*verdad

Perez, Jethro C.
2009-57080


Who am I? I want to be a published writer. I want to be a photographer. I want to be a painter. I want to be a theater actor. I want to be a singer. I want to be a precision gun shooter. I want to be a news anchor. I want to be the perfect guy for the one I love.

If our hopes and dreams were to be the criteria of defining and ascertaining who we really are, I could have been multi-personified by now. Much to my dismay, the latter statement is nothing but just another burning dream, another mighty hope.

Delving into the profundity of self-definition would take deep introspection so I might as well dig into my biological data foremost.

Jethro was the name picked out for me by my father, a gunsmith who got my name from a shop that sells guns, gun parts and hunting goods. He runs a custom gun shop, named OJP Precision Gun Shop, inside the walls of Malacanang Park. His soldier friends and personal friends like to call him Oralsky but his birth name is Oral Robert R. Perez. Personally, however, he likes to be called Kid because that’s what my mom calls him.

My mother, Dreamrose, stays at home to tend to the house and her orchid garden whose flowers still came from my late grandmother.

I am the third and youngest among three siblings. My eldest brother Joeseth Jan, having graduated from the University of the Philippines Diliman, now holds a commendable position in one of the nation’s most respected pharmaceutical companies. Jared Ken, the middle child, is currently a graduating student in the University of Santo Tomas.

The three of us grew up and learned about life in the modest city of Tabaco, just southwest of the Bicol region. Each morning, what greeted us was the perfect cone of Mayon and the bright blue sky that accompanies beneath it, chirping birds. I spent a childhood with genuine simplicity. Instead of expensive toy cars, we pulled behind us little wooden cars knotted with nylon ropes. My brothers and I used to trace tracks in our wide backyard and follow the trails like a maze. I remember making improvised tunnels on our beds using a wide blanket and an electric fan. My brother and I had so much fun going in and out of it just because it amused us.

One time, the three of us made an amateur movie starring my toys. We called our production, the triple ‘J’. I remember how I used to be so amazed that we made a movie with my toys playing our real-life roles. Kuya Jay-Jay, my eldest brother was the director, Kuya Ken was the set designer and I was the producer because I provided the toys. The memory of that day still makes me smile and feel euphoric until now.

As time went by, each brother went off to Manila for college education and the days became a little more vacant.

The question of education has been serious for me from the very beginning. In kindergarten and grade school, I coerced myself to always get high grades and ended up graduating as the valedictorian. In high school however, I seemed to have lost the drive, the enthusiasm. Maybe because, it was the first time I fell in love.

Being only twelve, chubby and expecting nothing from high school which I thought was an empty word that meant nothing than another four years of education, I fell in love. She had long curly locks of hair, and twinkly eyes that no little boy like me could resist. She had the voice of an angel and she smelled of winter, spring, summer and autumn put together. She was as exciting as the first snow crystal to touch the ground, as calm as the waters of spring, as colorful as the flowers of summer and as graceful as the falling leaves of autumn. It felt good to love but when it starts to get complicated, the pain sears as much as the love burns.

But that was not only what happened in high school. This is where I developed my interest in writing, public speaking and the performing arts. I won writing contests and performing arts competitions alongside debate contests. These things are what diverted my attention from academics.

Fortunately still, I was lucky enough to pass the UPCAT and now I am studying BehSci in UPM. Although it is in my plans to transfer to Diliman to fulfill my calling in the field of Broadcast Communications, I would never forget the roller coaster ride I embarked on in UPM.

It is here that I loved again, felt pain again, failed again, won again. And for these experiences, I am grateful as it made me even a little wiser.

Now, who am I really? I never believed that I was special, just that I can do special things. Maybe it is the extension of you that defines who you are. And what you do, what you feel is what extends you, not your favorite Starbucks drink, nor your daily allowance, not even your physical appearance. It is your inner self that makes you, you.

Yes, I do write. I write about what I feel, about love, life and its many nooks and crannies. I love how words entwine like thread in a cloth to form something grand. Yes, I do take pictures. Behind each one is a story, even vanity. I photograph people, the world. Yes, I have painted once and it felt like I was creating life. Yes, I do act onstage. It allows me not to play a superficial role but to momentarily become a person wholly different from who I am. Yes, I had been the radio news anchor for my school. I loved to speak and this I have no reason why. Yes, I pulled a trigger once and the adrenaline that rushes through my veins gives me an empowering feeling.

And yes, I have loved and have been loved. I have fallen out of love and have been left behind. But no, I cannot say that I am perfect because I am simply not. It is my goal, though I am not perfect, to do the perfect things for the one I love.

Lastly, I would like to say that life can never be defined. Everyday is an opportunity to discover something about yourself or even, a chance to totally transform. I would hate to defeat the purpose of this paper but the way ‘I’ think, it is inevitable. Who I am today may not be who I am tomorrow.

In the end all that has been said takes me back to the same question, who am I?

I would like to settle with, dreamer. I am a dreamer.

note: this was my paper for Psych 101 answering the question who am i.