Father’s Day Special: Sometimes you get lucky in the parent draw

Ilia Uy is currently a Media Studies (Film) graduate student at the University of the Philippines, Diliman. And because she has no background whatsoever in her chosen program, she is taking undergrad units with teenagers, mostly sophomores. She just realized how weird it is to be the “old classmate.”

When Michael Giacchino won the Oscar this year for Best Score for his work in the Disney-Pixar animated film “Up,” he gave the most inspiring — and yet the simplest — acceptance speech. Here’s an excerpt:

“When I was nine I asked my dad, “Can I have your movie camera? That old, wind-up 8mm camera that was in your drawer?” And he goes, “Sure, take it.” And I took it and I started making movies with it and I started being as creative as I could, and never once in my life did my parents ever say, “What you’re doing is a waste of time.” Never.”

This rings very true in my life. And I know how lucky I am. It’s not c0mmon  for creative people, especially writers, to have supportive, much less understanding, parents. Perhaps because the arts isn’t a conventionally profitable field and no parent wants their kid to starve (or to live in their basement forever).

The author and her dad in 2007. (Oh my gulay, my hair is horrible!)

Today is Father’s Day and I take this opportunity to give tribute to my dad and my mom for being awesome parents in this aspect.

First of all, I am amazingly blessed with parents who are readers. There are literally books all over our home. I was raised on the written word — not on toys or video games. By age two, I had memorized a Strawberry Shortcake book because my parents read it to me every night (or so they say ). When I was five years old, my dad taught me to read for the first time using “The Little Red Hen.” Almost every month since I entered grade school, we’d go to National Bookstore and my dad would let us pick out a book to buy.

 

My childhood heroes weren’t TV characters. Yes, I watched Batibot, Sesame Street, and the popular anime shows of that time but my heroes were Anne of Green Gables, Bilbo Baggins, the four Pevensies, Wilbur the pig, and Charlotte the spider — all thanks to the love for reading my parents passed on to me.

A sketch I made for my mom on Mother's Day this May.

After reading so many stories, it was only inevitable that I’d want to write my own. Before I hit puberty, I was regularly writing — crappy writing but writing nonetheless. I was also sketching and attempting to create my own comic series (that one failed). My parents gave me their old, unused office planners to write on. They were great encouragers, perhaps because my dad had to make his own path and my mom almost didn’t get the chance to go to college.

When I was fourteen, my mom worked out a deal with a local painter. She baked cookies, apple pies, cakes, and other goodies in exchange for art lessons. Back then, I thought it was great of her but I didn’t realize till I was grown up how rare it is for parents to support their kid’s artistic talent in this country.

I could go on and on with tiny stories of my parents’ support. I could list the writing books my dad bought for me. I could babble on about how my mom’s tribal background developed my love for fantastic folk tales. I could tell you of how my mom posted my acceptance letter (which I have now lost) to the Ateneo National Writers’ Workshop on our refrigerator. But I’ll stop here. You get it: my parents were incredibly supportive of my creative inclinations. I’m lucky.

Skeptics would say that too much support cripples a child, making him/her too dependent. I don’t think that’s what happened in my case. Support, balanced with reasonable trust, can be empowering. My parents allowed me to go to UPLB to study where I had to take care of myself 24/7. They allowed me to rent a house with my friends during my sophomore year. They were okay with me taking out of town trips without them.

I would say this kind of upbringing made me — for a lack of a better word — brave. Their trust and belief is a big factor that I can apply to workshops and magazines without being crippled with the fear of rejection. If I didn’t have the parents that I have, I probably wouldn’t have the guts to quit my job and go to grad school with only a semester’s worth of savings. In short, my parents have my back. Always.

I know that not a lot of creatively-inclined people have this kind of support. A lot of my friends say their parents don’t even get what in the world they’re doing. I’ve heard of a sad story of someone’s thesis gathering dust in a shelf somewhere — the parents didn’t even bother to read the acknowledgement section. To all of you guys with parents love you but don’t understand your passion for the arts, I borrow from the last part of Michael Giacchino’s acceptance speech:

“But  I know there are kids out there that don’t have that support system, so if you’re out there and you’re listening, listen to me: If you want to be creative, get out there and do it. It’s not a waste of time. Do it. OK?”

And let me just add something: Love your parents anyway.

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