At a bridal shower I attended two weeks or so before the Philippine Week Committee (PWC) Fundraising Pageant, I spoke in defense of the organization to a known leader of its archrival, the PIWC. The lady commented that PWC shouldn’t be calling its contests beauty pageants because everyone knows it’s a money contest. Instead, they should call it popularity contest, she said. While I concurred to her description of the contest, I pointed out the one good thing about competing for the title as opposed to simply picking the queens. The girls who join the competition get to show off their talents, and to me, it is a big deal. There’s a world of difference between someone who has the guts and gift to perform and respond to an interview question before a panel of judges and a big audience and someone who simply promenades at the coronation gala knowing she already has the title and the crown.
That was my honest take on the subject then and it still is my take now, despite my beef with the recent PWC contest. The difference, however, is that I will never again encourage anyone to join in the PWC Miss Philippine Independence contest ever because of their obvious lack of transparency and their procedures that are faulty, unscientific and vulnerable to human frailties.
Despite having fielded one candidate for Miss Philippine Independence, PWC, each year for the past three years, I was only able to attend the latest pageant/coronation night last June 8th. Somehow, and for reasons I could no longer recall, Bart and I had always ended up going to the gala night instead.
So, I went there with my husband, feeling good that Isabelle Amponin, our candidate, was prepared to do her best to shine that evening. And shine she did, from the fashion parade to the talent portion and beyond. The girl’s charming smile never left her pretty face that night and her poise was consistent from beginning to the end of the contest. Everyone rooting for her thought she outdid herself and were certainly very pleased.
This is not to say I didn’t think she could lose. I knew and even told Isabelle and her parents that it was a fundraising pageant. That the best assurance she could have to win the title was to raise the most money she could possibly raise. I told them though that if the difference in the money was only small, even if she came in only second in money, her talent, interview and poise could still pull a victory for her. I was more optimistic then, until I found out that evening of the competition that money was 60% of the total score. The rest of the 40% was divided between talent and interview (20%) and Philippine terno (20%). Talk about MONEY CONTEST, nothing beats this one!
LACK OF TRANSPARENCY
Sunday, June 2nd was the candidates’ submission of all monies collected. Bart kept reminding me to call Isabelle’s mom that evening to see who won the money portion. To our surprise, she said she didn’t know. All she could tell was the money she turned in. The way they did it was, each parent of the candidate would go separately into a room with only 3 people in it (Pageant Chair Alice Ramos, Board of Director Jun Ramos and the Treasurer). They counted the money, placed it in an envelope, “sealed” the envelope with the remitter’s signature on top of it). The candidate’s parent leaves the room and the next parent comes in and does the same. The envelopes are “opened only” during the coronation night, when the parents are each called to the podium to open their respective envelopes.
According to Isabelle’s mom, the so-called sealed envelope can be opened without breaking any seal to show it’s been tampered with. And why, may I ask, weren’t the candidates’ parents all present in the counting of the monies collected? The proper and transparent procedure would have been to have all the parents or their representatives present in the room before, during and after the counting of each candidate’s collection. Every parent or representative should know that same night of the counting where he or she stands in the money portion of the contest. Funny thing is, no one seems to know up to now how much all the candidates have given except the three people mentioned earlier. Not even the overall chair of the event, Lisa Vasich knows. Manang Thelma Fuentes, the Chairman of the Board, doesn’t know either. Pray tell, Alice, Jun and Mrs. Fernandez, why big secret? Why keep the information from those who deserve to know?
To say that PWC doesn’t follow the above procedure to avoid discouraging the candidates who are still competing for the other 40% of the contest is pure and simple baloney! They joined in knowing it was a fundraising contest and they had no problem with it. What they had a problem with was not knowing how they fared in all aspects of the competition. HOW WAS THE 60% ASSIGNED AND APPORTIONED? TRUE, YOU’D GIVE 60% TO THE HIGHEST FUNDRAISER, BUT WHAT PERCENTAGES DID THE 2ND, 3RD AND 4TH RUNNERS UP GET? DID YOU FOLLOW ANY MATHEMATICAL FORMULA TO COMPUTE THE MONEY SCORES FOR THE RUNERS UP? These questions beg immediate answers.
Years ago Al Bascos thought of a clever way to raise funds for FACC (Filipino American Council of Chicago) by tying the (now that I thought about it) stupid B votes with donations to be raised by the candidates, the exact mechanics of which I have already forgotten. Wishing to help FACC, Manang Thelma Fuentes ran for President against Bascos’ favored candidate, Rey Sapnu. A rising community leader then, Manang Thelma was at the height of her popularity, raising more than a hundred thousand dollars worth of B votes from friends and supporters, which Bart painstakingly tallied and documented in a computerized report to turn in on the evening of the counting. But what do you know? That same night, Bascos and his appointed COMELEC blindsided us with a change of rules – asking both candidates, Fuentes and Sapnu to turn in the money without counting them. The money will be given to then FACC Treasurer, the late Manang Mary Acierto to be counted in the presence of the both candidates a week after -a shameless, desperate act of a party that knew it would lose in a fair and clean election. Manang Thelma took her money and walk away from the stench of it all and never again came back.
Where is FACC today? Ruined and lost in obsolescence. None but the very small core of Bascos supporters now inhabit a building that would have been fit to condemn if not for the nursing review classes still going on there.
Without reforming itself, PWC, it seems to me, is headed in the same direction.
POST SCRIPT
After all that I’ve said, there’s one good thing I will not forget about this contest – it’s the way those girls, all five of them went out there and performed their best: Katelyn Jankowiak, who danced so the Pandango sa Ilaw so gracefully, Rosemary Perez and her fine rendition of “Sayaw sa Banga,” the talented drummer, Ardelle Tolentino, calisthenics performer, Hannah Marigomen (or did I interchange the two?) and our Isabelle who stunned the audience with her flawless rendition of the song, Fly Me to the Moon. Congratulations, Girls! You are all winners in our eyes. But I wish you got more than just an applause. A second title and trophy in recognition of your individual talents from the organization would have been nice and thoughtful.
I also think Delfin Masangcay’s choreography deserves commendation. The fashion show and dance number featuring the candidates were well done.