By Cynthia Shank
In a university as storied as Silliman, it is easy to focus on the milestones. But behind every milestone are people—teachers, who built legacies one classroom, one lesson, and one student at a time.
They are the kind of teachers whose lectures turn into life lessons. The kind whose presence alone commands respect, not out of fear, but from decades of being truly formative. The kind who did not just teach but also shaped you.
The impact of these iconic educators runs deeper than the syllabi they once taught. Some are still walking the halls of Silliman, others have passed on. But the stories they planted continue to grow in th+e minds and hearts of students who proudly call themselves Sillimanians.
One of those names, often spoken with both admiration and gratitude, is Dr. Enrique G. Oracion, or to most students, Sir Ike. A long-serving professor in the Sociology-Anthropology Department and the Director of the Office of Research and Development.
Sir Ike is widely regarded not only for his academic excellence but for his enduring presence in Sillimanian life and Dumaguete itself. Someone whose name has become almost synonymous with the university itself. But to him, being an “icon” was never the goal.
“I don’t consider myself iconic,” he said, smiling. “I consider myself visible.”
And visible, he truly is. Not just in physical presence, but in the way he has guided generations of students through conversations that challenge, awaken, and transform.
Sir Ike believes that being a teacher means more than knowing the content of a syllabus. It means creating space for human connection and staying grounded in the evolving rhythm of students and society.
“For me, it’s always been about staying connected,” he shared. “I always tell students: I’m not here to be above you. I’m here to be with you in the process.”
In a time when some may view teaching as performance, Sir Ike remains steadfast in his philosophy: the essence of teaching is dialogue, not monologue.
“When you teach, it’s not just you talking. It’s you listening, engaging, being present.”
This approach is why, even decades later, students still remember not just what he taught, but how he made them feel—respected, challenged, seen.
To him what makes an educator truly lasting in a student’s memory is not the information, it’s the impact. “You have to leave a mark not just in their notes, but in their growth.”
Sir Ike’s influence stands tall in the university’s intellectual and research landscape, but in the world of stories, voices, and presence, another name echoes just as strongly: Ma’am Bing.
From the newsroom to the classroom, that is how Melita C. Aguilar, lovingly known by students and colleagues as Ma’am Bing, describes her journey to becoming a Mass Communication educator at Silliman University.
She did not begin in academia. Before she ever stepped in front of a whiteboard, Ma’am Bing was a broadcast journalist and news director at a local radio station in Dumaguete. Her days were filled with writing news scripts, going on air, and managing a newsroom. But something inside led her to another calling.
“I wanted to share what I had learned as a practitioner,” she said. “So I asked if I could teach. They gave me one subject—Introduction to Broadcasting—which is very, very close to my heart.”
That single subject grew into a lifelong vocation. Ma’am Bing began teaching part-time at Silliman University in 1996, while still working full-time in radio and even taught at Foundation University, helping pioneer their AB Broadcasting program.
In 2017, she officially became a full-time faculty member at Silliman, later serving as Officer-In-Charge of the Dean’s Office of the College of Communication and Director of the Office of Information and Publication. Through the years, she has taught hundreds of students, organized annual exposure trips, and shared a mantra she lives by: learning never ends.
“Even if you’ve graduated with honors, learning doesn’t stop,” she emphasized. “Whatever you experience in the field, in media, in the corporate world, even on social media, you can always pass that on to someone else.”
To Ma’am Bing, what makes a teacher “pioneering” or “iconic,” is not about the number of years in service or the titles awarded. “It’s not about how long you’ve been here,” she said. “It’s about the impact. It’s about the learnings you pass on that students carry with them.”
For her, the most unforgettable moments are simple but powerful: when former students come back, years later, and say thank you. Some now lead teams in PR, BPOs, government offices, and national media outlets, and still remember her classes like it was yesterday.
“They tell me what they learned in the classroom is what they’re now applying in the workplace,” she smiled. “That’s the greatest reward.”
Her legacy is clear: a deep belief in the power of communication, and a commitment to molding not just skilled professionals, but responsible, principled ones.
“We’ve mastered communication here,” she said. “Now I just want my students to take what they’ve learned, practice it, and make the college proud.”
In the end, legacies are not built overnight. They are shaped in classrooms, carved into memories, and carried quietly in the lives students go on to lead. Professors like Sir Ike and Ma’am Bing did not just teach, they transformed. And long after the lectures end, their voices still echo in every Sillimanian who dares to make a difference.
