The first female professor of the Ateneo
TODAY, we see women in all sorts of professions, and they especially shine so bright (like a diamond!) in the academic and the teaching profession. It is hard to imagine that a little over 60 years ago, they were still trying to break the glass ceiling.
In 1949, the young Carmen Guerrero Nakpil wrote in The Philippines Herald in December 1949: “The women I have in mind believe in the power of knowledge and of thought, in the force of public opinion, in the democratic vote, in truth, goodness and hard work, and in the perfectibility of the human condition.” She was still imagining things.
Also, what constituted to many people as “Philippine culture” worthy of study in the academe would be those different from many of us living in urban areas: the cultures of people living in the mountains. Anthropologists used to be white men who were fond of studying national minorities and collecting their artifacts, exoticizing them for the perspective of a Western audience, a product of colonialism.
Within the next five years, a young woman by the name of Mary Racelis completed her bachelor’s degree in sociology and anthropology at Cornell University in Ithaca, New York. By the end of the decade, she would have completed her MA in Sociology at the University of the Philippines. At that time in post-war Philippines, the academe was still dominated by the “Big Men.”
One of the potential “Big Man” in academe at the time was an American from New Jersey named Frank Lynch, SJ, who, after finishing his master’s degree in anthropology at UP in 1952, went on to complete his doctorate at the University of Chicago, returning to Ateneo de Manila to champion the study of sociology and anthropology.
One day, Mary offered Father Lynch a ride home. The Jesuit priest had been problematizing about the way cultural studies were done in the country. Isn’t it that the everyday life of 80 percent of lowland Filipinos — Bikolano, Tagalog, Cebuano, Ilocano, Ilonggo, Kapampangan, Pangasinense and the Waray-Waray in rural and urban areas should also be considered “Philippine culture”? During that conversation, they found that they had a similar belief: that the inquiry into society should begin by asking the ordinary person about their everyday life to get to know what constitutes Filipino identity. Even if many times, we also change our views about it and how we live it. The priest told her about his plan to create an institution that would research our society using sociology and anthropology to promote equality and social change.
As he was getting out of the car, Lynch asked Mary, “Would you be interested in joining me?”
Since she said yes, the Institute of Philippine Culture (IPC) and the Department of Sociology and Anthropology (DSA) were established, and she became one of their first staff members. The IPC became the pioneer in ethical research practices, such as paying its researchers, getting informed consent, and bringing back their studies to stakeholders.
Mary also became the first female faculty member of the Ateneo de Manila University!
Who would have thought that after almost five decades, I would meet this historic figure in Philippine academia through another anthropologist, my first history teacher in college, Prof. Carlos P. Tatel Jr. (later PhD), on Feb. 2, 2007. She was lecturing at the UP Department of Anthropology and
somewhat minimized — that belabor her. This is not insignificant, as it contradicts the actual Vietnamese culture of the time; until modern times, the Vietnamese language did not even have a term to accurately express the concept of “gay man.”
As for the all-important title role as Kim, I would give Filipino actress Abigail Adriano mixed marks. Granted, I imagine the role of Kim, given the huge shoes Lea Salonga has left to fill, is both terrifying and irresistible to young Filipino actresses, but nonetheless, it seemed just a bit beyond Ms. Adriano, though she gamely gave it her all. She certainly looks and acts the part exceedingly well but lacks the vocal strength to carry it off completely; there were moments when her singing was a bit indistinct and a couple of sweeping vocal passages that were obviously just a bit much for her capabilities.
The rest of the cast did a very good job, though again, some roles, such as the aforementioned Thuy (played by Laurence Mossman) and Gigi — played exceptionally well by local gal Kiara Dario, who I would have rather seen cast as Kim — were somewhat muted. Nigel Huckle and Sarah Morrison, both competent singers, did a good job portraying the despairing Chris and Ellen, and the best singer of the lot was New Zealand-based opera veteran Lewis Francis as John, whose powerful lead in the song “Bui Doi” was inspiring.
In terms of stagecraft and scoring, there was nothing left wanting, except for one tiny detail that, once noticed, was hard to ignore. “Miss Saigon” is a set-heavy production, and the somewhat confined stage at the Solaire must have made that challenging, but all was well done, except for the sound. Due to some apparent misconfiguration, most of the singing seemed to come from above and to the left, whereas it ought to give the audience the impression it is coming directly from the singers’ mouths (even though, in reality, it is not). It was a small thing and probably something easily fixed, but I found it distracting.
I would say my impression of the current production of “Miss Saigon” is probably the curse of familiarity. I have seen an earlier production of the musical (in that instance, with Monique Wilson in the starring role), and I likewise have expert-level knowledge of the history of the Vietnam War, and so for both reasons, I am certain to be a bit pickier than most. If you have not seen “Miss Saigon” or know little of the underlying history, you are likely to be enthralled by the show, which, after all, is what I assume the producers’ intentions are. And, in spite of what I thought were its flaws, I still enjoyed it overall.