The Tan family – seated are Rufino R. Tan and wife Erlinda with their children (standing, from left): Lorenzo, Raul, and Nestor.

While it is fairly common for families belonging to affluent members of society to require their children to speak English as a stepping stone, perhaps, to succeed in life, the father of two top bank executives chose the road less traveled in bringing up his children.

“We do not hire maids who are not fluent in Tagalog,” says Atty. Rufino R. Tan, father of Nestor V. Tan, president and chief executive of BDO Unibank, and Lorenzo V. Tan, president and chief executive of Rizal Commercial Banking Corporation (RCBC).

“When we were bringing them up, we speak strictly Tagalog at home, no English,” he elaborates.

The elder Tan, who came from a Chinese family and grew up in a barrio in Nueva Ecija, explains that he did not want his children to be confused between the language they speak at home and the language used by their affluent peers, adding “that’s our national language, you will learn English in school.”

“We brought them [in] accordance with our plans, by not observing the usual way of bringing [up] our children,” even in their schooling, says Tan.

“They all started as prep then grade one, all of them were promoted to high school from Grade 6 and none of them stepped in Grade 7 because of their above average rating,” he adds.

But Tan remembers that no one among Nestor, Lorenzo, and Raul Tan – his second son and now a senior director for engineering in California-based KLA-Tencor Corporation – graduated in high school with honors, but they all got 90-plus in the National Career Assessment Examination.

He opined that the reason his children scored high marks in their college primer was because they were trained to think critically using the native tongue.

“We never answered questions by yes or no from our children. The answer is always why? What do you think?” he said.

Despite their wealth, Tan – who aside from being a lawyer is also a professor and manages his own auditing firm – reveals that he and his wife raised his children to live modest lives, riding public utility jeepneys to school from their house in Sta. Mesa Heights in Quezon City and making do with the allowance given to them. No more, no less.

“Yung jeep, pumapasada yun Quiapo-La loma, pag-nahuli ng pulis, ma-priprisinto. So hindi masasalubong ang mga anak namin. Ang pocket money nila was 10 centavos, if they already spent their 10 centavos sa school, they go home by walking,” says Tan.

“Lahat ng tatlo ko[ng anak] sa jeep lang, ang theory is para hindi lumaki ang ulo. But they enjoyed the jeep ride with their other barkada,” he explains.

At that time, Tan had three cars and one driver for his wife, but he says he preferred seeing his driver idle rather than bring his children to school.

“We observed that the way we traditionally bring up children is not the right way of doing it. We traditionally spoil our children, so they become helpless and they become dependent,” says Tan.

He cites as an example is his barrio in Nueva Ecija, “if you work, you have an impression from your neighbors that you’re not rich, and people don’t want to be branded as not rich. So they do not work because it’s an honor eating without working.”

“There’s a saying in Chinese that if you want to help your children, teach them how to fish, do not give them fish,” he added, while pointing his finger at an album containing photos of his three boys.

During the interview at his residence in Greenhills, Tan shows the photos of Nestor, Raul and Lorenzo in several family occasions, as he whispers “everything they have now came from them.”

When Nestor or “Toti”, as his retired Chemistry professor mother Erlinda Villanueva-Tan calls him, enrolled for commerce at De La Salle in Manila, his father managed the Philippine School of Business Administration (PSBA).

Upon Nestor’s enrollment, the father recalled, one of the admission officers happened to be his friend, “he saw my name in his application, then he called me, ‘Attorney, yung anak mo lagay natin sa engineering,’ ang sabi ko, bakit? ‘E, nag-eenrol sa business, e, sayang because his is very good in Math, he has competitive advantage.”

But instead of bowing to the admission officer’s appeal, Tan said that he did not relent to his friend’s suggestion.

“Our policy is not to go against the wish of our children. Whatever they want, provided that it’s not wrong, we honor it. So, put him in business,” he said.

Now, every time Tan remembers that particular phone call, “kung sinunod ko yun, e di wala kaming anak ngayon na presidente ng malaking bangko” he tells himself with a laugh.

Aside from this, the elder Tan would also recall the time when he spanked the manager of the largest bank in the country.

“The two boys hindi ko pinapalo yan, si Nestor lang for refusing to take his medicine when he was six or seven-years-old,” he said.

Tan also reveals that among his three sons, Nestor is the most relaxed in everything he does.

“I might be biased, pero yung aking panganay ang most diplomatic and very cool. Nestor is under-stress but he’s very cool, bihirang magalit. Kahit yumayanig na ang mundo, ok pa rin sa kanya,” Tan laughs, while explaining this unique attitude of his eldest son.

After college, instead of seeking a job in his father’s auditing company, Nestor decided to work for the SGV (Sycip, Gorres, Velayo) Group in 1978, and after two years, Tan remembers the hardest decision that he had made for Nestor.

The Asian Institute of Management founder Washington Sycip was willing to finance Nestor’s post-graduate course at Wharton School in Pennsylvania, under a condition that he’ll come back to the Philippines and give four-year service to SGV.

“He did not like the idea. He talked to us,” Tan recalls when Nestor tells him “if you can raise the money, I want to go there on my own because I might decide not to come back.”

After hearing that, he started to fear and asked himself, “will I give him money to lose him?” But despite the fear of losing his eldest son, Tan replies “sige, anak, if I have to sell our house, I will sell our house.”

Following that agreement, Nestor flew to US and stayed there for 17-years.

“It didn’t end there, after two-years sumunod na yung pangalawa under the same term and another two-years, sumunod ang bunso under the same term. So 12 or 13 years, zero kami, wala kaming kasama,” says Tan.

During those years that they were gone, Tan reveals “ang lungkot namin noon.”

But before Lorenzo left for the US, Tan says that among his three-children, Lorenzo is the most adventurous.

“Sometimes, the driver comes alone. So I asked, ‘where is Lorenzo?’ the driver answers ‘na-iwan po sa Makati,’ ‘sinong kasama?’ ‘Siya lang po.’ Pero hindi totoo yun, kasi kinukuntsaba yung driver na mag-isa lang pero lang totoo, kasama yung chicks nya,” the elder Tan said.

He said that Lorenzo is one of many young boys who had been able to survive the very delicate period of growing up.

“Intercon had a bar at the back, it was called Where Else. Nabarkada itong anak namin sa mga taga sa La Salle. Kung minsan, kapag Friday ino-umaga yun doon. But fortunately, his studies weren’t affected,” says Tan.

But compared to Nestor and Raul, the father says Lorenzo has the best skills in PR and has the most number of friends. “Minsan we wake-up in the morning puno yung dining namin sa barkada, doon natutulog.”

“Makikita nalang namin may nagtatalonang chicks dyan sa swimming pool. Hindi namin alam yun, niha-niho wala, basta parang kanila yung bahay. They’re free,” he adds.

Despite the successes of his boys in their respective fields, Tan clarifies there is no competition among them, especially when it comes to their jobs.

However, the father gamely revealed who among his children receives the highest pay slip every month – his second son Raul, who he said early on in the interview, was the one who easily gets affected by events happening around him among the three.

“The salary of our second boy, when converted into pesos will approximate the two salaries of the two bank presidents,” Tan proudly says, referring to Raul, who now resides in California.

The father estimates that a bank president in the Philippines at least receives P1 million a month.

After giving estimates on the salaries of his three successful kids, Tan points his finger at his car collections parked beside the family’s swimming pool as he cheerfully says “all of them are galante.”

“Itong BMW at yang susunod na Mercedes bigay ni Nestor. Yung Jaguar na yun na two-door at Chrysler 300 doon, bigay ng youngest. Out of our six cars, dalawa lang binili namin dyan, yung apat bigay,” says Tan, while his wife Erlinda looks at the cars.

He explains there’s a very special quality that his children possess, which very few parents get.

“They are very caring and thoughtful, you don’t have to talk. If they feel you need something, without asking they will give it to you. That’s our source of happiness,” says Tan.

But despite the successes of his children and the gratitude they have showed to their parents, there is one little secret that the father has yet to reveal to Nestor, Raul, and Lorenzo.

“Everything they want, we support them without objection. We don’t even let them know our preference because we don’t want their decisions to be affected by us,” Tan shares.

“Marami silang ginagawa na I don’t agree, but I do not let them know,” he ends, without elaborating.