I will be conducting a Reading for Care/Bibliotherapy workshop at the Philippine Readers and Writers Festival 2026. This workshop is for parents, teachers, librarians and professionals working with children. We will read children’s books and design engaging activities that foster belonging and empathy building.
Every Story Holds a Hand: Reading for Care and Belonging
5PM - 7PM Prologue Room
National Bookstore, Araneta City
Cubao, Quezon City
While they grappled and fought forces bigger than
themselves, in the spirit world and back in their reality, their romance was
like smoke from an eternal incense, wafting through and about them.
It was there, even when everything else seemed to demand
their attention. Their love didn’t need to be proclaimed. It was in the spaces
between the battles, the conflicts, the choices, the moments when they were
simply there with and for each other. And this is what makes it so delicious.
The romance is not separate from the larger story. It moves
with it. It is simmering in their exchange of glances and looking at each other
a few seconds longer. Nam Joohyuk’s eyes speak volumes: yearning, care, the
need to protect. And Roh Yoonseo takes it all in by staring back fiercely but
with tenderness. How many times did I wish they must kiss already?!
That kind of romance gets me. And on a rewatch, when you
already know where their story is going, you notice the undercurrents even
more.
Delicious. Absolutely delicious.
In the end, as Gucheon and Saeng-gang walk away from the
palace, I was wishing for a second season.
So ARMY Daughter and I decided to make tuna kimbap together.
For her, it is a survival meal on the go. For me, it was a way to remember the
cross-cultural experience having taught by a Pinay guide and invigilator at the
Seaweed museum. It is something I want to share with friends at work.
As we spread the rice across the sheet of seaweed, I
hesitated. I was afraid of putting too much. ARMY Daughter smiled and said,
“Put enough rice on the seaweed. It holds the rest of the
ingredients together.”
I paused. Of course. The seaweed protects. The rice holds
everything together. Without enough rice, the filling falls apart.
As we rolled the kimbap, I couldn’t help thinking about how
rice has always been more than food across Asia. Whether it is served at
breakfast, lunch, dinner, or even dessert, rice gathers families around a
table. It accompanies celebrations and ordinary weekdays alike. It is humble,
familiar, and often unnoticed precisely because it is always there.
ARMY is much the same, when I think about it.
We are wonderfully different. We come from different
countries, generations, professions, and life stories. Some of us found BTS
through Dynamite. Others have been here since No More Dream. We carry different
experiences, different perspectives, and different seasons of life.
Yet something holds us together because we choose, over and
over again, to return to what first brought us here: seven artists whose music
taught us to listen more carefully, love more deeply, and become better people.
Like rice in kimbap, it is often the quiet things that hold a community
together.
Kindness. Respect. Generosity. Patience. Openness. The
willingness to make room for one another.
Sometimes the most ordinary things become the memories we
carry home. Kimbap wasn’t just a quick meal during our trip to Seoul. It
became a reminder that joy often arrives simply and with humility, wrapped in
seaweed and shared with people you love.
“Put enough rice on the seaweed.”
Communities are built the same way. Not by making ourselves
the center of the story, but by becoming what quietly holds everyone else
together.
Apobangpo! Purple and true! 💜
#BTSFESTA2026 #BTSArirang #koreanfood #seoultravel
One of the things I appreciate about working in an IB school is that we are encouraged not only to adopt new technologies, but to ask better questions about them.
This AI Citizenship Framework reminds us that AI learning is
more than mastering prompts or discovering new tools. It is a progression. From
recognizing AI around us, to understanding it, using it critically, creating
with it, and ultimately contributing to society through responsible
stewardship.
I especially like that ethical thinking is not the
destination but the foundation of every stage.
In the library, this reminds me that our role is no longer
simply to teach students how to find information. We also help them question,
evaluate, create, and act responsibly in an AI-enabled world.
Thank you, Zakir Hossain, for developing and sharing this
framework. It offers a valuable language for conversations about AI in schools.
As a children's book writer, I have always believed that
stories can teach children how to be brave, kind, and accountable. Sometimes,
they also heal the adults who write them. Sometimes we write the ending we
wished life had offered, not to erase the past, but to imagine the world as it
could be.
Kahit sa kathang isip, nag-sorry ka sa akin.
Maraming salamat, Lampara Books sa liwanag na handog ay
paghilom.
I have three take aways.
First, Filipino writers no longer write for Filipino
children. We write for children. Period. Good stories cross borders because
childhood itself is universal. It is filled with wonder, questions, fears,
laughter, and hope.
Second, a writer who reads the works of fellow authors and
finds the child within their pages is both humble and wise. Children’s
literature is not a competition; it is a conversation that grows richer when we
read generously and celebrate one another’s stories.
Genaro Ruiz Gojo Cruz
winner of this year’s Salanga Prize for his story, Tinamaan Ako ng Galing, even
recognized this by mentioning writers whose books he read and learned from.
And finally, her curated list of children’s books was, to
me, a reader’s joy and a librarian’s delight. It was a reminder that the best
way to become a better writer is to remain an eager reader.
As I watched this year’s Salanga and Alcala awardees receive
their recognition, I found myself thinking that every story and every
illustration is an act of hope. In a world that often feels fractured,
children’s books continue to imagine kinder futures, nurture empathy, and
remind us that peace and justice are values worth passing on to the next
generation.
Congratulations to all the winners. Thank you for giving
children and all of us stories that help us become more fully human.
Pahina Hinahon!
What stories do we tell children when the world feels
fractured? How do we write hope without ignoring suffering? How do we nurture
empathy without looking away from injustice?
Perhaps this is why children’s literature matters more than
ever. Every story we write, illustrate, publish, recommend, and share becomes
an act of faith in the kind of world we want children to inherit. Stories
remind us that kindness is not weakness, courage often begins with ordinary
people, and even in the darkest moments, compassion can light the way.
Congratulations to this year’s PBBY-Salanga and PBBY-Alcala
awardees. Thank you for continuing the work of imagining better futures for
Filipino children: one story, one illustration, and one young reader at a time.
May we never stop believing that books can help raise a
generation that chooses peace over violence, justice over indifference, and
hope over despair.
The palace sits on top of a hill beside a mountain with the
view of earth and sky. As much as the palace grounds and surrounding efifices
recreate Joseon era Korea, the terrain was perfect for it. I was truly
impressed at how art and culture is being managed and restored. And to think
that we didn’t pay any entrance fee, it was really a treat.
The palace was magnificent. The painted folding screens. The
lattice windows. The long stone courtyards. I walked from throne room to where
Agust D moved between king and rebel. Daechwita kept playing in my mind and I
can’t help but recognize once again this masterpiece of an anthem.
The other night, I started watching East Palace. Within
minutes, I paused. The throne room. The palace doors. The courtyard. It all
looked familiar. The same spaces where Agust D once became a king in Daechwita
had become the royal palace of another story.
It made me smile. Korea has surprised me once again.
#KdramaIsLife #TheEastPalace #BTS_ARIRANG
#BangtanPilgrimage2026 #soueltravel
