By Emelina S. Almario
This article is part of a series for Adarna House’s 45th anniversary. Emelina S. Almario looks back on how her children came to take part in Adarna House’s journey, and how they continue to share the mission with fresh perspective and passion.
At each monthly staff meeting of Adarna, staff members whose names are randomly drawn are asked to recite from memory the reason why Adarna House exists:
Lumilikha ng makabuluhan at kawili-wiling karanasan para sa mambabasang Filipino
Those who succeed are given a reward. The hope is that what is recited not only comes from the memory but also from the heart.
Over its 45 years, Adarna’s trajectory has not always been easy or steadily upwards. But no matter what the words or phrasing, the creation of enjoyable and meaningful reading experiences is at the heart of Adarna House. Back to the start of Adarna Books in 1977 when these books were conceptualized as original, entertaining stories that highlighted Filipino values, on through the articulation of its mission as “enhancing the Filipino child’s quality of life, intellectual capacity, and cultural consciousness by creating learning opportunities and enjoyable reading experiences”, and up to the present.
Its present version which puts “makabuluhan” side by side with “kawili-wili” can well describe not just the experiences of the Filipino reader but also of Adarna employees. Whether it’s meaning that results in joyfulness or joyfulness that results in meaning, the staying capacity of people who stay on in Adarna is rooted in a belief that the work they are engaged in has value for children and for the country. The psychic income is priceless.
Consultants that I engaged for Adarna, whether for finance, talent management, or strategic planning, would inevitably comment on our happy workplace. I would always nervously say that my constant fear was that workplace happiness came at the expense of workplace efficiency. But I guess the fear was ungrounded. Perhaps the creative function is a joyful one; in fact there are studies that show that creativity is heightened by happiness and positive feelings. Perhaps the good feeling all around is in anticipating the happiness books bring to children. Perhaps the deepest joy is knowing that our work is needed, that it has meaning and directly addresses the grim statistics of our national PISA scores, our functional literacy, and our learning poverty. Adarna is worth working for; it engages both the mind and the heart.
The commitment of the staff to Adarna was not a total surprise to me. Within the Finance and Administration unit, we soon had a full-time human resources person. We consciously engaged in activities which would develop company pride from monthly meetings to annual outings. We put on a good show during book fair season; participated, even spearheaded industry activities, and had a long list of awards to our name.
What came out as a bigger surprise was my children deciding to carry on the work of Adarna. When I stepped into Rio’s shoes in Adarna, I never thought I would wear the shoes for over twenty years, and that these years were a preparation for the second generation to take over.
They say the best way to get to know a family is to join them at the dinner table. At least, that’s how a friend used to find out whether her daughter’s suitors were suitable. At the Almario dinner table, the conversation, some friendly, others confrontational, often revolved around books and literature and the arts in general. Still, raising children who would choose Adarna as a workplace, was quite unexpected. As my mother would say, “Kung ano ang pinakain mo”.
Ani declared her intention to join Adarna after attending the Bologna book fair for the first time. No if’s or but’s. Goodbye, corporate world of Makati; hello, family business office in a small apartment in Quezon City. She joined Adarna together with Michelle, a niece of Rio and how proud I was when these two pretty ladies represented Adarna at an event at Filipinas Heritage Library which I headed. This was right before the Philippine Centennial. We had to work harder and sell more to afford their salaries but what a lovely face and show of youthful energy for a publishing house which people were saying had seen better days. And Ani was relentless. When public schools declared that they would no longer sponsor book fairs, she looked for private schools where she herself would sell our books in classrooms. She joined industry associations where she thought our presence should be felt. She liaised with book creators and learned the art of curation in our book development process. She insisted on high standards for printing and looked around for possible printers who would treat us as partners. She demanded that we win awards.
Agno was the second Almario child to join Adarna. The eternal question posed in conversations about books in my early years in Adarna was whether physical books would survive given the popularity of digital books. Agno provided the link to that digital world. His fascination with stories started in childhood when as a very young boy, he would ask me to tell him stories about our family. He must have been in high school when I told him to join Max, a driver of Adarna, to deliver some bookstore orders in order to teach him the hard work behind earning money. Like Ani, Agno’s first job was not Adarna although he helped out before his college graduation and before his first job. He spent some months in the banking industry before deciding to join Adarna full time, convinced it could be a vehicle for his entrepreneurial spirit. He successfully presented the case to Adarna management to test the waters with a digital group he set up: apps, e-books, and e-sales. The latter two ventures saved us from totally collapsing during the COVID years.
Asa joined Adarna a little after Agno in 2012. Her family decided to return to the Philippines after ten years abroad in the U.S. and I took the opportunity of asking her to join Adarna as I looked forward to the end of my stewardship of the company. Among my children, Asa has the longest memories of Adarna, going back to the days of Albert Gamos who would teach her how to draw, and the storytelling sessions on Morato Avenue. Of the three, Asa was the most hesitant and anxious about working in Adarna. Her work experience consisted of a couple of years at Lor Calma before she left for the U.S., and while in the U.S., conceptualizing, setting up and running Inky Livie Paper Products on her own. Her custom wedding invitations soon picked up on Etsy.com, and reached as far as Ireland. Once in Adarna, as she slowly took over the leadership, the staff who must initially have reacted with, “What, another Almario?” were soon talking about how she inspired trust. This was put to the test during the COVID years, a test she passed with flying colors.
The second generation of Almarios in Adarna.
In each of them, I see qualities that assure me that Adarna House will survive, and survive well, beyond its 45 years. Ani makes Adarna proud through her charismatic personality, her enjoyment of being on stage, her insistence on quality products, her safeguarding of the Adarna brand. I remember how she masterfully took to the microphone at a teachers’ workshop in Ayala Cloverleaf to settle a protest. Agno is the visionary, the risk taker, the leader who demands that the company think and act at the edge. Forever questioning what we do, he will keep the company spirit young. Forever looking at external forces in our ecosystem, he will prevent our death by inbreeding. Asa will engender the trust needed for people to work honestly with each other and bring out each other’s best. Should difficulties or disagreements arise, she is the center that will hold.
Ani, Agno, and Asa have created other worlds outside Adarna but even as they look outward, they keep Adarna in their hearts and always bring back to Adarna in whatever position they hold, what is best for it.
Patuloy ang paglikha.
The story of Adarna House continues in upcoming essays. Like and follow us on Facebook and Instagram to catch the next release.