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I recently received a tracer survey for the DOST-SEI scholar graduates to understand how their scholarship programs empower and support Filipino researchers like me. It gave me time to reflect on my journey as a scholar—from undergraduate to master’s—and even as a Science Research Specialist and MS Research Fellow, all funded by the department. Looking back to where I started and where I am today, truly, DOST-SEI helped shape and build my career as a researcher.

To aspiring Filipino researchers like me, I want to share my story—where I began and how I have evolved into the researcher I am now. Even when you feel you are financially constrained to reach what you dreamed of becoming, don’t lose hope, because the DOST-SEI has become an instrument for me, and it could be for you too.

Note: not all DOST-SEI graduates became researchers like me, and that’s okay. They’ve held/are holding positions that have helped with nation-building.

How I became a DOST-SEI scholar

I was born in 1994, raised single-handedly by my mom, who became a widow just a month after she gave birth to me. As a solo parent, she only wants what’s best for her two daughters. She worked hard, taking only one day off every week, so she could provide for our needs and prepare for our college.

When my sister took nursing, I remember how Mama Belen really tried to make ends meet—juggling her daytime job with selling at work whatever she could find, which fortunately her boss allowed given her status as a widow. Nursing was an expensive course to take in the Philippines, and it has bared my mother dry. Unbeknownst to our immediate families, my mother really poured her life just so we could finish college.

Because of our six-year sibling gap, I was able to witness the hardship my mother went through just so she could send my sister to nursing school (yes, this was the time when there was an upsurge in nursing students nationwide). While I was still in my sixth grade, my mother proactively inquired (through our neighbors) about the requirements needed to apply for the Department of Science and Technology (DOST) Scholarship. And that’s even still four years away! My mother really does plan ahead—way ahead. She strongly believes that if I could just get this scholarship, she would at least have the certainty that I could go to college and would be able to give her financial relief. Perhaps she needed the solace and knowing ahead gives her the comfort she desires. So, even in first-year high school, I was primed to take this scholarship to help my mother financially.

While writing this, I brought it up at family dinner—how Mama Belen never thought of the possibility of me not getting the scholarship. Looking back, she said she never really thought about it that way. What she had in mind was simpler: that I take the exam, so she wouldn’t have to keep bearing the financial burden alone. It’s strange to me now that she never had a fallback plan. I’ll be forever grateful to Mama Belen, who first believed I had what it takes, and who had faith that the Lord would provide for her needs.

In my fourth year of high school, Mama Belen brought me to the DOST-SEI satellite office so we could inquire about the type of scholarship I’m eligible for (RA 7687 Scholarship), the requirements, and the possible courses I could take. So we already knew what we needed to prepare even before my high school announced that DOST would hold a scholarship exam at our school, open only to STEM students.

My choice of degree was mainly motivated by the scholarship, narrowed to the courses DOST would cover. But three things, in particular, pulled me toward electrical engineering specifically. The first was my uncle Eden, an electrical engineer. I wanted to reach the financial level he had—and beyond that, I had a quieter dream of eventually buying land and becoming a farmer, like my grandparents, once I had the means.

The second reason was less noble: I wanted out of high school drama. An EE student I asked told me the program had very few women, which made it seem like the perfect place to focus my studies instead. I was right. Spending five years in college, mostly with the boys, was fun and chill.

The third reason mattered most: after watching An Inconvenient Truth, I wanted to be part of the climate solution. I didn’t know exactly how electrical engineering would get me there, but I was convinced it would open the door to becoming an energy researcher. So before I even sat the DOST exam, I already knew what I’d study in college. And perhaps having a story to guide my decisions also helped me find my way through the other side of it.

As a STEM student, I had the training I needed for the exam. But I don’t think it measured what you’d expect since only two of us from our school passed, three from our entire province. People I assumed would pass, including some from an economic background similar to mine, didn’t. I’m grateful to have been aligned with whatever the exam was actually looking for, and I can’t imagine how my undergraduate years would have gone without it.

Like most aptitude tests, relying solely on classwork wasn’t enough. I read voraciously, believing books would give me ideas I wouldn’t encounter in school. My exposure to puzzles, Legos, and problem-solving at a young age trained me to think abstractly, while writing and speaking gave me the interpersonal and intrapersonal skills that round out creative reasoning.

I’d like to think that preparing for an exam like the DOST scholarship requires a kind of lifelong preparation—something I later confirmed with my EE classmates Myla, Kevin, and Edmund, who were also DOST scholars. They each carried their own version of a poverty story, and none of them let it keep them from becoming the professionals they wanted to be. DOST was the instrument that got them there, and now we’re all contributing to nation-building. My gratitude to DOST-SEI isn’t just personal—it belongs to all four of us.

My story is just one small window into what the DOST scholarship has meant to people like us—those from financially constrained families who saw it as the door to college, to becoming professionals, to getting out of poverty. Myla, Kevin, and Edmund each carry their own version of this story, and if you knew theirs, you’d understand even more about how this scholarship can change a life.

What it was like as a DOST scholar in college

Even during the scholarship orientation, when the department explained the rules of the award and the service obligation we have to render after college, we were primed to serve our country and be part of nation-building. And for five years of yearly team building, my sense of community strengthened and reinforced my heart to serve the Filipinos and the Philippines. Such activities also broadened my worldview about our role in advancing our country’s research and development.

From experience, I learned that the DOST scholarship isn’t just an award; it’s also a status with expectations attached. As scholars in the Department of Science and Technology, we were expected to uphold standards, especially since we had a grade to maintain. And like a feedback loop, we became what was expected of us.

I would have wanted to complete my degree without failing a single subject. I failed one—electronics—which knocked me out of sequence with my peers for a semester. It made me question my worth at first. But with encouragement from Myla, Leo, and Tem, I came around and started telling myself a different story: that the setback was temporary, even fun, if I let it be. I was mostly afraid Mama Belen would hold it against me but she didn’t. She kept trusting in my comeback.

The consequence of failing was having my stipend put on hold until I passed the subject, plus a Letter of Appeal stating I’d pass it the next semester. When I did, and my status was reinstated, I received the lump-sum stipend payment my mother used to buy me a laptop for my 21st birthday—just in time for my electrical design subjects as an incoming fifth-year student. So, in a strange way, failing that subject ended up covering the cost of a laptop my family couldn’t otherwise afford. I have the scholarship to thank for that inadvertent turn of events, and my mother, who was prudent enough to make it count.

Receiving our allowances was probably the most exciting and social experience I had as a scholar, because I remember how Myla, Kevin, Edmund, and I used to walk to the nearest ATM, about a 15-minute walk away, to check whether our allowances had already been credited to our accounts. And if, after checking, we find nothing, we immediately set another date to check our accounts, or, if somebody could check ahead, to at least inform us. I don’t think it is still a social event with scholars today, especially with online banking readily available and an LBP ATM sitting outside the main gate of the University of Southeastern Philippines.

DOST-SEI gave me the opportunity to get my master’s degree

I already had the fire to pursue a master’s by my third year of college. My uncle Jonas talked to me about the benefits of graduate school, and a stranger I met on a bus to Davao—heading to a job as an engineer at the National Grid Corporation—encouraged me, almost prophetically, to take that path before I even understood how I’d get there.

During college, I had no network that could connect me to funded graduate opportunities, and funding was non-negotiable—I couldn’t let Mama Belen keep working just to send me to school again. In the Philippines, the working-class deal is usually: your parents send you to college, then they’re done. But I couldn’t let go of the idea of a master’s, even without a scholarship outside DOST that would’ve spared me extra years of service obligation. I was out of luck, or connections.

It was probably sheer confidence as a DOST scholar that carried me into applying for ERDT, DOST’s graduate scholarship. The process was arduous, especially producing a research proposal worthy of admission, with no one to guide me through it but the research-writing lessons I’d picked up in high school and college.

With the DOST-SEI Region XI brochure in hand, I zeroed in on Energy Engineering at the University of the Philippines Diliman—and had to name a potential research supervisor before I’d even done research at all. To find a topic, I scheduled meetings with professionals who might point me somewhere worthwhile, which eventually led me to a diesel power plant on an off-grid island to gather data. A friend who was also applying for ERDT came with me, which made the whole thing far more bearable than doing it alone.

The application itself took almost a year to resolve, including a Skype interview (Skype was our Zoom in 2016 🫣) and a mix-up where I’d applied a full year early for my intended start date—putting me in a strange limbo of “partially accepted” for six months before the university could formally admit me. It only took a month, in the end, to hear back once everything was sorted, and the rest was history. (The full email-by-email timeline is at the bottom of this post, for anyone curious about how slow and bureaucratic this process actually was.)

Taking my master’s changed me. It broadened the way I thought about contributing to science and climate solutions.

Interestingly, Ms. Joy Bolina from the ERDT office emailed me years later, in January 2020, to request a testimonial for DOST-ERDT’s Human Resource and Development Report. I only thought to check that report online while writing this post today—and there I was, my face printed alongside other ERDT scholars from across the country.

From the DOST-ERDT Annual Report 2019 (page 12):

The coursework felt like undergrad in some ways—the only real difference was intention. College felt like something I had to do. The master’s was something I chose, which meant I had to see it through and become accountable to the researcher I wanted to be.

Moving to the University of the Philippines (UP) Diliman also expanded my network and opened my mind to a wider world I might never have seen if I’d stayed close to home. My master’s classmates and churchmates helped me survive being away from family, and having one relative nearby gave me a safe haven while I learned the ropes of a new, big city.

I worked as a Science Research Specialist under DOST-funded projects

After my master’s, I landed a job a month after graduation, thanks to a classmate who invited me to apply at The CentRE, a renewable energy advocacy hub, where I worked as an Associate for Research and Development. The job let me see what theory looks like on the ground, and reconnected me with people I’d met during my first job as Technical Staff at the Mindanao Power Monitoring Committee of the Mindanao Development Authority (MinDA).

I hoped to find a research project that would use the skills from my master’s, but the opportunity stayed elusive until my thesis adviser, Dr. Pedrasa, reached out about a research project on energy modeling for the Philippines. It was my first shot at being part of actual research, even as a Junior Researcher.

The pandemic forced a decision. Staying at The CentRE meant staying closed off from full-time research roles; leaving meant months of uncertain job-hunting. While working part-time as a researcher, a consultant, and a freelancer all at once, I left CentRE before another year began. Stepping away from research left a longing in me, a calling I hadn’t reached yet.

I told my peers openly that I was looking for research work, and it eventually paid off: a colleague mentioned that someone was leaving his research position at UP Diliman for a tenured role in the private sector. I applied, carrying my identity as a DOST scholar as proof of resilience, and Dr. Ocon gave me the benefit of the doubt.

That full-time position opened more doors—including work with Dr. Odulio on a microgrid project that built my publication record. Two months before that project ended, I applied for another DOST-funded position on solar PV forecasting, but they needed an immediate hire and I didn’t make the cut. Not wanting to lose my footing as a researcher again, I kept looking.

How I became an MS Graduate Fellow

I’d first heard about the DOST Career Incentive Program (DOST-CIP) during my master’s. To qualify for the MS Graduate Fellow track, you needed a master’s degree and a research institution willing to host you. I didn’t think to apply until my options started narrowing. With two completed DOST scholarships already to my name, I was hopeful.

I emailed the program on April 25, 2022, and got an acknowledgment on May 5. But the secretariat told me there were no host institutions currently requesting someone with my MS degree—so I’d have to wait. I didn’t want to wait for an open door, so I went and pried one open myself.

I asked my friend and colleague Ian, who was working on the solar PV project at the time, if his project leader, Dr. Principe, would be willing to host me at no cost to the project, since DOST would cover my services. He agreed. I arranged the host-institution paperwork, and Dr. Principe requested me as his MS Graduate Fellow.

DOST-CIP formally accepted me in June 2022, and I started my contract with UP Diliman under Dr. Principe in July 2022, for an engagement renewed yearly over three years.

Six years as an academic researcher taught me how to translate complex data for people who aren’t researchers, and sharpened my scientific writing into seven journal publications, one book chapter, and seven peer-reviewed conference papers. (A detailed list of these is linked here.)

DOST-SEI scholarship could be yours too

Looking back to where I began, being a DOST scholar changed who I am and shaped the academic I became. But if I’m honest, the real story isn’t only mine. It’s also my mother’s—the widow who planned four years ahead so her daughter wouldn’t have to carry the same weight she did. Every paper, every fellowship, every research role traces back to a woman who never had a fallback plan because she’d already decided this would work.

Not everyone who receives a DOST-SEI scholarship becomes a researcher, and that’s exactly as it should be. Others have gone on to hold positions that support nation-building in their own ways, as Myla, Kevin, and Edmund have. My path is just one of many that this scholarship made possible. If you’re financially constrained and reading this, wondering whether something like DOST-SEI could be your door too—it was mine. It can be yours.

Appendix: the full DOST-ERDT application timeline