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21 Century Literature from the Philippines and the World

First Quarter: Week 3
Grade Level: ________________
Name: _________________________
Date: ______________________
Section: ________________________

LEARNING ACTIVITY SHEET

Lesson 1: Context and Text’s Meaning

Background Information

Reading is a complex process. Most times, one has to take time reading a literary
text because of various factors. One of these factors is understanding its context.
According to Shen (2012), a text cannot exist on its own; it is ―influenced and restricted
by context.‖

A text refers to the actual words written on the page.

Context refers to the historical, sociocultural, political, linguistic, etc.

surroundings of the text that help readers interpret and accurately understand
it.

Learning Competency with Code:

Discuss how different contexts enhance the text‘s meaning and enrich the
reader‘s understanding.

Activity 1: Below is a poem written by Jose Rizal. Read and analyze the poem‘s
context by answering the questions that follow.

Jose Rizal wrote this poem for Josephine Bracken. It was written during his exile
in Dapitan.

To Josephine
Josephine, Josephine
Who to these shores have come
Looking for a nest, a home,
Like a wandering swallow;
If your fate is taking you
To Japan, China or Shanghai,
Don‘t forget that on these shores
A heart for you beats high.
 Source: jose
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Answer the questions to check your understanding of the poem‘s context. Use the space provided for your
answer.
1. Why was Josephine‘s name repeated in the poem‘s first line?
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2. Which line in the poem proves your answer in Question 1?

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3. What country did Rizal pertain to in Lines 7 and 8? Prove your answer.
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4. Why did Rizal think that Josephine‘s fate might take her elsewhere?
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Activity 2: Read the essay below, and accomplish the activities that follow.
Laurel Flores Fantauzzo was born in Southern California to a Filipina mother and an Italian-American
father. She is a writer and teacher. Much of her work finds her studying appetites, identity, the signals for
real love, and the home search. She is mostly a nonfiction writer and an essayist, but she also writes
young adult fiction.

Under My Invisible Umbrella

 Laurel Flores Fantauzzo
I accepted the man‘s service without question, as if he had been standing at the
doorway of the Olongapo office building waiting only for me. As if I knew he would
head into the downpour, open his umbrella, hold the tenuous shelter of it over my
head, and walk at my pace, getting wet himself. I accepted his work without a
―Salamat po.‖ I was second to worst in my class of Filipino American would-be
Tagalog speakers that July, and, in 2007, at age 23, I was still too embarrassed to try.

As I waited for the rest of my Fil-Am classmates, my Tagalog teacher Susan

Quimpo approached me, holding her own umbrella.

―Did you notice that he held the umbrella only for you?‖ she murmured.
My classmates and I sounded the same: Fil-Ams managing our emotional
confusion with loud inside jokes about our two months together in Manila. But they
were brown and they were damp. I was pale and I was dry.
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My classmates and I sounded the same: Fil-Ams managing our emotional confusion
with loud inside jokes about our two months together in Manila. But they were brown
and they were damp. I was pale and I was dry.

The man was not holding the umbrella above me. He was holding the umbrella
above my whiteness. He was holding it like a flag for everything he assumed my
 whiteness represented: my wealth, my station in life—higher than his—and my
deserving extra service.

This worship of whiteness is not a phenomenon unique to the Philippines. But

that day in Olongapo, I felt a surge of shame.

Of course, whether I felt guilty or not, I was still dry.

Before moving to the Philippines, I had no idea how closely my class would be
identified with my face. In America, my face had been merely diverting, a prompt for
racial guessing-games that always made me shudder. ―Mexican! Polish! Sephardic!‖
―You kinda look Spanish and Oriental at the same time. What is that?‖ Or my face
had been an inspiration for the saying of strange, murky compliments that made me
shudder more. ―I wish I had your nice, smooth, Asian skin.‖ ―You‘re so lucky your
nose isn‘t too—well, you know.‖

In Manila, my ambiguous whiteness was no longer ambiguous. It was simply

whiteness.

Thanks to my face, and the strength of the dollars I had, I was top one-
percenting for the first time in my life. I lived, overtly, the troubling inventory Peggy
McIntosh outlines in ―White Privilege: Unpacking The Invisible Knapsack:‖

Whether I use checks, credit cards or cash, I can count on my skin color not to
work against the appearance of financial reliability.

I can choose public accommodation without fearing that people of my race

cannot get in or will be mistreated in the places I have chosen.

Perhaps, in Manila, I lived a variation of McIntosh‘s theme: Moving Under The

Invisible Umbrella.

Last August, I spent only forty pesos at an upscale cafe in Greenbelt mall to
wait out a cloudburst. I used the café‘s Wi-Fi for hours, while servers impatiently thrust
menus at more-melanined customers who had dared sit for too long.

I wandered onto a fenced-in, exclusive university campus for the sole reason
that it was a nice walk, and I wanted to be there. The guard smiled and tipped his hat
to me. He did not require me to sign his security book.

In a live, crowded theater, I crossed a restricted area to use the much less
crowded staff restroom. Four guards said nothing.

As I slowly learned my motherland‘s arithmetic of identity—repeated in

countries once brutalized by white rulers around the world—I realized what members
of the service sector assumed of me: English speaker + pale face + black hair = A
foreigner. Or a mestiza. She looks like the rulers—Spanish, or American. She and her
family must have some authority—perhaps political authority. She merits extra
courtesy.
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As I spent more time in the Philippines in the late 2000s, developing my
understanding of the society my mother left in 1979, I tried to reconcile what I saw
with the reality I came from. My mother was the second-to-youngest child of seven.
The last home she shared with her family was a small apartment that flooded
regularly. She was a scholar at Ateneo de Manila University, always explained to me
as the Harvard of the Philippines. Her classmates‘ easy, entitled affluence depressed
her. We lived in a wealthy California suburb because my mother was always
conscious of the necessity to perform wealth. And we ate bread from the
Wonderbread surplus store. We never, ever threw away expired meat.

But the education my parents guaranteed me, in a wealthier country that once
controlled the Philippines garnered me grants and scholarships—advantages of travel
that few middle-to-lower-class scholars in the Philippines will ever see.

My favorite karinderya serves scrambled eggs and rice for twenty pesos. My
presence amuses and annoys the guards and drivers who were never granted
scholarships to study like me in my birth country. As my Tagalog improved, I began to
understand their objections. Didn‘t I have a more sosyal place to eat as a foreigner?
What was I playing at, treading into their space?

I occasionally see my relatives in Tandang Sora, a long but narrow street with
many working-class neighborhoods. My cousins often think about strategies to
become Overseas Filipino Workers. It isn‘t their first choice to leave. But they have no
other escape from the criminally small wages given them. Last summer they were
developing their own small karinderya.

I always consider their position against mine. It is an uneasy comparison. Had

my mother not been a scholar—had her own, elder sister not married an American,
and petitioned for her to join them in California—had my mother not found my father,
a U.S. Naval officer who made her laugh—I too might be starting a karinderya, finding
strategies to go abroad.

Whenever I visit Tandang Sora, I always bring dessert—a box of donuts, or a

bag of cookies, or ice cream. My cousins always feed me: sopas, afritada, fried
chicken, tilapia stuffed with garlic and tomatoes, which they know to be my favorite.
They joke about my Italian side when spaghetti is on the table. They feed me well.

Of course, none of the economic struggles that once haunted my family

approach the reality of the kalesa driver, who winces when he tells me about his
wages, as he plies the avenues of Malate. He is allowed to take home only twenty
pesos of each 100-peso ride. The rest he owes to the owner of his kalesa. It‘s
perfectly legal. He does not say the rest, but I can perceive it: he can go to no one for
fair wages.

Or my cab driver who dozes off at a stoplight—who apologizes when I nudge

him—since it‘s the twenty-third hour of his twenty-four-hour shift. How often will he
get the chance to sheepishly say, ―Extra charge, ma‘am,‖ for a cross-Quezon City
ride?

Or the server who looks at me in terror when we realize she brought the wrong
order. Who will stop her boss from automatically deducting the two hundred pesos
from her own small paycheck? Who can she look to, besides me, and the narrative of
wealth my pale face projects, to momentarily assist her with a generous tip?

When I find shrewd charges added to my bills, I argue as briefly as my

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get cheated too as Filipinas.
In the end I call the overcharges my ―dayuhan tax.‖ My foreigner tariff. The
extra cost I owe for the postcolonial privileges of my face. As long as the population
remains economically stranded, I suspect my American whiteness continues to be a
kind of cheating in the modern Philippines.

Besides the dayuhan tax I joke about, there are other subtler, more personal
taxes intrinsic to my pallid appearance. No one in the Philippines will ever
immediately believe I am Filipina, no matter how strongly and how affectionately I
choose the country. My Tagalog will take years to reach everyday, pun-level
proficiency. My mother chose not to teach me and my two younger brothers Tagalog,
for fear that our Italian American father would feel excluded. My brothers feel no
connection at all to her home country. I alone return regularly.
 Sometimes, expats of Western countries who hear my California accent and
see my pale face assume they‘ve found a friendly audience for their Philippines
frustrations. I‘ll hear their complaints coming—Corruption! Traffic! Terrible customer
service!—and I will say, stiffly, ―My mother was from here.‖ Sometimes it gives the
expats pause. Sometimes it doesn‘t.

I do not know when I will deserve to say, ―I am from here.‖ My language

difficulties and my face still prevent me access to that statement. But I often hear that
I am lucky. I may not belong to a ruling family, but I look and sound like I do.

On some days I don‘t know what to do with all this, when I leave the room I
rent in Quezon City. On some weekends I grow so tired and confused, I don‘t leave. I
stay in and watch the subtitles on the local music video channel, Myx, to try and gain
a little more Tagalog. I harbor dreams of using my white mestiza privilege to become
a VJ, until I hear how fast and natural the VJs‘ Tagalog is.

I catch a commercial for a whitening soap. I see a soap opera ad with an

actress in the indigenous equivalent of blackface. I watch a cell phone commercial
pandering to the longings of Overseas Filipino Workers. None of it is terribly
surprising. All of it makes a certain kind of sense.

I turn the television off.

One night, a new friend invites me to a party in Forbes Park. I know the
neighborhood‘s name as code, the way I know certain last names as code: upper-est
class, highest security, a servant for each family member, etc.

A private gate guards the house. It reminds me of the palatial, forbidding,

buttery mansions I used to pass on drives through Malibu in Southern California with
an ex-girlfriend who knew where celebrities lived. The young man hosting the party

here in Forbes Park is connected, in a way I don‘t immediately grasp, to a

political family.

Inside the house, a fog machine distorts the regal dark. A DJ‘s bass line
shakes my skeleton. A man dressed like a pirate urges us to drink. Small, oval-
shaped rainbows glow intensely at a slick, temporary bar. Servers call me ―Ma‘am!‖
and gesture toward the rainbows. I realize they‘re drinks. I pick one up. It illuminates
my hand. My rainbow shot is very, very sweet.

Outside, serious-faced cooks grill hamburgers. I grew up knowing never to

spurn free food, so I stand in line for one. I watch more and more young Manileños
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arrive. They are, I realize, all part of the ruling classes somehow, or they have
befriended members of the ruling classes. Many of them—though not all—are as
white as I am, or more white.

I see a mechanical bull.

―What?‖ a Filipina friend mocks me later, when I describe the bull and the
bass line and the sweet rainbow and the Malibu-celebrity-style house and the free
burger that was really very delicious. ―Were you just judging it the whole time?‖
 I flinch. But I fail to explain to her that the same thought occurred to me at the
party, too.

Why, I argued to myself, should I judge this? Why should I worry about my
complicity in racial hierarchies and class hierarchies and family entrenchments that
were constructed long before I ever arrived in my motherland? Why not imagine, for
just one night, that I am part of a powerful family? Why not just laugh?

So I drink another rainbow. I get photographed. I exchange business cards. I

memorize new names. I watch the whipping hair of socialites who ride the now-
bucking bull. In the small hours of the night, I feel glad I am able to enjoy myself.

When I finally exit the gate, I am surprised to find another, more muted party—
party in the most utilitarian sense of the word. These are the drivers and bodyguards,
waiting for the members of the Philippine elite inside. They smoke and murmur to
each other and check their cell phones. Their own families are waiting for them at
homes far from Forbes Park.

I have no easy explanation for my feelings about this moment. The workers
would not welcome, and do not deserve, my pity. But as I move mere footsteps from
the company of the sovereigns to the company of their servants, I feel the uncertainty
and shame that blur so often in me here. In the Philippines, I can get past the gate.

For a chance at the social mobility I perform effortlessly, many Filipinos,

waiting forever, unprotected, outside barred mansions, will leave. They will hope for
work in a place—Europe, or my birth country—that helped create and enforce the
intractable inequity forcing their displacement today.

When I cease imagining the difference of those lives—when I choose

dismissal over compassion and self-examination and criticism, to make my own path
in the country feel less unnatural than it is—

How do I make space in myself for everyone on both sides of the gate?
Protected and unprotected? I don‘t know.

I have a troubled relationship with umbrellas. They are daily necessities in

Manila, where the weather can alter by the hour with the intensity of an erratic god.
But I always lose umbrellas. Or I break them. It always surprises me when umbrellas
break. I never expect them to be as fragile as they are.

Once, when the wind blew the trees horizontal in the business district of
Ortigas, I paused in the lobby of an office tower, drenched. More and more
passersby, each of their umbrellas brutalized and useless, joined me. The guards let
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whip and taxis forge defiantly forward and rain slash into the streets‘ now-surging
floodwaters. We were all, for a brief moment, equally halted, equally soaked.

Then one guard noticed me.

 ―Taxi, ma‘am?‖ he asked. ―Taxi?‖

He smiled, offering to go out into the rain for me. I smiled back, and told him
no.

Source: The Manila Review

Read the following sentences from the essay Under My Invisible Umbrella again.
Determine the meaning of the underlined word/s using the context of the sentence and
the essay. Encircle the letter of the correct answer.
1. As if I knew he would head into the downpour, open his umbrella, hold the
tenuous shelter of it over my head, and walk at my pace, getting wet himself.

a. delicate c. reliable
b. large d. strong
2. But they were brown, and they were damp. I was pale, and I was
dry.
a. dark c. light
b. dry d. moist

3. In America, my face had been merely diverting, a prompt for racial guessing

games that always made me shudder.

a. shiver c. stay b. sigh d. stop
4. When I find shrewd charges added to my bills, I argue as briefly as my Tagalog

in-progress will allow. My Filipino friends say I should argue for the principle of
it. a. careless c. foolish b. clever d. stupid
5. In the end, I call the overcharges my ―dayuhan tax.‖

a. the extra charges one has to pay c. the extra charges one has to pay
for being a foreigner in a country for being a too white in a country b. the extra
charges one has to pay d. the extra charges one has to pay for borrowing
something from a for not being welcomed in a foreign
country country

6. Sometimes, expats of Western countries who hear my California accent and see
my pale face assume they‘ve found a friendly audience for their Philippines
frustrations.

a. indigenous c. native

b. local d. non-native

7. I harbor dreams of using my white mestiza privilege to become a VJ until I hear

how fast and natural the VJs‘ Tagalog is.

a. a woman of mixed talents and c. a woman of mixed racial or ethnic

abilities ancestry

b. a woman of mixed wants and d. a woman of mixed gender needs

preferences

8. When I finally exit the gate, I am surprised to find another, more muted party—
 party in the most utilitarian sense of the word.

a. attractive c. interesting b. fancy d. plain

9. For a chance at the social mobility, I perform effortlessly, many Filipinos, waiting
forever, unprotected, outside barred mansions, will leave.

a. movement of people through a c. movement of people through a

system of cultural scale system of traditional scale b. movement of people
through a d. movement of people through a
system of social scale system of the academic scale 10.They will hope for

work in a place—Europe or my birth country—that helped create and enforce

the intractable inequity forcing their displacement today. a. compliant c.

manageable b. difficult d. reasonable

Activity 3: Using the context of the essay Under My Invisible Umbrella by Laurel Flores
Fantauzzo, accomplish the table below.

Laurel Flores Fantauzzo is a Filipino-Italian-American. When she visited the

Philippines in the early 2000s, she noticed some things that native Filipinos did only to
her because she had fair skin and some things that she felt she could not do because of
the way she looked. In the table below, list down the advantages and the disadvantages
Laura had because of her mestiza look.

ADVANTAGES DISADVANTAGES

1. Filipinos were warm- hearted to her than to 1. When she is eating at karenderyas, some Filipinos
others. Filipino’s was offered an umbrella to her got irritated to her.
while there was an outpour.
Activity 4: In the essay, the privileges Filipinos give to foreigners are explicitly
described. Now, it is your turn to share your thoughts on this matter. Answer
the question: Why do you think Filipinos give foreigners “special
treatment”? Give at least three (3) reasons. You may draw inspiration from
the essay by Laurel Flores Fantauzzo, but make sure to explain using your
own, personal insights/experiences.

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Writing Rubric

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1234
Criteria Does Not Fully
Does Not Meet Meets Exceeds
Meet
Writing is limited Writing does not Writing is
confident and
in communicating clearly Writes related, knowledge. communicate quality
clearly focused. It
CONTENT/IDEAS holds the reader‘s Length is not knowledge. The paragraphs, with
attention.
adequate for reader is left with little or no details.
 Relevant details
development. questions. enrich writing.
Writing is brief Writing is Writing includes a and confused and Uses correct
strong, beginning,
ORGANIZATION underdeveloped loosely organized. writing format. middle, and end with very
weak Transitions are Incorporates a with clear
transitions and weak and closure coherent closure. transitions and a
closure. is ineffective. focused closure.
Shows some use Uses a variety of Effective and
VOCABULARY/ Language is trite, word choice to WORD CHOICE vague or flat. of varied word
make writing engaging use of choice. word choice.
interesting.
Writer‘s voice/ Writer uses Writes with a
Writer‘s voice/ voice/point of distinct, unique
point of view
point of view view. Writes with voice/point of shows little sense
VOICE shows that sense of
the understanding view. Writing is
audience is of audience. of a specific skillfully adapted
vague.
audience. to the audience.
fragments. Little fragments.
Many run-ons or Some run-ons or Uses simple Consistent variety
variety in Limited variety in
SENTENCE compound, and of sentence FLUENCY complex,
sentence sentence
structure sentences. throughout.
structure. structure.
Inconsistent Occasional errors Maintains Uses consistent
agreement agreement agreement
between parts of
between parts of between parts of between parts of speech. Many speech. Some speech. Few
errors in mechanics. Some
speech. No errors CONVENTIONS errors in errors in in mechanics.
mechanics. mechanics. Creative and
evidence of
Limited evidence Applies basic effective use of spelling
of spelling grade level spelling
strategies.
strategies. spelling. strategies.

Adapted from: National Council of Teachers of Teachers (NCTE) 2004

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21 Century Literature from the Philippines and the World
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First Quarter: Week 3

Name: _________________________ Section: Grade Level: ________________ Date:

________________________ ______________________

LEARNING ACTIVITY SHEET

Lesson 2: Types of Context

Background Information:

You have previously learned that in order to fully grasp a text‘s meaning, one has
to understand its context. Context is information that surrounds a text may it be social,
linguistic, political, etc. There are many types of context in literature, but the most
common ones are:
 Author‘s Context vs. Reader‘s Context

o The author‘s situation while writing the text may be different or similar to
the reader‘s situation while reading the text. This depends on their social
and cultural backgrounds. This must always be considered by the reader
to have an in-depth understanding of the author‘s aim in the text.
Social Context
o This refers to the way in which the society impacts on the text‘s meaning.

There are two aspects to social context: 1) the kind of society in which the
characters live; and, 2) the one in which the author‘s text was produced.
Historical Context

o A text‘s historical context is connected with its social context because

underlying conventions are historically specific. Historical context is
important to note especially when a text was written in the distant past and
huge amounts of changes have occurred ever since.
Cultural Context

o Culture refers to a particular ‗way of life‘, involving religion, race, and

nationality, as well as things like food, dress code, and manners.
Moreover, it relates to art, music, writing, and literature. Cultural context,
also linked with social and historical contexts, is paramount to note if the
text is trying to make a commentary on an aspect of a certain culture.

Learning Competency with Code:

Discuss how different contexts enhance the text‘s meaning and enrich the
reader‘s understanding.
Activity 5: The following is a poem written by Gemino Abad entitled Toys. Read it, and
afterwards, do the tasks that will test how much of the poem‘s context you
understand.
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Gemino Henson Abad is a poet and critic from Cebu, Philippines. His family
moved to Manila when his father, Antonio Abad, was offered professorships at Far
Eastern University and the University of the Philippines.
At present, he is a University Professor Emeritus at the University of the
Philippines.

He was inspired by his twin boys, Diego and David, in writing the following poem.
 Toys

Now our boys have such toys Something‘s amiss, or toys perhaps have
changed their meaning.
as my brother and I never dreamed; Did the
same spirit stir our In the overflood of their kind, they‘ve lost their
make-believe? round of seasons.
It may be the same with the
Yet outdoor was where we took its world‘s weather, but in our time, there
measure.
was one season for kites
But how could I wish it were otherwise for them,
and would it be wise when the wind seemed to make the sky
rounder;
since other kids inhabit the same quarry where X-men
wage their fantastic wars? There was another, for marbles and
rubber bands,
Indeed we knew the hot spill of blood, with
slingshots searched the bushes and trees, the earth firmer, the blaze of
sunshine brighter;
but also knew ourselves pierced where the
world‘s songs first were made. and yet another, for tops and wheels, as
streetwise we vied for dusty prizes.
But those video games, those
robots, armaments of glory, sirens of terror, And when the rains came,
must root their eyes in our politics and
scavenge for hope in the world‘s rubble. and the skies fell with the
thunderclap, how we would run in O, their heroes create them,
drenched nakedness
but if they could invent their games and stage
to dare a lightning race to the edge of time. their future, might they not surprise the hero
with their fate?
But how shall I travel to my boys‘ heart and
break their dreadnought of heroes, and find, as Source: PoemHunter.com
when light breaks, the pieces of their manhood
whole?

Break down the poem‘s context by completing the diagram below. List down all
the lines that pertain to the author’s (poet) context in the corresponding circle, then,
list
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down all the lines that explain his children‘s context in its corresponding circle. Lastly,
write your own experiences about your childhood toys in the corresponding circle.

Author‘s Context His Children‘s My Own Context Context

Activity 6: Using the poem‘s context, answer the following questions. Use the space
provided for your answer.

1. How different were Gemino‘s childhood toys from his sons‘? Cite lines from the
poem to prove your answer.

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 2. How did these toys influence his son‘s lives?
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3. How did Gemino feel about this difference?

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4. As a reader, with whom can you relate more? With Gemino or with his kids?
Explain your answer.
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Activity 7: Read the short story below, and accomplish the activities that follow.

Jose Claudio B. Guerrero, also known as Butch Guerrero, taught English and
Creative Writing at the University of the Philippines, Diliman. He was a fellow at the UP
National Writers Workshop in Baguio City in 1997. He co-wrote Ilocos Norte Travel
Guidebook, which won the 2004 National Book Award for Travel. His essay, Talking to a
Fu Dog on a Wedding Afternoon, won First Prize in the 2008 Don Carlos Palanca
Memorial Awards for Literature. He wrote sudden fiction, short stories, and essays. He
passed away in December 2013.

Essence

WE had just finished lunch in a small café along Katipunan Road. Two cups of
steamy brew enveloped our table in a delicious aroma.

―So where did you meet?‖ I asked my friend Patrick as he put down his coffee
cup.

―In the Faculty Center in UP.‖

―Again? How come you meet a lot of guys there? I‘m always there and nothing
ever happens.‖
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Patrick pointed to his face and smiled.

―Che!‖ I replied laughing. But I knew that it was true. Patrick was not really that
good looking, but he had this sexy air about him. And he had fair skin which is, for most
Filipinos, a prerequisite for beauty. I looked at the mirror behind him and saw my dark,
emaciated reflection.

―So anyway, I was washing my face in the ground floor washroom when in
comes this really cute guy. I‘ve seen him on campus a few times before. So anyway, he
goes and takes a leak,‖ Patrick paused. ―You know those FC urinals, right?‖

I nodded. ―No partitions.‖

Patrick took another sip from his cup and continued. ―So anyway, this guy sees
me checking him out. To my surprise, he turns to me, giving me full view of him in all his
glory and smiles. I smile back. And,‖ Patrick took a deep breath, ―the rest is for me
alone to know.‖ He ended by dabbing the sides of his napkin to his mouth.

I knew pressing Patrick for more details would shut him up just like that so I let it
pass. I could wheedle out all the details later. ―So what‘s his name?‖

―Carlo.‖
 I raised an eyebrow and gave Patrick my you‘ve-got-to-be-kidding look. He
laughed and nodded in agreement.

―Yes it‘s another Carlo. It‘s always Carlo, or Paolo, or Mike, or Jay–‖

―So what name did you use?‖ I asked, cutting him short.

―My favorite, Paolo.‖ We both laughed. ―Enough of me. Tell me about

yourself. It‘s been what, a month since we‘ve talked?‖

―More like three weeks,‖ I answered as I motioned to a waiter for the cake menu.

―Oh no. You‘re ordering cake.‖

―Why?‖

―You order cake when you‘re depressed.‖

―No I don‘t. And anyway, I‘m not depressed this time.‖ The waiter arrived with
the cake menu. After giving our orders, Patrick continued pressing me for news.
16

―I told you, I lead a boring life.‖

―I‘m sure,‖ answered Patrick mischievously. ―So how‘s your Chinese
boyfriend?‖

Patrick‘s question caught me off-guard as I sipped from my cup. I snorted and felt
coffee go up my nose. We both started laughing. ―He‘s not Chinese,‖ I answered when
I had recovered. ―He‘s Korean. And he‘s not my boyfriend, excuse me. I‘m his tutor.‖

―I‘m sure,‖ said Patrick needling me. ―And what are you tutoring him in?‖

―English.‖

―I‘m sure. Oh good, here‘s the cake.‖

As I dug my fork into my cake‘s rich cream cheese, I happened to look at the
mirror and saw the café doors open. A dumpy, fair-skinned guy walked in. ―Oh my
God.‖ I froze.

Patrick saw the expression on my face and looked around for what caused it.
Finding it, he said, ―Don‘t tell me you‘re still crazy over Mark.‖

―No I‘m not. It‘s just that, well…‖

―Well what?‖ asked Patrick, his eyes suddenly alive with curiosity.

―It‘s…you know,‖ I answered. My eyes told him the rest.

―No,‖ he answered not wanting to believe it.

I smiled.

―When?‖

―Two weeks ago.‖

―Why didn‘t you tell me sooner?‖

 ―You‘re always busy.‖

―Well I‘m not busy anymore. Tell me everything.‖ Patrick leaned over to me
forgetting all about his cake. ―It‘s not everyday your best friend loses his virginity.‖
17

―It happened two weeks ago. Our teacher dismissed us early so I was walking
in the AS parking lot looking for my driver. It was already dark and only a few cars were
left. Well, one of the cars was his. He smiled at me and asked me what time it was,‖ I
paused and took a bite from my cake.

―And?‖
―And what happened next is for me alone to know.‖ I replied mimicking him.
―Don‘t do this to me. Tell me. I have to know. I won‘t be able to sleep,‖ Patrick
begged. Noticing his unused fork, he grabbed it. ―Tell me or I‘ll stab you with this.‖ Just
then Mark passed so he hurriedly lowered his fork. ―He looks conscious. Maybe he
suspects you‘ve told me.‖
 I just smiled.

―I know some guys who are like that. Once something has happened between
you, they suddenly feel awkward when you‘re around. Eventually you end up avoiding
each other.‖ Patrick studied his cake for a while then started eating. After some time he
spoke up. ―I‘m so happy for you,‖ he said smiling as he grabbed my hand and shook it
warmly. ―I remember all those times we sat here eating cake and talking about your to-
die-for classmate Mark. Mark and his cologne, Mark and his new cologne, Mark and his
crew cut, Mark and his burnt-out cigarette butt.‖ He considered for a moment and then
said, ―Boy, am I glad those days are over.‖ He laughed. I smiled.

―Is it really true that you took puffs from his cigarette butt?‖

My ears went red and I nodded. ―Whatever he touches, he leaves an essence.

When I take a puff from his cigarette butt, our essences meld. We become one,‖ I
hastened to explain. ―It‘s like we‘ve shared something. Like a bond.‖

Patrick gave me a pitying look. ―At least you don‘t have to do that anymore.‖ I

smiled and mashed the blueberries on my plate.

We finished our cakes as we updated each other with what has happened to our
high school barkada. As we waited for our change, Mark stood up to leave and finally
noticed us. He smiled and went out. Patrick pinched me as I smiled back, my ears
burning.

PATRICK dropped me off at the Faculty Center after lunch and rushed to the
theater for rehearsal. Having thirty minutes to waste before my next class, I decided to
go to the FC washroom and tidy up.
18

The faint scent of detergent, cigarette smoke, and stale urine greeted me as I
opened the door. As I expected, the washroom was deserted. I stood in front of the
mirror and took out tissue from my bag. As I dabbed moistened tissue on my face, the
washroom door opened and a woody cologne scent wafted in.

It was Mark. He went straight to the urinals. I pretended not to notice him. When he finished
peeing, he joined me by the mirror, washed his hands, and then straightened his shirt collar.
As he looked at his reflection, he saw me watching him and smiled, ―It‘s you again.‖ I
smiled back and offered him a tissue. He declined and left.

When the door closed, I hurried to the urinal. I unbuttoned my fly and peed. I
looked down and watched my pale yellow fluid join his, a bit darker and frothy against
the white porcelain. As I watched the fluids mix, their colors getting more and more
difficult to distinguish until finally no difference could be seen, a warm pleasurable
sensation from within me slowly surged, growing more and more powerful, until finally
shudders of ecstasy racked my still untouched body.

Source: sushidog.com

Answer the question in each cloud. Write your answer inside the shape.

What kind of society did the two friends

live in?

Is it similar or different from the society

What were the similarities and differences of Patrick
you live in?
and the narrator in the story?

Explain your answer.

How did the narrator in the

story find satisfaction in love?
 Activity 7: Read the short story below, and accomplish the activities that follow.

Jose Claudio B. Guerrero, also known as Butch Guerrero, taught English and
Creative Writing at the University of the Philippines, Diliman. He was a fellow at the UP
National Writers Workshop in Baguio City in 1997. He co-wrote Ilocos Norte Travel
Guidebook, which won the 2004 National Book Award for Travel. His essay, Talking to a
Fu Dog on a Wedding Afternoon, won First Prize in the 2008 Don Carlos Palanca
Memorial Awards for Literature. He wrote sudden fiction, short stories, and essays. He
passed away in December 2013.

1. What kind of society did the two friends live in? is it similar or different from the society you live in?
Explain your answer

They are both lived in a society that is homosexuality is accepted.

2. What were the similarities and differences of Patrick and the narrator in the story?

The differences between them, Patrick was more physical attractive than the narrator. Also, Patrick
was better in talking about his relationships than the narrator. While the similarities are, they both gays and
they both comfortable talking to each other.

3. How did the narrator in the story find satisfaction in love?

The narrator found satisfaction in love by knowing the essences of his lover used such as cologne,
his hair, and many more.
ESSENCE by Jose Claudio
B. Guerrero
19

Activity 8: Answer the following questions about Essence by Jose Claudio B.

Guerrero. Write your answers on the space provided.

1. What type of context can be used to best describe the short story‘s theme? Why?
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________

2. What is the significance of the last paragraph of the story to its overall meaning?
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________

3. Why is the story entitled Essence?

________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________

Reflection:

What is the importance of understanding a text‘s context?

________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________
Writing Rubric

1234
Criteria Does Not Fully
Does Not Meet Meets Exceeds
Meet
Writing is limited Writing does not Writing is
confident and
in communicating clearly Writes related, knowledge. communicate quality
clearly focused. It
CONTENT/IDEAS holds the reader‘s Length is not knowledge. The paragraphs, with
attention.
adequate for reader is left with little or no details.
Relevant details
development. questions. enrich writing.
Writing is brief Writing is Writing includes a and confused and Uses correct
strong, beginning,
ORGANIZATION underdeveloped loosely organized. writing format. middle, and end with very
weak Transitions are Incorporates a with clear
transitions and weak and closure coherent closure. transitions and a
closure. is ineffective. focused closure.
Shows some use Uses a variety of Effective and
of varied word
VOCABULARY/ Language is trite, word choice to WORD CHOICE vague or flat.
engaging use of
make writing choice. word choice.
interesting.
Writer‘s voice/ Writer uses Writes with a
Writer‘s voice/ voice/point of distinct, unique point of view
point of view view. Writes with voice/point of
VOICE shows that sense shows little sense of
audience is the understanding view. Writing is of audience. of a specific skillfully adapted
vague.
audience. to the audience.
fragments. Little fragments.
Many run-ons or Some run-ons or Uses simple Consistent variety
variety in Limited variety in
SENTENCE compound, and of sentence FLUENCY complex,
sentence sentence
structure sentences. throughout.
structure. structure.
Inconsistent Occasional errors Maintains Uses consistent
agreement agreement agreement
between parts of
speech. Some
between parts of between parts of between parts of speech. Many speech. Few
errors in mechanics. Some
speech. No errors CONVENTIONS errors in errors in in mechanics.
mechanics. mechanics. Creative and
evidence of
Limited evidence Applies basic effective use of spelling
of spelling grade level spelling
strategies.
strategies. spelling. strategies.

Adapted from: National Council of Teachers of Teachers (NCTE) 2004

21

Prepared:
GELLIE MAE Q. PEREZ
SHS-Teacher II
ACNHS
Answer Key

Activity 1:
1. Josephine‘s name was repeated in the first line of the poem to show emphasis
on Rizal‘s adoration towards her.
th
2. The line that proves this is the 8 line (last line). It goes, ―A heart for you beats
high.‖

3. In the lines, ―Don‘t forget that on these shores,/ A heart for you beats high,‖ he
pertained to the Philippines. It is so because he was exiled in Dapitan and that
was where he was writing from.

4. Rizal thought that Josephine‘s fate might take her elsewhere like Japan, China,

Shanghai because Josephine was not originally from the Philippines. And since
his fate was a mystery then, Josephine might leave the country once he died.

Activity 2:
1. a 6. d

2. d 7. c
3. a 8. d
4. b 9. b
5. a 10.
b

Activity 3:

ADVANTAGES
1. Filipinos were generally nicer to her than to other people, especially Filipinos.
She was offered an umbrella every time there was an outpour.

2. She spent only 40 pesos at an upscale café in Greenbelt mall to wait out rain,
used the café‘s WIFI for hours, while servers grew impatient at Filipino customers
who did the same.

3. Once, she walked onto a fenced-in, exclusive university campus for a nice walk.
The guard only smiled and tipped his hat to her. He did not even require her to
sign the security book.
4. In a live, crowded theater, she crossed a restricted area to use the staff restroom.
Four guards said nothing.

DISADVANTAGES
1. Filipinos got annoyed at her for eating at karinderyas, thinking that she was
stepping into their space.
2. She was given the ―dayuhan tax.‖
22

3. She could not say that she was from the Philippines, even though she was half
Filipina.
4. She could not hang out with the working-class Filipinos who were more chill
 because they would find it weird and offensive if she did.
Activity 4:

*** Answers may vary.

Activity 5:

AUTHOR’S CONTEXT
Line 4 – Yet outdoor was where we took its measure.

Lines 9 & 10 – Indeed we knew the hot spill of blood,/ with slingshots searched
the bushes and trees,

Lines 21-24 – It may be the same with the world‘s/ weather, but in our time,/
there was one season for kites/ when the wind seemed to make the sky rounder;

Lines 25-28 – There was another, for marbles and rubber bands,/ the earth
firmer, the blaze of sunshine brighter;/ and yet another, for tops and wheels,/ as
streetwise we vied for dusty prizes.

Lines 29-32 – And when the rains came,/ and the skies fell with the thunderclap,/
how we would run in drenched nakedness/ to dare a lightning race to the edge of
time.

HIS CHILDREN’S CONTEXT

Lines 7 & 8 – since other kids inhabit the same quarry/ where X-men wage their
fantastic wars?

Lines 13 & 14 – But those video games, those robots,/ armaments of

glory, sirens of terror

Lines 17-20 – Something‘s amiss, or toys perhaps/ have changed their

meaning./ In the overflood of their kind,/ they‘ve lost their round of seasons.

MY OWN CONTEXT
*** Answers may vary.

Activity 6:
1. Gemino‘s childhood toys were very different from his boys‘ toys. While his boys
played with video games and robots that reflected danger and terror, he and his
brother found playing outside fun. Some lines that prove this idea are: o Line 4 –
Yet outdoor was where we took its measure.

o Lines 21-24 – It may be the same with the world‘s/ weather, but in our
time,/ there was one season for kites/ when the wind seemed to make
the sky rounder;
23

o But those video games, those robots,/ armaments of glory, sirens of

 terror

2. These toys have lost his kids‘ sense of seasons. Day or night, rain or shine, they
would just play robots and video games.

3. At first, Gemino felt sad about this difference. He wished that his boys would also
experience the same things he and his brother had experienced. However, at the
end, he realized that these toys might complete his boys‘ development and
manhood, and even wished that in the future, his sons‘ fate might surpass those
of their heroes‘.
4. ***Answers may vary.

Activity 7:
What kind of society did the two friends live in? is it similar or different from the
society you live in? Explain your answer.

o The narrator and Patrick lived in a society where homosexuality was

generally accepted since there was no hint of them being uncomfortable
talking about it even in public. ***Answers may vary.

What were the similarities and differences of Patrick and the narrator in the
story?

o Patrick and the story narrator were both gays. They were both comfortable
talking about this. On the other side, Patrick was more physically attractive
than the narrator. Also, he seemed to be more at ease talking about his
relationships than the narrator.

How did the narrator in the story find satisfaction in love?

o The unnamed narrator found satisfaction in love by getting the essences of

anything his lover had used like his cologne, his hair, his burnt-out
cigarette butt.

Activity 8:
1. The best type of context to use to fully understand the short story is social context.
This is because it shows the kind of society in which the characters Patrick and
the narrator lived in. It showed that the society was more open to people‘s gender
orientation, and that being in a relationship with the same-sex is but normal and
not something that people must be ashamed of.
2. The short story‘s last paragraph when the narrator hurried to the urinal,
unbuttoned his fly and peed, and looked at how his darker and frothy urine mixed
with Mark‘s white porcelain pee, and how this gave his still untouched body a
warm, pleasurable sensation means that he lied to his friend Patrick when he
played to mean that he and Mark had already made love. It also shows that this
mere melding of their essences was enough for him to satisfy his worldly
pleasure.
24

3. The story is entitled Essence because aside from the fact that the narrator found
pleasure from his lover‘s things‘ essences, the narrator found the essence of
 happiness from knowing his and his lover‘s essences are one.

References

(2013). Cruising | Center for Art and

Thought.
https://centerforartandthought.org/work/contributor/laurel-fantauzzo#:~:text=Laurel
%20Fantauzzo%20is%20a%20writer%20and%20a%20
teacher.&text=Laurel%20Fantauzzo%20was%20born%20in,at%20Ateneo%20d e
%20Manila%20University

Essence by Jose Claudio B. Guerrero. (2019, November 14). The Best Philippine
Short Stories Main Page. Retrieved August 23, 2020,

from https://www.sushidog.com/bpss/stories/essence.htm

Gemino Abad - Gemino Abad biography - Poem hunter. (n.d.).

PoemHunter.com: Poems - Quotes - Poetry. Retrieved August 23, 2020,

from https://www.poemhunter.com/gemino-abad/biography/

Guerrero, Jose Claudio B. (2019, December 23). panitikan.ph. Retrieved August

23, 2020, from https://panitikan.ph/2014/06/06/jose-claudio-b-guerrero/

Gémino H. Abad. (2020). Goodreads | Meet your next favorite

book. https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3370759.G_mino_H_Abad

Issues » the Manila review. (2005). Home » The Manila

Review. https://themanilareview.com/issues/view/under-my-invisible-umbrella

Lihong, Shen. (2012, December). Context and text. Page Not Found | Semantic
Scholar. Retrieved August 22, 2020,

from https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/299f/7df39b03c466fd19527a3445ed37ef3
42396.pdf
National Council of Teachers of English. 2004. ―Writing Rubric, Read.Think.Write.‖
2004. https://www.ramapo.edu/fa/files/2013/04/Writing-Rubric-3.pdf.
25

To Josephine. (2019, February 4). JoseRizal.com. Retrieved August

22, 2020, from https://www.joserizal.com/to-josephine/

Toys. (2012, May 14). PoemHunter.com. Retrieved August 23,

2020, from https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/toys-14/
Twomey, Elly. (2020, May 30). The importance of context in literature. Lisa's VCE
Study Guides. Retrieved August 22, 2020,

from
https://www.vcestudyguides.com/blog/the-importance-of-context-in-litera
ture

Writing Coach. (2018, November 12). Context, text, and subtext: What they are and
how they help storytelling ~ Writers helping writers®. WRITERS HELPING
WRITERS®. Retrieved August 22, 2020,

from
https://writershelpingwriters.net/2018/11/context-text-and-subtext-what-they
are-and-how-they-help-storytelling/