The striking thing about Shamcey Supsup at the Miss Universe pageant was not so much her beauty, as her mind.
“Bb. Pilipinas has some of the loveliest ladies as contestants,” says lawyer Charlemagne Yu, president of Empire East and one of the judges. “Everything being equal, the question on my mind was: Who had that distinct personality that allowed her to project her inner beauty and intelligence to make our country proud in an international pageant?”
When I asked the women in my class if they would rather have beauty or brains, most opted for the latter. So did the men. Their reasons were telling.
“Girls who are not happy with how they look can always do makeup or plastic surgery,” said one guy, “but girls who cannot think well—no pill or operation can change that.”
“What is the use of courting a beautiful girl,” added another, “if you cannot talk to her at all? After (enjoying the) bragging rights, ahem, what will you do afterwards?”
But this is Ateneo, where nerds rule.
In the age of women’s liberation, these all sound politically correct. Women are supposed to be the equal of men. In a male-dominated world, they are supposed to focus on performance rather than looks.
But, just as nerds suffer from stereotyping, so do beauties.
Beauty bias
Once, a student told me, “When you announced that I got (a) high (score) in the math exam, some classmates could not believe it. Some even thought I cheated! I cried about it.”
This student was not only diligent and smart. She was also pretty. A part-time model, she balanced work and studies with aplomb.
“Most girls would want to have your problem,” I told her. “You seem to have it all.”
“I can’t help the way I look,” she said, “but people think I am just a brainless bimbo, and it hurts.”
She was right, of course. It was a reality in a world filled with envy and insecurity. So I told the class that several students were both good-looking and smart. These two traits, I said, were not mutually exclusive.
Lia and Chris
Lia Andanar, Binibining Pilipinas International, is elegant and statuesque.
Seated on the front row of my finite mathematics class decades ago, Lia was the model student. Always ready, Lia never cut class and she participated actively, solving problems on the board many times.
Classmates knew who she was, but nobody talked about her beauty queen days. She was treated as just another student. Lia worked hard, and got a high mark at the end of the semester.
Years later, Lia invited me to guest on her show to talk about math.
I decline most invitations to appear on television or radio because, frankly, most hosts do not research. They ask questions that make you cringe. “I hate math,” said one proudly, giggling. “So what can I say?”
I was tempted to give a biting retort, along the lines of “math does not hate you.” And I was supposed to change her into a math whiz in a few minutes. Impossible! So I have learned not to waste my time.
But Lia was different. I could not refuse. We had a stimulating exchange of ideas on her show.
We have remained in touch even after she left school. She is a Yu now, and her son and mine are in the same school. Her son is doing well, which does not surprise me considering the importance Lia gives to learning.
Chris Tiu was my student in calculus some years back. He sat in the back. Soft-spoken and gentle, the first thing he told me was, “My mom knows you.”
He never mentioned his star status, and neither did his classmates. Chris had almost perfect attendance, skipping classes only during UAAP games, which did not matter since he was also on the dean’s list.
We had discussions on how he could best juggle sports and academics, but what struck me most was that Chris never asked for special favors. He never asked to postpone or cancel any examination—of course, I made sure that long tests did not fall on days when there were UAAP games—and he worked hard.
He got a good grade at the end of the semester and he eventually graduated with pride for completing one of the university’s toughest courses.
Chris and I also keep in touch. His younger brother and my son are batch mates. “A good athlete,” my son says of his friend, “but, more importantly, a good person.” High praise.
Last year, when I gave a talk at Chris’ village association, I was touched that he took the time to introduce me to the crowd. He had just returned from an international tournament, and we (including his mom) were able to catch up afterwards.
In May, I met former beauty queen Joyce Burton-Titular. Not only is she not afraid of math, but she also topped her class in physics! All because of her math and science teacher.
(Next week: A beauty queen falls in love with her physics teacher)
E-mail the author at blessbook@yahoo.com.