On a Tuesday that began with pounding feet and ended with prayer and applause, Palawan State University marked its 60th Charter Day like a family would mark the birthday of its oldest living relative — with joy, with stories, with reverence, and just a little competitive spirit.
There was a fun run, but it wasn’t just for fun. A Zumba session, not just for health. There was a motorcade to celebrate the school’s latest board exam topnotchers — Sherilyn V. Cordova and Niscelle E. Sagucio — but that, too, felt more like a proud village clapping for its own. And in some ways, that’s what PalawanSU has always been: a village with classrooms.
Back when the university was a fledgling institution with more borrowed chairs than enrolled students, no one could have imagined what it would become. Now, its campuses sprawl from north to south of the province. And on its 60th year, the school didn’t just look back — it dug deep into its roots.
The day started in sneakers, moved into uniforms — ROTC cadets lining up for their 420th Tactical Inspection — then slipped into silence for the Thanksgiving Worship and Catholic Mass. Worship wasn’t an afterthought; it was central. “To soar is to look up,” someone whispered near the back pew.
Later, a concrete and steel sculpture was unveiled: the Pagbanwak Marker. Named after the Cuyonon word for “to ascend,” it stands not far from where old admin buildings once stood on stilts. Architect Jefferson Bulan, who designed the marker and also serves as Dean of the College of Architecture and Design, said he wanted something that reminded people that “growth is movement — but it’s also memory.”
Memory is a fitting word for the Time Capsule Exhibit that followed — a series of photographs, letters, and relics that told the story of how PalawanSU became what it is now. From typewritten enrollment sheets to a faded uniform from the ’80s, the exhibit didn’t just document a university; it documented a generation.
Outside, the RDE Expo and Seaweed Festival buzzed with energy, part science fair, part farmers’ market, part local reunion. A MOA signing happened there, in between lectures and seafood tastings. It was that kind of day — serious, casual, sacred, familiar.
Then came “Magbaragat Bagat Kita sa PalawanSU,” where municipal representatives from both the northern and southern campus clusters displayed their local wares. It wasn’t just an exhibit. It was Palawan showing itself to itself, through seaweed and woven mats, honey jars and fish sauce, all laid out under tents flapping in the wind.
Lunch was a boodle fight — long banana leaves, heaps of rice, grilled fish, laughter — the kind of shared meal where everyone reaches for something at once and somehow no one goes hungry.
Later that afternoon, the faculty held their General Assembly, a quiet end to a noisy, heartfelt day. And as the sun dipped low, the campus exhaled.
That evening, the Gawad Parangal at Pasasalamat brought together the institution’s past and present. Held at Holiday Suites, the awards night recognized pioneering leaders, retirees, and partners who had helped shape PalawanSU’s 60-year history. Speeches were short, applause was long. Some cried. Others posed proudly beside plaques they’d waited a lifetime to receive.
The celebration is over now. But its story continues, not just in structures or ceremonies, but in the quiet conviction that a university born on the margins can, indeed, banwak. It can soar. And it will.