in payment of dues,. My mother will be in the accounting office has to sign a promissory note so that we can to
“ The Doctor is In/Out”
Luis Ramon V. Rodriguez, MDM 2013
My father was born in Zamboanga City from an ordinary family. My grandfather earns his keeps as a musician and usually plays with a band during town fiestas and social gathering. My father loves music and learned to play the piano in the nearby church where an American missionary taught him. After the war, he moved out of Zamboanga City and went to Manila as a working student. He didn’t finish his college because he needs to work full time in order to send money back to his family in ZC. He worked as a social worker in Samar then was transferred to San Ildefonso, Bulacan where he met my mother-to-be, helping street kids find their way back to the folds of the society. He used to tell a story about how he was able to save homeless children and keep them away from hunger and involvement in petty crimes. Many years later, I remember one Sunday morning when a family came to visit our ancestral house in Valenzuela City. While waiting for my father to come down from the second floor, the man was narrating to us how my father took cared of him when he was a wayward street kid back then. He is so grateful because he is now married with a stable job and blessed with a happy family. According to him, if not for my father he could have been the bum in the street doing crazy things. And I was happy to hear that. Now I know where I got my ‘genes’ to help others. Probably it is a system that I inherited from my father. On the other hand, my mother reared me close to the church. We all studied in a school run by Augustinian Sisters. Even though we were a struggling family back then, my parents tried their best to give us the best education that they can afford. We were in a private school. I remember that we were always last to take the exams because we are always delayed in payment of dues,. My mother will be in the accounting office has to sign a promissory note so that we can to