A Month with the Boys

For the past month, I have had the distinct privilege of teaching JAN 402 – Lasallian Service Internship International – Philippines. Five students from Saint Mary’s bravely committed to a month of service-learning alongside our Lasallian brothers and sisters at Bahay Pagasa, a center for youth in conflict with the law in Bacolod.

Ranging in age from 14 to 23, “the boys,” as we affectionately came to call them, left an imprint on our hearts that is difficult to articulate. Many came from broken families and carried accusations of violent crimes, yet they welcomed us into their community the moment we introduced ourselves.

A typical morning in Bacolod began early—around 5:30 a.m. My five students and I would wake up, prepare a quick cup of instant coffee, and make our way to the basketball court. Slowly, the boys would emerge from their dorms, grinning from ear to ear when they realized we were already awake, ready to sit, talk, and simply be with them.

We did a lot of that over the month. We arrived with no agenda, no expectations, and no outcomes to measure. This was intentional. During our pre-trip workshops, I told my students:

“Come in with an open mind and open heart. Be vulnerable. Don’t expect anything to happen. Don’t necessarily set goals for yourself to accomplish this month. And be comfortable with a cold shower.”

I also reminded them of a phrase Sister Jodi Min often shared during my first Lasallian Service Internship in 2014 in South Africa:

“For the next month, we are going to live simply so others can simply live.”

Twelve years later, it remains a message I carry with me and one I share on every immersion and service experience I am privileged to lead.

After breakfast, usually a mound of rice and a fried egg, sometimes paired with a grilled hotdog or a scoop of sardines, xwe would begin farming for the day. The work typically lasted about an hour, though the heat and humidity often shortened our time. Still, we gave what we could. One morning stands out in particular: after about twenty minutes of labor, the boys climbed coconut trees and knocked down several coconuts for us. With a few swings of a machete, we were drinking the freshest coconut water I have ever tasted.

The next few hours were often spent sitting in plastic picnic chairs facing the quad—singing John Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads,” playing endless games of UNO, and sharing stories. The boys were just as eager to learn about our lives as we were about theirs.

Before lunch, we gathered in their chapel for a brief prayer, always ending the same way we do at Saint Mary’s:

“Saint John Baptist De La Salle, Pray for Us”
“Live Jesus in Our Hearts, Forever!”

Those words became a quiet tether to home, a reminder of where we came from and where we would eventually return.

In the afternoons, the house prefects often asked if we had an activity planned. Unaware that the boys had no formal instructor, we quickly found ourselves stepping into the roles of math and English teachers.

One afternoon, we introduced compound sentences through a simple group game, with each boy adding a word to build a complete thought. This is the sentence they created together:

Poverty is a challenge for a family, but they are able to improve their life.

A sobering and hopeful reminder for us all.

Near the end of our time in Bacolod, we spent two nights at the University of St. La Salle, giving my students the opportunity to sit in on classes related to their majors. Less than twenty-four hours into our stay, one student quietly said:

“I miss the boys.”

Experiences like this, like all of January Term, are what make Saint Mary’s what it has long been. They define us as an institution grounded in tradition and deeply committed to living out our Mission. We do not simply speak about issues of social justice; we act on them. We place ourselves in communities different from our own so that we may better understand the world and our responsibility to it.

This experience has been, without question, the greatest accomplishment and most meaningful memory of my career in higher education thus far. I am endlessly grateful to the students who entrusted me with their care, an act our Founder wrote about often. I am profoundly lucky to do this work, and to walk alongside our students, every single day.

I would be remiss if I failed to mention those who helped make this trip possible. Their names are listed here, in no particular order: Claire Williams, Carrie Davis, Jodi Min, Courtney Andrews, Daniella Slader, Kennedy Schultz, William Person, Sadie Ugoretz, Juanpablo Hernandez, Alice Baldridge, Anna Besa, Br. Edgar Esparagoza, FSC, Jaycee Seran, Br. Kenneth Martinez, FSC, Br. Iñigo Riola, FSC, and of course, “the boys.”