10/10/2025
Resilience, Memory, and the Value of What Stands Still: A personal reflection on what happened a while ago
—
A while ago, Davao City experienced another earthquake. Thankfully, everyone around me is safe. But as the ground shook, it also stirred something in me — a realization about our built environment, and how much our spaces can tell us about time, resilience, and sustainability.
Our school building, though old, held up relatively well. There were some visible cracks here and there, but nothing that caused panic or harm. No falling ceiling panels, no debris hitting students. It’s an old structure that has seen and survived many earthquakes — and this time, it stood firm once again.
What struck me was hearing how a newly opened university nearby, despite being modern and recently built, suffered more visible damage. Some ceiling panels fell, and a few students were injured. It made me pause and think — how could something new, designed with modern technology, show such fragility, while something old endured with quiet strength?
Of course, I’m not here to discredit modern innovations or question structural engineering — that’s far from my intention. I’m speaking simply as an observer and designer. What I realized is that perhaps sustainability doesn’t always mean building something new or “better.” Sometimes, it means valuing what already exists — recognizing that older structures carry both material integrity and cultural memory that are worth preserving.
In my master’s studies, we’ve been discussing conservation, preservation, and restoration — how these aren’t just about maintaining old buildings, but about practicing sustainability in the truest sense. By preserving and restoring what we already have, we reduce waste, honor craftsmanship, and keep the stories embedded in those spaces alive. Old structures may show age, but with care and proper restoration, they can continue to serve and inspire future generations.
This also made me think of Victoria Plaza, Davao’s first mall, which is set for redevelopment. It may not be flawless — it has cracks and clear signs of wear — but for many Davaoeños, it holds a lifetime of memories. It’s not just a building; it’s part of our shared story. Replacing it entirely feels like erasing a piece of our city’s memory, when perhaps it could be restored, adapted, or reborn into something that still honors its past.
At the heart of it, this experience reminded me that sustainability is not always about creating something new. It’s also about preserving the life and meaning of what already stands. Because sometimes, resilience isn’t measured by how modern a structure is — but by how well it continues to hold space for people, stories, and time itself.
