The Benildean Star

30/05/2026

𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟲 | KNOW YOUR CANDIDATES 🗳️

Elections are not won by slogans, they are decided by vision, conviction, and accountability.

As the 2026 elections approach on June 4-6, examine where the Benilde Antipolo Student Government (BASG) candidates stand on key school and national issues, and gain deeper insight into the leadership they seek to bring to the Benildean community.

Know their stand. Weigh their principles. Cast your vote with purpose.

DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions of the candidates do not necessarily reflect the views and opinions of The Benildean Star and De La Salle-College of Saint Benilde, Antipolo. All information released is in compliance with the journalism ethics and practices.

🖋️ Ava de Torres, Daffney Nudalo, Kevin Cruz, Krizane Lagrio
🎨 Eulyn Shantelle Asuncion, Elaine Mendoza 

26/05/2026

EID AL-ADHA MUBARAK🌙

As the world marks the Feast of Sacrifice, may the selflessness of this sacred day mirror the best of our capacity to give, to endure, and to support one another through life’s shared journeys.

Living as an inclusive community that proudly embraces diverse backgrounds and beliefs, we stand in heartfelt solidarity with our Muslim brothers and sisters worldwide. May the profound spirit of this feast inspire us to look beyond ourselves and build lasting bridges of absolute faith, selflessness, compassion, and charity wherever we go.

🖋️ Krizane Faye Lagrio
🎨 Iona Ranee De Guzman

25/05/2026

𝗪𝗔𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗣𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗞 | Classes (onsite and online) and work operations (onsite and work-from-home arrangements) are suspended at Benilde Antipolo on May 27, 2026.

This is in pursuance of Proclamation No. 1264 series of 2026, declaring May 27,2026 as a regular holiday throughout the Philippines, in observance of Eid'l Adha (Feast of Sacrifice).

| via Office of the Provost, May 23, 2026, 12:10 p.m.

18/05/2026

THE MUSEUM’S FINEST PIECE 🏛️

Some stories are better told through brushes and paint—like a heartbeat keeping pace with every step, waiting for a companion’s reply, the one masterpiece you just can’t take your eyes off of.

Let’s celebrate International Museum Day with a simple invitation to the ones we want by our side. Because every museum holds history, but the most beautiful memory is simply walking through it with a masterpiece like you.

🖋️Krizane Faye Lagrio
🎨Shantelle Asuncion

16/05/2026

𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐑 | 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

“Bading yan pero…” the backhanded compliment that haunts every gay man just trying to exist. These expectations create a mold: the gay man must be masculine, accomplished, and invisible in his femininity—palatable to the heteronormative palate. Now, the q***r community has been more accepted, but it often comes with terms and conditions. It’s okay to be gay! As long as you’re masculine, successful, and never “too gay.” Kapag trans ka—ibang usapin pa ’to. Mas mabigat, mas delikado, at mas hindi tinatanggap.

Words by Rafael Temana

𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐑 | 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

“Bading yan pero…” the backhanded compliment that haunts every gay man just trying to exist. These expectations create a mold: the gay man must be masculine, accomplished, and invisible in his femininity—palatable to the heteronormative palate. Now, the q***r community has been more accepted, but it often comes with terms and conditions. It’s okay to be gay! As long as you’re masculine, successful, and never “too gay.” Kapag trans ka—ibang usapin pa ’to. Mas mabigat, mas delikado, at mas hindi tinatanggap.

Amid our conservative society's attempt to grasp the concept of q***rness, q***r people are only celebrated when they are overachievers. Honor student, smart, “di halata.” Gay men are tamed so they are not threatening the norms. Just barely existing, but not challenging, and hard to be understood. Take, for example, public figures like Tito Boy Abunda, Paolo Ballesteros, and BJ Pascual: successful, articulate, and often praised for their professionalism or artistry. They are accepted, even celebrated, but largely because they fit society’s comfort zone: disente, composed, talented, and never “too much.” Their q***rness is tolerable—palatable, as long as it doesn’t disrupt the norm. It seems like gay men have to fight their way to acceptance, to be more pleasing just for the masses to accept their identity. “Ok lang naman na bading, ‘di naman halata.” Being gay isn’t really the problem, being feminine is. This conditional acceptance is reinforced by studies showing that while a high percentage of Filipinos express acceptance of homosexuality, negative attitudes persist, especially towards expressions that stray away from traditional masculinity (Manalastas & del Pilar, 2005). Furthermore, discrimination in workplaces, where gay men are often expected to be "disente" and "composed," further highlights this societal discomfort with too much femininity (PMC, n.d.).

Society’s disgust isn’t only pointed towards q***rness, it’s with femininity, especially in men. A high-pitched voice, swish of the hips, or soft mannerisms. These small things automatically invalidate the achievements of a gay man. So as long as you are masculine, it’s ok! After all, you look like a straight man. The question is, why is femininity—an expression of grace and beauty, feared when presented by a man? Would they still be celebrated when they don’t fit the mold? Nakakatuwa ba o nakakatawa lang pag bading na bading?

Homophobia is not just hate for gay people, it’s also the hate for femininity. In the traditional archetypes set by the patriarchy, femininity is seen as a weakness, it is shameful and degrading. When you uphold a higher status as a man in a patriarchal society, under that system, it would be a downgrade to embody femininity, while masculinity equates to control and power. A man who has the upper hand in this broken system, becomes equal with women when they start on displaying feminine characteristics. This reveals the deep-seated misogyny in Filipino culture: femininity is only acceptable when confined to women, and even then, only under strict conditions. This misogyny fuels machismo, another enemy hiding in plain sight.

Machismo is basically defined as the toxic masculine trait of men. Hindi pwedeng lalambot-lambot o matinis ang boses, ang ganitong kilos ay pang-comedy lamang, hindi sineseryoso ng masa—gaya nalang ni Vice Ganda, a q***r icon, na bentang benta ang mga baklang kanal moments niya, pero hindi talaga ipinagdiriwang. He’s laughed at, not lifted up. His flamboyance is tolerated only as entertainment, not celebrated as valid expression. The more “barako” a guy looks, thinks, and acts, the greater respect they receive in the traditional Filipino culture. This bleeds out even to the radical forms of expression in the q***r community: how gay men present themselves. Q***r expression is tolerated—but only when it's masculine enough.

The notion “bading yan pero…” becomes internalized. Society not only molded the way gay men should look, but also on how they should think. Even inside the community, homophobia is still present. Trends in gay dating apps such as “masc4masc,” “pass sa halata,” have become so normalized that it became an inside joke, yet the problem still exists. Even classism plays a part, the way chaotic gay men talk, profiles them into someone deemed “walang class.” Because of internalized homophobia, being a “baklang kanal” is treated as something shameful—even by fellow g**s. No right to femininity, nor the vibrant expression of kanal vocabulary. The irony is, we push for the rights of the community, but we leave behind others that are not palatable to the society. It’s not “laban para sa mga bading!” anymore, it becomes “bading laban sa mga kapwa bading.”

Masculinity was never the problem—it’s the performance of masculinity to survive or to be accepted. Gay men have always come in various forms, we have the girly-pop gymrats, the malditang twinks, the gamer gay nerds, and much more—our variety never ends! Because after all, q***rness is just a part of us, not the whole dictator of our own life. What we need to fight against is the unfair judgement dominantly put on feminine gay men. Since the beginning, we have been fighting in the name of love, so it should be evident all throughout the community. We can achieve the true freedom for expression when we no longer perform for the male gaze, or worse, straight approval.

Before we seek the straight validations, let’s uplift our own siblings first. No more leaving behind the flamboyant g**s, the loud ones, the soft ones. Achieving q***r freedom also means the total freedom of expression, not selective inclusion. At the end of the day, the community that stood beside us, that catered for us, is none other than our own community. As we go around this world full of judgement, we are the ones who should be putting an end to the prejudice our own kind is receiving. Society pressures us to fit the mold just to be tolerated. But this same mold slowly suffocates us—until we begin to despise our own truth. 𝘒𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘨𝘪 𝘴𝘢 𝘮𝘨𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘯𝘢𝘸𝘢’𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘨𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘸𝘢𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘰𝘥 𝘴𝘢 𝘬𝘢𝘱𝘸𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨.

Words by Rafael Temana

13/05/2026

𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐑 | 𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

In recent weeks, the social media platform TikTok has been flooded with AI-generated images that mimic the distinctive art style of Studio Ghibli. The so-called "Ghiblification" trend allows users to transform their photos into illustrations resembling scenes from Hayao Miyazaki’s films. This trend is concerning as it not only undermines the meaning of art but also disrespects the dedication and passion of artists.

Words by Eddlyan Talla
Layout by Rich Miranda

𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐑 | 𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

In recent weeks, the social media platform TikTok has been flooded with AI-generated images that mimic the distinctive art style of Studio Ghibli. The so-called "Ghiblification" trend allows users to transform their photos into illustrations resembling scenes from Hayao Miyazaki’s films. This trend is concerning as it not only undermines the meaning of art but also disrespects the dedication and passion of artists.

According to a Vox article, Hayao Miyazaki, the co-founder of Studio Ghibli, has long expressed disapproval of artificial intelligence and AI-generated art. In a 2016 documentary, after watching an AI-generated animation, Miyazaki expressed his deep frustration, stating, "I am utterly disgusted. I strongly feel that this is an insult to life itself." Miyazaki's outrage directly mirrors his deeper belief that the concept of art is intertwined with human thoughts, feelings, and purposefulness all of which AI, no matter how advanced it may be, cannot imitate.​

A University of Plymouth article explains that art is a form of representation and emotional expression that exists everywhere. The article also talked about how AI lacks the emotions that go into human-created art. This is an agreement with the statement that Miyazaki has, that there is no emotion in AI-generated art.

As we adapt to evolving technology, we, Benildeans must ensure that the human essence remains central in the process of creating art. It should not be diminished by technological innovations on which ghiblification relies.​ The wave of ghiblification, although aesthetically appealing, also showcases the fact that the human factor when it comes to creativity is irreplaceable. Because after all, the beauty of Studio Ghibli movies are not solely reliant on the visual elements but very much with the plot presentation, the emotions, and the how it represents the vast human imagination. It is the human emotions that make up art — one’s passion, grit, and helplessness. It is not about convenience or the trend of instant gratification, but the long search for inspiration. Hence, the ghiblification trend directly reflects the increasing disregard for artists and their work.

As we confront the rise of AI in art, we must recognize that human creativity is our most original trait — something machines can never replicate.

Words by Eddlyan Talla
Layout by Rich Miranda

13/05/2026

𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗞𝗔𝗡 | Hinahabi

𝘚𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘬𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘬𝘢𝘯,
𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘺 𝘬𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘢.

Tahimik na pumapagaspas ang mga elisi ng bentilador na nakapatong sa upuan. May maninipis na tela pang nakapalibot sa paanan nito upang hindi mahulog. Nakatutok ito sa aking mga kamay na abala sa pagsusulot ng sinulid sa mumunting butas ng karayom. Sa bawat pag-impi ng aking mga labi ay tinatahak ng hibla ng sinulid ang lulusutan. May namumuo pang pawis mula sa pagitan ng aking mga daliri na siyang nagtitipon sa gitna ng aking mga palad. Umuugong ang huni ng boses ng host ng radyo, minsan malinis ang tunog, at minsan naman ay sing gaspang ng mga kalyong naninirahan sa talukap ng aking mga kuko. Binabalot ng ritmo nito ang mga pader ng aming bahay. Sinasabayan ito ng tiyempo ng magkasunod na hilik ng aking anak at asawa. Ang mga kisame ay kinukumpasan ng mga kulay ng nag-iisang ilaw na nakabukas sa aking harapan. Ipinipinta nito sa aking anino ang mga pangarap ng aking anak na nakahilata sa kwarto sa kanan. At sa mabagal na usad ng mga kamay ng orasan, ang dulo ng aking sinulid ay hindi na lamang nakaikot sa lagayan nito, kundi nagbubuklod na rin sa punda ng unan na hagkan ng aking asawa.

𝘚𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘢𝘺,
𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘺 𝘬𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘰.

Muling sumigaw ang konduktor. Ang isang kamay niya’y mahigpit na nakakapit sa bakal ng jeep, habang ang kaliwang binti lamang ang nakaapak sa pintuan. Kumakanta ang malutong na kalansing ng mga barya sa kaniyang bulsa. Tila tambol naman ang kabila niyang kamay na humahampas sa bubong sa bawat kanto. Alas otso na at mahaba pa ang aking biyahe. Magaspang ang pagdampi ng amoy ng usok sa aking balat, hinahaluan ng halimuyak ng bagong lutong manok galing sa tindahang aming dinaraanan. Patuloy kong hinahabi ang mga salita mula sa aking isipan. Kumukutitap ang ilaw ng mga bahay sa mga blangkong espasyo, pansamantalang kinukulayan ang mukha ng mga pasahero. Sumasayad ang dulo ng panulat sa papel habang umuuga ang dyip. Nabubuhol ang mga letra sa gilid ng pahina. Hinahabol sila ng hangin na pumapasok sa bintana. Nananaig ang katahimikan sa loob. Sumasabay sa saliw ng dyip ang dahan-dahang pagbagsak ng ulo ng lalaking nakaupo sa likod ng tsuper. Sa harapan ko, payapang kumakain ng tinapay ang isang babae. Bakas sa kaniyang mukha ang pagod. Marahil ito na ang kaniyang hapunan. Tuloy-tuloy ang pag-indak ng aking panulat sa init ng gabi. At sa dulo ng mga salitang ito ay ang hibla ng aking tsaketa mula sa hinaharap—may bitbit na mga papeles malapit sa siko, at papalapit sa tunog ng malyete.

𝘚𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘨𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘸𝘢 𝘢𝘵 𝘬𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘺𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘯,
𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘺 𝘬𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘨-𝘢𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘢.

Bumabalot ang amoy ng mechado sa bakuran. Gumagapang ang bango ng kamatis at bawang mula sa bintana ng kusina. Yumayakap ito sa bawat sulok ng bahay at tahimik na sumisiping sa mga alon ng tawa sa sala. Madulas ang kapit ng aking mga daliri sa buhok ng aking apo. Maingat ko itong hinahabi sa isang tirintas. Isang hibla sa ibabaw ng isa pa, dahan-dahan, na tila ayaw kong matapos agad. Sa bawat segundo’y marahan siyang lumalayo sa aking bisig. Napapalingon siya sa loob, sabik na makihalubilo sa kaniyang mga pinsan na abalang naglalaro. Maririnig ang ugong ng lumang bentilador mula sa kwarto. Nakikipag-agawan ang tunog nito sa lakas ng boses ng aking mga anak na nagkukwentuhan. Punong-puno ang bahay ngunit hindi ito nakakasakal. Sa halip, higit na mas maluwag pa ang hangin ngayong gabi. Banayad kong hinawi ang mga natitirang hibla sa likod ng tainga ng apo ko. Tapos na ang tiritas. Kumawala siya sa aking hagkan at nagmamadaling pumasok sa loob. Dali-dali siyang tumakbo patungo sa sala. Ang kaniyang mga yapak ay mahinang kumakalabog sa tabla. Sinundan ko siya hanggang sa binuhat siya ng aking panganay. Tumatawang ginulo ng aking bunso ang tirintas na aking binuo, at lalo pang lumakas ang kanilang mga tawanan. Isang malaking ngiti ang gumuhit sa aking mukha. At sa palibot ng aking mga kamay nananalaytay ang pag-ibig na nagtatali sa pamilyang ito.

✒️💻 Miralene Cabanting

12/05/2026

𝗕𝗘𝗡𝗜𝗟𝗗𝗘 𝗡𝗘𝗪𝗦│Benilde Antipolo records 100% passing rate for first-time takers in 2026 March LEPT

De La Salle–College of Saint Benilde Antipolo recorded a 100% passing rate for first-time takers in the 2026 Licensure Examination for Professional Teachers (LEPT).

The achievement marked another milestone for the College as six new Benildean Licensed Professional Teachers, including one Deaf Teacher Certification Program (TCP) graduate, successfully passed the examination, which contributes to an overall passing rate of 85.71%, surpassing the national passing rate of 73.10%.

Meanwhile, the Professional Regulation Commission (PRC) announced on Tuesday, May 12, that 18,376 elementary teachers out of 32,796 examinees (56.03%) and 45,001 secondary teachers out of 61,561 examinees (73.10%) successfully passed the LEPT.

Moreover, PRC Board noted that the results were released three days ahead of the target date.

LEPT is a national licensure examination administered by PRC, which assesses the competency of aspiring elementary and secondary teachers, ensuring they are qualified to practice.

🖋️ Daffney Nudalo

12/05/2026

𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 | Performative Nonchalance in the Age Of Yearning

You are in the cinema, watching a movie. It is heavy, moving, and you cry. But then, suddenly, the film ends. The credits start rolling. The lights go up, too quickly, too bright. That is when you realize people can see you. So you wipe your face right away, pretending nothing happened. You act nonchalant, quiet, as if you were not just shaken by something heavy. You walk out slowly. You even stop by a shop, trying to look casual.

🖊 Acuario Ongpin
💻 Rich Miranda

𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 | Performative Nonchalance in the Age Of Yearning

You are in the cinema, watching a movie. It is heavy, moving, and you cry. But then, suddenly, the film ends. The credits start rolling. The lights go up, too quickly, too bright. That is when you realize people can see you. So you wipe your face right away, pretending nothing happened. You act nonchalant, quiet, as if you were not just shaken by something heavy. You walk out slowly. You even stop by a shop, trying to look casual.

And then you end up in a fast-food place. Across the table, you notice a couple. The girl leans against her boyfriend while they feed each other fries and sundaes. You feel something, annoyance maybe, or something closer to envy. Perhaps even a little bit of longing.

Because deep down, is that not what you want, too?

And yet, we always act like we do not. Why do we have to perform nonchalance when, in truth, we have always yearned? We have always wanted to express. That is the irony of it: we yearn but pretend not to.

This irony runs deep in Filipino culture. We have always been expressive. For centuries, we wrote poetry, sang songs, and prayed to the heavens. In pre-colonial times, when we loved someone, we prayed to Bathala for that person’s heart. We wrote letters, love letters filled with longing. Think of Rizal or Bonifacio, who did not just write for nation and revolution but also wrote to the people they loved. Pages of words, fiery and tender. And yet today, we pretend we are embarrassed by that kind of expression.

But it has always been there. When we write songs, when we write poetry, even in school when asked to write a letter, who do we first think of? A crush. A parent. A sibling. Sometimes even our dogs. That instinct to be expressive has always been with us. Listen to our music. Compare it to English songs. There is something different — ours carries a raw, undeniable tenderness. Even without lyrics, you can feel the love in the melody. Courtship and harana — our culture has long been built on expressing what we feel.

Filipinos have always chosen to feel deeply. In retreats, for example, even the most introverted student ends up crying when the facilitator speaks. And yet at some point, being nonchalant became trendy. But when?

This is not new, of course. History has always reserved space for those who feel too much. The Romantics, Shakespeare’s tragic heroines, Romeo and Juliet with their ‘you die, I die.’ (Though let us be honest, it is not a love story.) Or Titanic with its ‘you jump, I jump.’ These stories tell us something universal. To express deeply, to cry, to grieve, to love — it is part of being human.

Nonchalance, on the other hand, often comes from two places: either someone is genuinely introverted, raised to be inward. Or it is society’s conditioning: patriarchy telling men not to cry, telling women to stay composed. But underneath it all, people still yearn. People still ache.

Social media complicates this further. Online, detachment thrives. Platforms tell us to curate, to present ourselves as aloof. Timelines become battlegrounds of irony. Minimalist captions, plain layouts, carefully detached aesthetics. But yearning slips through. No matter how hard we try to look unbothered, it always leaks out. Through playlists curated like love letters; subtweets aching for someone’s attention; MyDay posts and Instagram subliminals. Or even in the aesthetics themselves, soft, whispering of longing.

That is the thing: yearning refuses to disappear. It is stubbornly human. Even if flattened into performance, even if buried beneath irony, it finds a way. Families keep old letters, old baby clothes, old trinkets. Friends keep retreat letters in shoeboxes. People hold on, quietly, to sentiment.

Yearning has always been communal too. In fandoms, in nostalgia, in activism. The longing for a favorite idol to notice you. The yearning for a band that disbanded years ago. The pull of returning to old places that once held laughter. The radical yearning for a better society. All of it — fandoms, nostalgia, movements, shows that desire matters.

To yearn is the most human act. To long for love, peace, happiness, people, places, even things we have lost. To long for opportunities that never came. That is the greatest gift given to us as humans.

So in an age that tells you to detach, to purify, to empty yourself, the art of yearning leans in. Because to yearn is radical. To hurt, to hope, to love, to grieve, this has always been and will always be the truth of human existence.

🖊 Acuario Ongpin
💻 Rich Miranda

12/05/2026

𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 | Pormal nang nagtapos ang botohan ngayong 7 PM sa Sta. Cruz Elementary School sa Antipolo, isa sa pinakamaraming bilang ng rehistradong botante sa Rizal, na aabot sa higit 37,000.

Ulat ni Joane Pauline Respicio ng The Benildean Star
Kamera at editing ni Jean Simon Castillo