By Adrianne Coloma

By Reanna Cornejo

Bubbles drift upward into the night, fragile and luminous, briefly catching the neon wash of the stage lights before dissolving into the dark sky above the Ateneo campus. Someone holds a strip of freshly printed photobooth pictures like a keepsake, already aged with happy memories. Bouquets from the flea market stalls rest in students’ palms, petals brushing against wrists as they walk. High above the field on the octopus ride, bodies lean back as the machine pauses at its peak, suspending everyone between ground and sky for a brief, breathless second where all you can do is look: at the constellation of heads below you, at the lights trembling overhead, at the vastness of the night and to feel, fleetingly and fully, the strange grace of being exactly where you are.

The fair is loud, but what it creates is quiet belonging. In academic years constantly marked by deadlines and constant forward motion, the Fair arrives every year as a pause, a gathering, and a collective breath of relief.

The Symbols of Siklo

This year’s theme, “Siklo”, presents itself as a constellation of meanings, where each student carries something different into its orbit. Across the fairgrounds, that theme finds its way into moments both grand and simple. It’s there in the repetition of practices: the opening program that Ateneo never quite lets go of, the performances that draw crowds back year after year, the rides that spin endlessly under the night sky. It’s also there in the smaller gestures: friends meeting again after weeks of academic rigor, seniors retracing paths they walked in previous fairs, juniors discovering what it means to be carried by this collective joy.

Louis Yu, a Grade 11 fairgoer, reflects on how the narrative drawn from the Bakunawa folktale and its themes of courage and hope feel apt for the Senior High School experience. He speaks of recognizing weakness with faith, of believing that light waits at the end of long tunnels. “For me as a student, I feel like it’s wonderful that the fair embodies that kind of theme,” he remarked. It reminds students like him that cycles continue, that light returns.

Another student, who preferred to remain unnamed, observes that the Fair is a rare moment when the ASHS is allowed and encouraged to be actively involved in hands-on experiences. The Fair does not ask for stillness; it invites motion. Unlike assemblies or programs where we are asked to sit still and listen, the Fair is an open space for participation and movement. “It’s a time when you can exert your freedom as a student,” they described. It is a time when you are able to wander, to decide, to exert your own kind of agency. It is a gentle loosening in an often structured school environment.

Another fairgoer, John Zachary Agnes, points to Bluelapalooza as where he finds light returning: students performing for students, talent rising from within the community itself. Where bands play, voices rise, and suddenly the crowd is no longer fragmented by strand, year level, or role. Where stage lights flicker against the night, illuminating joyful faces transformed by music. “It showcases the various talents of the bands and students inside the ASHS,” he vocalizes. “I think that’s full of Atenean pride.” 

Students do not interpret “Siklo” in all the same ways; some carry hope into it. Some carry relief. Some carry the simple desire to enjoy. But all of them leave with the feeling that something has been restored. An anonymous interviewee captures this sentiment clearly: “In Fair, there is something for everyone.” 

Spoken Between Music and Motion

To walk through the Fair as a fairgoer is to be carried by delight. To walk through it as an organizer is to carry the weight of making that delight possible. 

Behind the scenes, Adrian Rodulfo speaks of time as the Fair’s foundational currency. As a former Fair core member, he understands how much of the event is built on sacrifice; hours taken from studying or rest, redirected instead toward sponsorships, logistics, and literal labor. For him, the moment everything clicked was not during the noise of the fair but at its quiet beginning. “When I saw everything actually set up, that was the moment,” he describes. How the sight of abstract ideas materializing into colored tents and organized pathways made the months of effort worthwhile.

“Seeing it all happen today … everything being implemented and all the different committees working,” he muses. There is a quiet pride in his voice when he calls it a privilege to understand how the Fair operates from within. “As soon as I started my shift today, I realized that joining Faircomm is worth it.”

Roman Tabayoyong echoes that sentiment, emphasizing how expectations obscure effort. People arrive with assumptions about what the fair should be, rarely considering the time and coordination required to meet them. “Everyone had a lot of different expectations for the Fair, and that’s not done in a snap. It takes a lot of work,” he shares. “People think it’s taxing — and it is, but it has been quite fun. It feels rewarding when you see the happiness on people’s faces.” For him, being in Faircomm means you get to meet new people, to socialize with those you work with, and to see firsthand the happiness on people’s faces. That happiness, he says, is what makes it worth it. Those memories will last. Richard Cabotag, having served in security and logistics in past years, also remembers the tiredness that coexists with enjoyment, the way fatigue fades when you see people genuinely happy. 

From the perspective of promotions and marketing, Elouise Rodriguez describes an eye-opening awakening to the importance of discernment for even the smallest of details. A single post, a minor design choice, a carefully worded caption — each plays a part in shaping how the fair is experienced long before students even step onto the fairgrounds.

The way they experience the Fair is instead founded on labor, intention, and care. Their perspectives are shaped not only by what is seen but what has been prepared invisibly, hours and days before the first stage light gets propped up into the night. 

Year After Year

The Ateneo Senior High School Fair exists within a long timeline of tradition, adapting to shifting cultures while holding fast to its core purpose. Anticipation is part of the cycle. Batches change. Interests evolve. But the promise of the fair remains. Students return to it each year carrying new stresses, new friendships, new versions of themselves. And each year, the fair receives them the same way.

Students look forward to the Fair not because it resists change, but because it absorbs it; becoming a mirror of who the community is right now. For John Zachary Agnes, the fair arrives as a necessary counterbalance to academic life, especially for juniors still adjusting and seniors already preparing to leave. It is a moment of togetherness that offers rest without guilt, joy without justification. “I think the fair emphasizes aspects of community and the togetherness of people,” he remarks. “It shows how the community can come together to create truly wonderful memories.” An anonymous interviewee frames it as collective permission to live, to take a break, to make up for the times when self-care was postponed in lieu of productivity. Trends may shift, music tastes may change, themes may evolve, but the need for this once-in-a-year pause endures.

As the night deepens and the lights begin to dim, another truth of the fair comes into focus: fundraising, when tied to celebration, transforms obligation into generosity. It allows students to give not through sacrifice alone, but through shared happiness. The Fair becomes proof that celebration and service need not be separate acts.

In this way, the Fair in all its color and noise, becomes an act of faith in its students, in tradition, in the belief that light multiplies when shared. It is a space where students rediscover light within pressure. Where freedom and structure coexist. Where unseen labor turns into visible joy. Where tradition returns year after year, carrying new batches into the same shared experience.

The Ateneo Senior High School Fair gathers people. It gathers effort. It gathers light. And in that gathering, the community sees itself.