Alay 2021 - Ingat

ALAY ANTHOLOGY VOLUME 25

ingat

ingat TAGALOG

1. (noun) care; carefulness 2. (interjection) take care

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Alay, meaning dedication or offering in Tagalog, is an annual student publication comprised of original written and visual artwork by the Pilipinx community and our allies at the University of California, Santa Cruz.

Our mission is to provide the Bayanihan community and their allies a safe space to cultivate creativity, self-expression and share their culture, identity, and heritage.

Alay would like to thank the Commitee on Ethnic Programming, Student Media Council, Cowell Student Senate, Kresge Parliament, TWANAS, Community Printers, and the Bayanihan community.

We would like to give a special thanks to our advisor Susan Watrous and Dave Bossie from Community Printers.

Thank you to the students of color who have continously supported and contributed creative work from and by the Pilipinx community.

Cover art by Ella Apuntar Copyright © 2021 by Alay All right retained by authors and artists.

Contact alay.ucsc@gmail.com to submit to next year’s anthology!

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VOLUME 25 STAFF

Ella Apuntar two thumbs up!

Ryan Nachor *beeps and honks*

Kora Fortun i like it

Lluvia Moreno growing ✌

Veronica Luz boogie woogie woogie

Samantha Sebandal *big stretch !*

Luna Antazo *gazes at moon* it me

Michael Sim kain na

Jenna Morris subarasheeeesh!

Mariah Peralta na jaemin enthusiast

Markus Portacio (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ Minecraft♡Miku

Ricky Yang mint yerba mate (guayaki ofc)

Aaron Guiz still understanding how to exist

Sierra Caoili your best american girl

Laura Gavia don’t mind don’t mind!

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DEAR READER There are fewer things as forthright in their honesty as the importance of taking care: of yourself, and of others, and of all the plants you’ve acquired in the last year — I know it’s easy to forget. Here’s a reminder, then — I hope we wake up every day knowing we’re in good hands. I hope you feel safe here. What we have is so special. One day we’ll figure out how to repay all the kindness we’ve ever been given. Until then, let’s do our best to protect everything that’s been entrusted to us.

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LETTERS FROM EDITORS This year marks the 25th anniversary of the Alay Anthology!

Truthfully, 25 is no more special than 24, 26, or any other number you could possibly think of, but a quarter century’s worth of publications feels like an appropriate cause for celebration.

For the last 25 years, students at UCSC have recognized the need for this anthology to exist. Through our hard work, dedication, and love for the space, we’ve been able to put together hundreds and hundreds of pages holding the extraordinary artwork and writing created by members of our community.

When I think about how we’ve all managed to exist at the same time; how we’ve all taken different paths leading to the same place; how all of our gratitude continues to manifest itself into a book; I am convinced: Alay is a miracle.

Thank you to Bayanihan and Student Media for supporting Alay, the anthology, and the student leaders responsible for its production each and every year.

Thank you to all of the alumni who have helped shape Alay into what it is today, and for keeping parts of Alay with you wherever you go.

Finally, thank you to this year’s Alay staff, for committing a tremendous amount of time and energy toward making this book. Your generosity is the heart of the entire anthology.

I appreciate you all endlessly!

ELLA APUNTAR VOLUME 25, INGAT (2021) 8

RIANE BRIONES VOLUME 19, BAYANIHAN (2015)

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To you, Thank you for holding Ingat! It is beautiful to think that I was once a first year at UCSC attending FSA’s fall reception in 2015. Perusing through Riane’s Bayanihan (2015) (which may have had an influence in FSA’s name change), signing the interest form, joining Jensu and Nico’s staff for Kaluluwa ng Pagkain or “Soul Food” (2016), and having the honor of producing Waling Waling (2017) with Aiko and Raph.

The first anthology I held was named Bayanihan and how could I have known that I would find that “community spirit” in the subsequent four years, or quite literally be in “Bayanihan”. The same, yet different, Bayanihan that exists today.

Wherever you may go, I hope you know that you are greatly appreciated. Because the impact that you leave on others today, will continue to shape tomorrow. Wow I sound like a poet...

Take care, Therese

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THERESE AUZA VOLUME 21, WALING WALING (2017) NICO BARADI VOLUME 20, KALULUWA NG PAGKAIN (2016)

I find it funny that after all this time I’m reminded to submit to Alay. But old habits die hard I guess. To those who came before, thank you for welcoming me and showing me the way. To those who were with me during, thank you for sticking with me through thick and thin.

And to those who follow, I believe in you. There will always be adversity, but I know that you will continue to do what’s right and show the world that we belong and our voices matter. Augusta per angusta.

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SABRINA ILUMIN VOLUME 23, MAKILALA ANG SARILI (2019)

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CHRISTINE BAGAOISAN VOLUME 17, PINANGGALINGAN (2013)

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BEVERLY ABAD VOLUME 18, KAPUSO (2014)

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The alumni before me often described Bayanihan along these lines, this is such a unique time when we’re discovering ourselves with our lifelong friends.

Some days I think to myself, there’s so much more I could’ve done as a community member, co-chair, student, and friend.

Trust me, you don’t want to live this way! Do the best you can each day, but also know you’re trying your best for the situation that you’re in. Try not to worry about the smaller things, they’ll sort themselves out on their own. All the hours you spend stressing out, you’ll never get back.

There’s a long list of people I’d like to thank: my housemates (Arielle, Blase, Christian, Kenny, Susanna, Wison), my mentors, and my amazing co’s (Krystal and Tem / Alecxis, Irish, and JP).

Susan Watrous was incredible. She taught us to be intentional about copyright, prints, and Adobe InDesign.

She guided us through and through. I even took these skills with me after college!

Shout out my KAMP fams especially Adrian, Justin, Nikki, and Noelle <3 Angelica Guiao, Cindy Aranas, Sam Garcia, and Kim Balmorez - I love you forever! Chris, Percival, and Roman - need I say more? :) Lastly, all the friends I’ve kept along the way - thank you!!

Ingat, Beverly 15

TEM VELASQUEZ YSMAEL VOLUME 18, KAPUSO (2014)

Dear Bayanihan/FSA, I write this foreward with “Ingat” in mind – a compelling word that encapsulates a year of uncertainty with the pandemic and social distress that surrounds us. To the community that continues to carve a niche at UCSC, keep up the great work. It takes a village to run this organization and to see Alay, let along Bayanihan/FSA running strong makes me incredibly proud.

To Ella Apuntar – the coordinator(s) before and after me had to do it alone, but the great part is that there are folks willing to step up and help build the anthology. I cannot wait to see the finished product and see what the creative minds of the community have on paper.

To Bayanihan/FSA, you make your lifelong friends in college – one of my groomsmen, Nico Baradi, was one of the Alay coordinators – continue to build your relationships with your peers as you will quickly find out who your lifelong friends are.

Feel free to reach to me on LinkedIn if you ever need career advice or to talk about opportunities – I find that the best thing I can do is be a solid reference and guide folks to success.

In solidarity, Tem Velasquez Ysmael 16

The first time I read through an Alay book, it was my freshman year. It was an old copy from years before.

There in my hands were the tangible expressions of many who, just like me, were trying to navigate their young adult lives while, for the first time, truly exploring what it meant to be Filipino in America.

Art, photos, poems, and short stories of joy, sadness, loss, and reflection. I felt “seen.” Part of me realized it was something I didn’t even know I needed. At the time, it had been out of print for a few years. Getting it going again felt like an uphill climb. But thanks to those who believed in its necessity, it made a longawaited comeback. I am so grateful to have been a part of Alay’s history. Alay fulfills a need for artistic and literary expression from Filipino students. But just as important, it serves as a documentation of their individual experiences and as a collective voice during times when the rest of the world seems to forget about us. Thank you for keeping it alive and congratulations Alay!

JERISA MACALINO VOLUME 8, REBIRTH (2004)

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Elementary Sick Days Markus Faye Portacio

Gouache and digital art background; a lil painting to try and sum up what it felt like on all the many sick days I had in elementary school.

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desert town Aaron Guiz

poem of when it was really hot for the first time in a while

the past few months, it’s been winter, and I thought I really liked the cold air, and long nights, but now it’s spring, and I feel the warmth and it just feels so — it feels like a hug. it feels like late 2000s. desert heat. my aunt’s old house. (before my uncle died) dining table. every seat taken. christmas trees. leather chairs. backyard sand. slow summer days. everything that’s gone. it’s late 2000s. my grandpa is alive and gardening.

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my aunt is working at the diner. my grandma is cooking the last meal. my cousin is out with his high school friends. desert town. hot heat.

I miss this.

I thought I loved winter and how cold it was, and how the blankets kept me warm, but now spring rolls around and the air just feels like a loose hug around my soul. my heart is beating the same way it did way back in that desert town. memories frozen in this heat. melting, as it feels more and more like late 2000s (desert town). it’s a long drive there, but my grandpa loves the trip.

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Purple haze Luna Ant

Long shot of the horizon at night 21

Mimus polyglottos Samantha S.

Photography taken on Nikon D3500 using a 70-200 mm lens

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what_is_art_?

Kristen

Digital Collage 23

Ebb

Sierra Caoili Prose

My mother whispered in my ear there is no word for it like there is in English. “There are too many words just to describe one thing,” she liked to say.

I watched my grandmother withdraw deep into herself, which I’d come to realize was something she did that I inherited. Along with her likeness in the bridgeless nose and chin, features that were evenly distributed among her six daughters. I remember feeling close to her in an odd way.

She’d traded one shore for another. I remember each of her body’s attempts to adjust. She sorely missed humidity, the languid motion of sweat as it rolled down her skin and fell into a pearl onto her lap. As she felt her ocular sensibilities weaken, I caught a glimpse of that frightened village girl. The one that lives inside of you and inside of me.

I remember my grandmother squashed mosquitoes the length of my eyelash. Just a few minutes earlier, the doctor told us that her eyes had turned into leaking sacs. Existence as she knew it was thinning, and there was no word that could relay this kindly.

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connected

Gamliel Urlanda Digital Photography

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feeling hollow inside jenbmo —

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Garden

Veronica Caryn Luz

Paint pen on paper

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I keep the sunrise in a jar in my room to help drive out all the shadows Lluvia Moreno

Watercolor on paper

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tebow josh

i drew my dog on procreate lol i love him he is 11 he is a shih tzu/lhasa apso mix

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spring time!

Deanne Presas

photograph from my morning walk and simply admiring nature

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Safe Travels Ryan Nachor

Watercolor and white pen on watercolor paper 32

rose woman Leslie Marquez

art pencil sketch

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The Last A

Poetry

my words have stopped reaching you a long time ago, and yet i think it’s alright if this one falls short too

i told myself you weren’t at fault that it was my failure to understand to appreciate

you were supposed to be the last the last one i sent good nights texts to the last to see me at my lowest, only to lift me to my highest the last person whose sleeping face brought me peace and the last person whose words i’d let graze my ears softly but you weren’t

just like all the other times

and i was ok with that until i wasn’t

that all i deserved was a “take care of yourself” maybe if i had even gotten that anger would have turned to sorrow and i’d much rather freeze than burn that one last lie would have made the rest just a tad bit believable and so, i’d like to wish you the same take care

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my tiny apartment living room

Anonymous

picture of my family’s apartment living room at night.

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max through

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the

ye ar s

mariah peralta

iphone photography and digital collage — when i saw the theme for this year’s anthology was ingat, it reminded me of my dog. he always makes sure i’m doing okay and really embodies the word ingat.

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december first Tati Martinez

gouache on paper

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Ryan Tran

198 W Santa Clara Street

bathroom blues s.s.

photography 40

Robert Marmito here’s to acceptance 41

生活 OK: a study of anatomical

instructions tiny thunders

photo, shot from under a lemon tree 42

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Mikki Lim Last Loop Photo

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Michael Sim

Take Care Bayanihan

Adobe Illustrator For those in Bayanihan who made my past 4 years with this community possible

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↑/↑↑/↑↑↑ Kristen Baniaga Photography

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Alagaan

Ryan Nachor

Watercolor and marker on wood block 48

February 2021 / May 2021 / April 2021 / November 2021 Luna Ant

Bullet journal themes

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my go to guy anonymous poem

my go to guy when a jar is too tough to open is my grandpa and his skinny hands. he somehow pops that fucker right open as if he was young again. oh to be young again. oh to have him here and open another jar for me.

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graveyard on father’s day

Aaron Guiz

photo of when i went to see my grandpa and gave him flowers on father’s day 51

Creepy Things Come in T(h)rees Anonymous Photography 52

Winter Blues Anonymous

blues are just another color

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firecracker anael banta

digital painting

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Invert

Tati Martinez Acrylic on canvas

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HOW_IT_B.stp look i just work here film photo collage

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in the face of death, love is all you have Anonymous Poem

I remember how a mother was in the ICU with us, and how she was crying because her sister (I think) had died, and she told us how her and her family were growing up, that it was her fourth sibling who was taken. that she was one of the few left. now my family at the time was also going through pain. losing a dad, a husband, my grandpa. we all sat there in the quiet ICU just close (but not close enough) to the room that held our dying hope. we never saw that mother again, but i know in her memory she will remember my family and how even though we did not know each other, we gave love.

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When will this end?

Anonymous Photographs

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Through Our Eyes

The members of Isang Himig A Capella

Digital; Isang Himig created this piece during our Winter Retreat and our first practice of spring quarter. Each of us drew one of the other members in whatever way we wanted. We had a lot of fun making the piece.

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Different Ways, Same Purpose, Ingat Ka Anak!

Mikayla (Kai) Linis

Graphic that I made based off of the things my parents tell me before I go to work, which is typically a closing shift

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how we die Kristen Baniaga

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Digital Art; Album cover for a playlist about the wide range of emotions experienced when losing a loved one

february 3, 2020 Anonymous

random short stories i wrote after trying to skate to capitola from campus.

I sit on a bench, that sits next to a whale. The whale is dead since it now lays as a statue. Little children sit on that whale singing while the world is quiet — only sometimes is there the noise from a car passing by. There is peace while the sun sets. From cheek to cheek, I smile. Another day I live. ...

I stand alone on a cliff-edge. Hard to walk still when there’s no ground underneath you. Now I stand on a moonrock that is above the sea. The waves crash like thunder; they ward the fishers away. Dogs walk the sand — sometimes alone, sometimes not. The sea foam makes a beautiful sound, a hiss... Hiss, hiss, hiss the waves say to me after the thunder roars. I say nothing back, I am only here to admire. ...

There is a seagull that says hello to me every morning catch. Sometimes he asks for a fish, and a fish he gets. It’s nice to have the gull here with me. It gets lonely at the coast most of the time. Gnats are here too, but they get annoying.

Buzzing their bodies into your business. I don’t want your company I say to the gnats. They come still, but frankly I don’t mind most of the time. I feel stuck, not only since I am trapped in this gulf, but also, I feel stuck to the past.

Chained, forever am I the product of who I was. Maybe I can change, maybe not. But while that happens, I’ll feed the gull, and we will listen to the waves crash together.

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Untitled

Gamliel Urlanda

Digital photography, taken outside the Rachel Carson dining hall

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more than besties Kristen

Watercolor

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cute dates Ricky Yang

film photography (on Ilford HP5)

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Inner

Sierra Caoili Poem in the iridescent recesses of memory there lies a pearl white as whalebone

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The Shoe

There the single shoe sat; there it laid on the rocks that laid near the stream. The sky was turning yellow and pink, so the deer who were there to forage decided to go back home, wherever home was. But before they headed back, they drank from the stream like men who drink to forget at night. Their heads raised up, and their bodies pointed back to home.

As they started to move, one stepped on the shoe, another bumped into them, while the herd stopped. The hoof got stuck into the shoe; like a marriage gone bad, the hoof and shoe wanted to seperate. But it’s gonna to take a lot more effort to leave than it was to connect.

The day got darker, and the deer tried to move on, it tried its best, but the shoe left an uncomfortable feeling — a feeling it’s never felt before. So then the deer stopped again, and another bumped into them, while the herd stopped.

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They tried to shake the shoe off. It didn’t work.

They tried to use their mouth. It didn’t work. They tried everything they could’ve thought of, but none of it worked. With nothing but frustration in their heart, they ran off into the dark depths of the forest. The herd watched them leave, and then headed back home.

The deer ran, and the shoe ran too. While the herd was sleeping, the lone doe was afraid. Not of the dark, or the monsters that hide in it, but of the shoe. For that it will not fucking leave them alone. So the deer stopped, and a wind bumped into them, reminding it that there was no herd to be stopped.

Anonymous short story

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Back Home Sierra Caoili Photo

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Restoration Robert Marmito

self portrait in my room

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Shades of Bl(u)e Yeli Daza

Acrylic on canvas, original poetry

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you go i go Ella Apuntar Digital art

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It’s Okay To...

And Don’t Forget To...

Because...

Mikayla Kai Linis Reassuring Notes 74

Across the Water Anonymous Photography 75

Oh Fudge Ryan Tran

Acrylic on Paper, Edited on PhotoShop 76

Throw It Into the Sea Kora Fortun

Digital calligraphy and illustration for a proverb translating to “Do good and throw it into the sea.”

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Watch it here:

Bayanihan Radio Chantel Gee

Digital, Filipino lofi for the soul

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累 tiny thunders

pen on paper, scanned

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٩(｀w´ ) ‫ و‬٩( `人´

) ‫ و‬٩(・ω・) ‫و‬

Lil Lion Rangers Markus Faye Portacio

Watercolor, Gouache, and some digital art details!

All these cute creatures were designed when I had an art slump. They were my pick me up that kept art fun when other pieces were being mean to me....

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holy carp!

Veronica Caryn Luz

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Colored pencil, paint pen, and fineliner on paper

Working Sunrise Luna Ant

Shot of sunrising at work for my morning shift

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Warmth

Chelsea Lindayen

Film photography and digital photography, taken Nov. 2018 84

Untitled

Gamliel Urlanda Digital photography

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There’s no more ashtrays in my front porch Aaron Guiz short story

Like a lot of things smoking was generational. My Grandpa did it in the front porch of our small apartment, and after he had died my father seemed to continue the tradition. Now he’s dying from lung cancer, and I’ve just started smoking weed. I need some sun I tell my parents, but it’s dark out and they’re both asleep so I just slip right past them into the night sky. The metal chair is cold on my warm skin. The moon looks small in the very big sky. I smell my father’s cigarettes and notice how there’s no more ashtrays in the front porch. I look down beneath my two feet, a spot of smudged black.

I wish I could see the stars tonight.

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rose-tinted sunglasses Deanne Presas

scene from a rose garden 87

Last February Samantha S.

iPhone photography 88

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my old dresser Aaron Guiz

picture of my dresser that i’ve had since i was a kid 90

Power Outage Picnic Veronica Caryn Luz

Photograph

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Keep Your Distance Sierra Caoili Photo 92

Samantha S. iPhone photography

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grandma’s kitchen Anonymous

photo of the kitchen i grew up with. grandma’s kitchen. late night.

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tiktilaok Ella Apuntar

My grandparents’ home in Baguio City 95

Simoy

Ysa Habon

Simoy (n): breeze, a gentle or soft wind 96

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Rise

Laura Gavia

This piece was meant to honor my roots as well as show appreciation to my parents and loved ones who helped me grow into the person I am today!

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sino ako Anonymous

poetry but more so thoughts in my head

sino ako? hindi ko alam (who am i? i don’t know) sino ako? hindi ko alam i am who i am,

and that is more than enough

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Probinsyana ca. 2021 Ryan Nachor

watercolor on watercolor paper 101

zoom!

Kristen Baniaga Photography 102

Sending My Love Chelsea Lindayen

Digital Art, a collection of valedictions in letters that have meant something to me at some point in my life.

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a conductor and their train Ricky Yang

film photography (on portra 800)

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Moments

Robert Marmito

“We’re Not Really Strangers” card game and a sunset 105

INDEX A A 32 Aaron Guiz 2, 49, 84, 88 Alay Alumni 6-15 Anael Banta 52 Anonymous 17-18, 48, 50, 51, 56, 57, 61, 66-67, 73, 92, 98 C Chantel Gee 76-77 Chelsea Lindayen 82, 101 D Deanne Presas 29, 85 E Ella Apuntar 71, 93 G Gamliel Urlanda 23, 62, 83 I Isang Himig 58 J jenbmo 24 josh 28 K Kora Fortun 75 Kristen 21, 63 Kristen Baniaga 60, 96-97

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L Laura Gavia 44-45, 100 Leslie Marquez 31 Lluvia Moreno 26-27 look i just work here 54-55 Luna Ant 19, 47, 81 M Mariah Peralta 34-35 Markus Faye Portacio 16, 79 Michael Sim 43 Mikayla (Kai) Linis 59, 72 Mikki Lim 42 R Ricky Yang 64, 102 Robert Marmito 39, 69, 103 Ryan Nachor 30, 46, 99 Ryan Tran 37, 74 S s. s. 38 Samantha S. 20, 91, 86-87 Sierra Caoili 22, 65, 68, 90 T Tati Martinez 36, 53 tiny thunders 40-41, 78 V Veronica Luz 25, 80, 89 Y Yeli Daza 70 Ysa Habon 94-95

(the index reflects page numbers in the printed version of the anthology)

THANK YOU / SALAMAT For making it this far! For spending all this time with me! For turning every page with such care! I’ll keep this memory close to my heart.

At nakarating ka sandaling ito! Sa panahong ako’y sinamahan mo! Sa marahan at maingat na pabuklat na bawat pahina! Ang mga alaalang ito, sa puso ko ay pagkakaingatan ko.

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