During the early part of the First Semester of Academic Year 2017-2018, Sam*, an Ateneo student, was sexually mistreated at a required National Service Training Program (NSTP) overnight engagement, leading to investigations on immersion protocol and the formator in charge.

The student has since claimed a lack of swift action from the Office of Social Concern and Involvement (OSCI). Sam’s blockmates have also come forward with their stories about the immersion, recounting logistic lapses, catcalling, and gunshot sounds heard on site.

The incident**

The engagement took place at an urban poor community. According to Sam, everyone in the NSTP block was assigned to a community household owned by a designated “foster family.” Sam’s assigned family, however, only learned that the block was to stay overnight when they had already arrived at the area. Unprepared, the foster family redirected Sam, who also had a partner, to the house of a relative in the community.

They arrived at the house while a birthday party was being celebrated. The house owner offered the two students alcohol, to which they obliged out of “pakikisama” (getting along), despite University policy dissuading drinking during immersion. Later, the house owner and his best friend, who would be staying overnight, informed the students that they would all be sharing one bed.

They slept around midnight. “Me and my partner, we really made space in the bed. We stayed beside the backrest so that we could leave space for them. We really made it clear.”

At around 3:40 AM, while the two students were asleep, the owner’s intoxicated friend roused Sam. “He was in between me and my partner, lying down, using his phone. I found it so weird, because we already left space […] [He] started leaning towards my leg,” Sam recounts. “At first […] I didn’t mind [but] after a while he started [placing] his head on my stomach. I tried to shift my body, […] but he wouldn’t leave.”

Sam told the owner’s friend, “Sorry, medyo mabigat ka po (You’re a bit heavy),” but he ignored it. Later, the assailant placed his hand under his head and crept his fingers onto Sam’s crotch area. The student tried to shift away once more, but the assailant persisted.

“That’s when I sat up [on] the bed, and I didn’t say anything at first, […] He still kept reaching out for my crotch area,” Sam recounts. “I said to him, ‘Stop, stop! You’re being inappropriate. I’m going to tell my teacher if you don’t stop.’” Sam’s partner, passed out from the alcohol, did not stir despite the altercation. Undeterred, the assailant continued to reach for the student’s crotch.

He showed Sam a pornographic video on his phone—a penis penetrating a vagina. “Malaki, ‘no? (Big, isn’t it?)” the assailant asked. Sam did not bother to oblige him and looked away. “Bakit hindi ka nanunuod? (Why aren’t you watching?)” “Ayoko (I don’t want to watch),” Sam responded. The assailant showed Sam another video, though the student refused once more. “Okay lang, manood ka (It’s okay. Go watch),” he urged.

The student continued rebuffing the offender, who nonetheless persisted in showing pornographic videos and asking inappropriate questions about the student’s body.

After a while, the house’s owner went to check on the guests and saw that Sam was awake. Sam recalls the owner telling his friend, “Okay, go down na. You’re being annoying. [Sam’s] already awake.” The assailant then left the room. “Why don’t you sleep na? He won’t bother you anymore,” the owner told Sam. “I’ll just be on my phone and watch TV,” Sam responded. The owner found this strange given the time.

The owner probed, “What did [my friend] do to you?” “Nothing,” Sam answered. The owner, intoxicated himself, raised his voice: “What did he do to you?” “He touched me,” Sam said.

The house’s owner was shocked and embarrassed. “I would never let something like that happen,” said the owner, “and that’s my best friend, but there really is something wrong with him.” He apologized repeatedly. “It’s not your fault,” replied Sam.

The owner’s friend apologized later as well—albeit disingenuously, says Sam. “Sorry, ha?” the assailant told Sam with a flirtatious lilt. “Are you mad at me?” the assailant continued. “No, forget about it already,” Sam replied.

System lapses

The following day, Sam’s family reported the incident. “I told my mom about it…[she] contacted [my department chair].”  The chair instructed them to write a letter to OSCI Director Leland Dela Cruz, PhD, which they sent the next morning. The letter contained details of the incident and stated that Sam’s family would no longer allow their child to any out-of-campus activities. “We hope you can handle the issue seriously to prevent any similar future incidents,” the letter indicated.

According to Sam, OSCI was “very slow” in delivering an apology. OSCI’s reply letter, sent a day after Sam’s, merely said that they were working with their partner LGU communities on the issue. Dela Cruz states however that they informed their partner non-government organization (NGO) the day after the incident happened, and the NGO, in turn, informed the partner community.

According to Dela Cruz, OSCI protocol dictates that the professional formator involved in any untoward incident must report to the director at least 12 hours after it has come to their knowledge. OSCI then consults with its external partners. Afterwards, it offers the student guidance services from the Loyola Schools Office of Guidance and Counseling. The professional then asks the student if they want to submit a written report. They then offer the student assistance if the latter wants to take further action against someone from outside the University.  

Dela Cruz insists that OSCI responded swiftly upon receiving a verbal report of the incident on the day it happened. Dela Cruz immediately asked the Office of the Associate Dean for Student Formation (OADSF) to investigate the matter. The OADSF agreed the same day and secured the commitment of a dedicated guidance counselor to administer Sam’s therapy. Dela Cruz also says that OSCI replied to the student’s parents the day after receiving their letter and expressed deep regret for the incident.

Furthermore, Dela Cruz expresses hesitance in using the term “sexual harassment” in the legal sense when referring to this case. He points out that the Civil Code of the Philippines provides a limited definition of sexual harassment.

Republic Act 7877, or the Anti-Sexual Harassment Act of 1995, only recognizes sexual harassment as an act committed by a “person who, having authority, influence or moral ascendancy over another in a work or training or education environment, demands, requests or otherwise requires any sexual favor from the other.” It therefore fails to encapsulate all harassment cases which do not conform to these provisions, including Sam’s.

Sam also claims that the immersion had numerous logistic lapses. For instance, Sam says that many of the foster households were chosen on the spot. “They just got the signature of the families [to take us in],” Sam says. “Our formator was really incompetent […] He was an hour late [to the engagement]. When we would go […] into the jeep, he wouldn’t do a headcount. When we arrived at the barangay, he didn’t pay the jeepney drivers after 3:00 […] He wouldn’t reply to a lot of our text concerns.”

This formator arranged for a meeting with Sam along with other OSCI stakeholders after the incident. Sam says that the formator was 20 minutes late because of a conflicting meeting, adding to Sam’s disgruntlement. “[OSCI] was very unprofessional in the way they handled [my case],” says Sam. During the meeting, Sam pointed out that the area engagement was “badly planned” and that OSCI should take action, to which OSCI agreed.

After the meeting, however, Sam felt that “[OSCI] didn’t know it was their fault […] or they didn’t want to admit it was their fault.” Sam then decided to take action, drafting a letter with their lawyers. It was only after issuing the letter that Sam felt OSCI took the case “on a serious note.” Sam, Sam’s parents, Dela Cruz, and Associate Dean for Student Formation Roberto Conrado “Bobby” Guevara, PhD then sat down for a meeting, accompanied by their respective lawyers.

Dela Cruz says that they promised to provide assistance to Sam were a case to be brought against a person from the community. During the meeting, Guevara made an apology to Sam on the school’s behalf. The University also agreed to shoulder the cost of Sam’s therapy at the Bulatao Center.

Moreover, University President Jose Ramon Villarin, SJ, wrote a letter to Sam and invited the student, along with the student’s parents, to meet with him. Sam informed Villarin of the immersion’s logistic concerns.

Area concerns**

Sam’s experience, however, was not the only troubling one during the immersion. Lily***, one of their blockmates, recounts how she, along with two other students, had to move houses twice because the first two were full. “[We weren’t] really sure if the houses were checked,” she says, “Once we got there they were just randomly asking [who could take students in for the night].”

The house they finally settled in was across a sari-sari store where people were drinking. Whenever the three girls would sit in front of the house, they would get catcalled by onlookers throwing sexually-fueled comments like “Uy, puwede bang ligawan yan? (Can I court that girl?).” Sam notes that others also said, “Di puwede hawakan yan, tingin lang (You can look but you can’t touch).”

Lily adds that when she would contact their formator during the engagement, he would not reply, leading her to fear that he might not arrive on time in case of emergency. Her mom, along with another parent, complained to OSCI, but Lily says that the office “took it lightly,” not acting with urgency.

Lily shares another blockmate’s incident that occurred in the same immersion. Her blockmate’s mother specifically requested the formator put her daughter in an all-female home, to which he initially agreed. Despite this, the girl was assigned to a household with a middle-aged man and a teenage boy. The formator asked the girl whether she told her mom, though she said he asked her in a tone that suggested she keep quiet. Sam confirms that the formator “hinted to my blockmate [not to] tell her parents about it,” adding that “he didn’t even apologize.”

Dela Cruz has declined to comment on this incident as an investigation was ongoing at the time of the interview. The formator involved also declined an interview, citing the same reason.

Another of Sam’s blockmates, Carmen***, was also catcalled. The student fell on muddy ground, staining her jeans with dirt, after which a man went up to her and said, “Ate, punasan kita (Miss, let me wipe you off),” in a sexual tone. She wanted to strike him in self-defense, but held back in an effort to appear welcoming to the community.

That night, Carmen was awoken at 2:00 AM by screaming. She shrugged it off, thinking that it must have been coming from children outside. The next day, she found out that there had been gunshots heard from a supposed extra-judicial killing. She also learned that there were gunshots heard a week before in the same area.

Sam also mentions the gunshot incident: “It seemed like any urban poor place you would see around Manila, but I found it off when our foster parents told us that someone got shot last week because of EJKs. Apparently that place was a drug hotspot. There were a lot of drug addicts around the community. They would come out at 4:00 AM […] and do illegal stuff. There’d be EJK killings. [My blockmates] only found out [about this] when they were interviewing their foster parents. [The formator] just told us that one of the main problems was pollution.”

Carmen also states that “[The formator] was never present in our area, […] he only visited us when we were about to leave. […] It got me thinking, […] who were we supposed to depend on the whole time?” She further states that the experience has “traumatized” her, making her hesitant to get involved in future immersions. Dela Cruz has declined to comment on the gunshots heard in the area due to the investigation.

OSCI protocol

Sam, Lily, and Carmen demanded that the University apologize to their entire block, citing OSCI’s disorganization and the precariousness of the immersion logistics as grounds. Dela Cruz states that Guevara and Lara Chuavon, the OSCI team leader, met with the block, checked up on the students, discussed preliminary findings, and talked about ways to move forward.

He also says that the University has “Gender Violence in the Public Sphere” workshops as part of the NSTP program, which tackles scenarios of harassment and ways students may respond.

Dela Cruz adds that OSCI professionals conduct site investigations to identify areas that will provide “rich learning experiences” while ensuring student safety. During these visits, OSCI determines possible host families and explains the nature of its immersion program through a parents’ orientation. Partner communities may be identified through recommendations from other organizations and institutions.

Immersions in the Ateneo have been standard practice since the 1990s and, according to Dela Cruz, evaluations show that Ateneans have found their immersion to be a “meaningful experience,” rating the program higher than other NSTP forms. Nonetheless, Dela Cruz says that the University’s investigation on the matter was “thorough” and will lead to improved policies, practices, and protocols.

After the case was brought to OSCI, the block’s formator was replaced. Sam states that “[the formator] was suspended from any work that involved students,” and that the investigation on this formator had to be concluded before OSCI could issue a public apology for the incident. Dela Cruz also mentions that after the incident, “senior professionals always oversaw the area engagements of the relevant sections.”

On January 28, a memo signed by Villarin was released, publicly apologizing for the incident and acknowledging that a formal investigation “revealed some gaps in the implementation of the immersion.”

The memo stated that the school is currently determining “the appropriate disciplinary action against the concerned employee.” In addition, a Task Force has been formed to review all the immersion programs in the University.

According to Dela Cruz, the “formal investigation” referred to by Villarin was an initial investigation led by the Loyola Schools Conduct Committee, who eventually recommended that the case be further probed by the University Disciplinary Action Committee and the Office of Human Resources Management and Organizational Development. This second investigation aimed to determine what disciplinary action, if any, would be taken against the formator.

Sam says that the formator received a 30-day suspension from work after Villarin’s memo was released. As of June 2018 however, OSCI has confirmed that the concerned employee is still an NSTP formator for the second semester of SY 2017-2018. Dela Cruz declines to comment citing privacy considerations, simply stating that the school implemented the recommendations of the investigation.

As of the writing of this article, Sam states that there have been “no significant legal proceedings,” as no case has been filed in court.

EDITOR’S NOTES:

*Details of the incident, including the student’s real name, gender, block, and course, as well as the formator’s name, immersion site, and partner community have been withheld at the request of the interviewee to protect their identity.

**The version of the events during this immersion come from Sam and Sam’s blockmates as recounted to The GUIDON. As mentioned, Dela Cruz and the OSCI formator involved have declined to comment citing the ongoing investigation and privacy concerns.

***Students’ real names have been withheld at their request to protect their identity.