Recently, I interacted with a science class of seniors (mix of science and arts majors) in the University of the Philippines. I gave a series of lectures on "Science and Nature Writing" and conducted a field trip that would equip them with observation skills that would help them appreciate and understand Nature better. They are in their senior year and none of them ever even knew of this beautiful garden in the campus before I took them there. It was a very inspiring experience for me because it recharged my sense of wonder at looking at the world while engaging in this dialogue with young minds. I am grateful to that class and their professor for that chance. The class consists mostly of kids who are 18 or only a year or two older. The overwhelming feedback I got spoke of one common sentiment: they have never had this learning experience before. One said she could not wait to get back to her hometown in the summer so she could look at the mountains in a way that she never did before. Another said she has always thought she was a trifle odd to have a yearning to be alone and contemplate the campus amid the papers, the classes, the "ikots and tokis" until after the garden trip. Another one said she never thought that there were so many ways of perceiving and knowing the world. One even said that never in her life did she imagine spending three hours in a garden and not be bored. It was wonderful to be part of a group that was learning to see the entire world through the shade of a leaf, the bend of a tree trunk, the carve of a stone, in a spot in good old Diliman! Eat your heart out Blake! (The poet Blake wrote, "to see the world in a grain of sand…") I was not responsible for this. All my yacking would have been in vain if they were not open and ready for what lay before them for their senses and imagination. (I wonder what it would be like to have this kind of interaction with adults working in corporations and other organizations. Daunting!)
But thinking of kids in that debut party and in that science class, it also seemed to me that kids now, when they turn 18, have learned amazing capabilities that include: texting 160 characters per minute, receiving direct radio wave signals from the atmosphere to their hair of MYX hits, and tenaciously imbibing the plots of multi-lingual TV drama series. But it also seemed, to me anyway that generally, they do not really mark where they are in their lives when they turn 18 and we adults seem to give them compasses without checking if the needle is working and pointing the direction it should. By "where they are" I mean, how much they have inhabited their minds and their world after 18 years.
I admit I would have been a corny parent because I personally would not agree to the traditional parties 18-year-olds celebrate not just because I cannot make sense of them but also because I personally find the cost and the "show value" flagrant and thoughtless in the context of our poor society. As a writer, I have this rare chance to share with you what I imagine it would be like if the debutante were my child. First, I would like her to list the 18 books or films that touched her the most; next, the 18 living creatures, human or not, that have become meaningful to her and why; and lastly, 18 things that she wishes to experience in life, without necessarily stating or knowing why. We could do this with or without a party. But for those who opt for a party, family and friends will be part of it because they are an intricate part of all those "18 things." The celebrant and guests can still dress up if they want, even do live performances or multimedia presentations of these things to take advantage of the hi-tech times. And there is nothing in this format that prevents them to still dance the night away! And my imaginary kid and I will keep all these 18 mementos in a time capsule. She has the option later in life to recover them to see how the world has changed since she turned 18 when she encapsulated in mementos and words her world at 18 in lists of 18.