Turning A New Leaf

1.

My Senior High School graduation was one of the happiest moments in my life. Much like all the other graduation rites held in our school, it was set in our school gymnasium which was closed off to be air conditioned and designed for the ceremony. What was once a dimly lit basketball court with creaky bleachers suddenly turned into a magical looking venue with white, blue, and yellow fabric draping from the ceiling along with lush green plants and clothed seats dotting the floor. It was beautiful, sure, but I still remember how my classmates joked about how incredulous the 180° turn was for the “stanky old” gymnasium we spent PE classes at for two years. They even reminisced at how the same planked windows behind the venue’s curtains were once the student’s escape route from PE when they sneaked off to buy from the nearby canteen.

Those thoughts crossed my mind too, because as someone who studied in OLOPSC for twelve years, I’ve seen the beauty and deconstructions this gymnasium underwent from all the years I’ve been there. But as the rites droned on, with all of us receiving our diplomas and singing our graduation song, I realized that most of them were just lightening the mood because we knew that today was our last day as high school students. And it felt like clockwork how the moment we were announced as high school graduates, hundreds of students threw their caps up in the air while others finally let their tears pour.

That day was both the beginning and our end because it was our last lap in high school but our first lap to somewhere bigger. At that moment, I knew that everyone was feeling hundreds and maybe thousands of emotions at once because parents were hugging their children, friends were taking pictures together, and some were saying goodbyes. I wasn’t exempted from that hopeful and contagious energy because when the formal ceremony was over, I immediately rushed to my friends and classmates to congratulate and praise them for finishing strong.

But the one fact that drove me to that tear-inducing euphoria was how I was finally counting down the days before I officially became an BFA Creative Writing student in Ateneo de Manila. For the longest time, I’ve always been sure that my dream was to become a writer and Ateneo happened to offer a perfect program and curriculum for it.

At first, I had no other goal but to become a writer someday. I was merely one of those nerdy students who spent her lunch and after school hours holed away in the library; reading books and practicing writing. It was through pure idealism and complacency that I didn’t think far ahead to college until it was already looming upon me. It even went to the point where I would merely answer “I don’t mind being in any college or university just as long as I’m in creative writing.” when asked for my plans for college.

But during my eleventh grade, my laid back attitude changed because of one of the pieces we studied in Philippine Literature class. “Under My Invisible Umbrella” is an essay written by Lauren Fantauzzo about her experience living in the Philippines as a Filipino-American with fair skin and an American accent. Throughout the essay, she narrated how she felt as if she was under an invisible umbrella that kept her away from the prejudice fellow Filipinos experience from each other because of the mentioned qualities.

It was a beautifully-written and impactful piece but, somehow, the thing which stuck with me the most was the fact that the writer was a lesbian. I still remember how shocked my friends and I were when we found this out because they were the only ones who knew that I was a closeted lesbian in a Catholic-dominant school.

Thankfully, one of the homeworks we had for the piece was to research about the author and that’s when I learned that Ms. Fantauzzo was a professor teaching in the BFA Creative Program in Ateneo de Manila. As I recall this fact now, it seems silly how seventeen-year-old me decided that she wanted to study at such a prestigious and grandeur university because of a lesbian professor. I mean, students who were also aspiring Ateneans surely had more common and heart-wrenching reasons such as dreams of higher education or sickly parents. But I can’t blame my younger self for forming a dream to finally belong after years of having no prominent figure in my life.

Because of this, a newfound passion stirred up inside me because I finally didn’t just want to write, but I wanted to have the same impact too. It may seem shallow and questionable that my catalyst for such a pivotal decision in my life was a story about Filipino-American diaspora but merely seeing a lesbian’s work despite how big of a disjunct her experience were with mine was big enough for me.

Thankfully, on January 11, 2019 at 11:11 a.m., I officially saw the word “ACCEPTED” in black bold letters in my status of application for the same course. Because of this, I already conditioned myself to get accustomed to my dream school and it helped that my review center was inside Ateneo. I even went to the Freshman Convocation because my parents already paid for my reservation fee in that university. On that day, I took my time to walk from the red brick road in SOM Forest just to admire the towering green trees and the orange and white buildings for my future home. During the campus tour, I even met some of my future professors and classmates so I was practically ready to study and create a new journey in that university.

However, that fact changed on April 1, 2019: the day after our graduation.

That day, I woke up at around ten or eleven in the morning because I was still tired from the festivities the day before. Just like most families, we celebrated my graduation party at the mall by eating out in SM Megamall. Of course all of us were dead tired from walking and eating that day, especially me because I had to reply to hundreds of congratulatory messages from my families and friends. It was supposed to be a typical and slow day for me because surely nothing else was going to top a high school graduation. Right?

Wrong. Because the moment I opened my social media accounts, the top most trending conversation topic was UPCAT. When I saw that, I wasn’t like everyone else who died to see if they were going to be Iskolars ng Bayan despite the ruckus and shock it caused to everyone. It wasn’t because I was proud or nonchalant, it’s just that I already accepted the fact that I wouldn’t pass the UPCAT the moment I opened the Math test booklet. And as I’ve mentioned, I already got a secure spot in my dream university so I tried not to be fazed about it too much.
But it seemed like fate really wanted me to see the results, because I didn’t manage to escape my friends’ and families’ excitement on the prospect of my passing the country’s supposed top university. I still remember how bullet-like each notification was in my phone causing it to ping continuously for minutes on end. I didn’t know how to answer them at that point so I still ended up looking at my test results.
To my surprise, I managed to pass the BA Communication Arts program of the University of the Philippines Los Baños. I did feel genuine happiness because my parents, friends, and family were proud of me. But at the back of my head, I had a looming thought that passing that university might lead me to not studying in my dream university. After all, there seemed to be a trend of Filipino families making UP student relatives a family emblem and my family wasn’t apart from that.

I tried to shrug that thought off so it wouldn’t spoil my mood so I congratulated all my friends who passed the exam instead. Unfortunately, my thoughts were affirmed a week later when my family made a trip to Los Baños, Laguna to see my “future home”. My happiness and gratefulness should’ve grown at that loving gesture they did. But back then, a void caused by the university life I could’ve had grew inside me.

2.

Because of the difference in academic calendars between my former school and soon to be university, I suddenly faced four months of summer vacation. Much like all the summers I’ve spent in my life, I spent mine in my grandparents’ house along with my siblings, cousins, tito, titas, and lola but instead of two months, it became three. Nothing much changed in the routines we had during summer because I was still the oldest daughter. In those three months, I bathed and chastised my younger cousins like they always asked me to and I helped my tito and titas in their jobs when they needed to.

But at the same time, I wasn’t blind to not notice how their view towards me shifted. Who wouldn’t notice it when at the smallest things I did, it somehow managed to be connected to my passing the UPCAT. When I taught my youngest cousin to read, my Mama would pat my back and say, “Ayan ang anak ko! Iska ‘yan.” If I were to do even the littlest chores such as sweeping the floor or washing the dishes, my tito would say, “Ansisipag talaga ng mga Iskolar ng Bayan!”

For three months, that went on inside our house and I knew I should’ve been grateful for their praises. Instead, I grew uncomfortable with it and it only reminded me of the future I planned to have. It even made me become easily tired of social interactions that I didn’t only shut down my family’s praises but my friends too. Of course, I never showed my discomfort towards it to my family as the oldest daughter our household but also because I didn’t want to spoil their celebratory mood. I even felt lost in my own sadness because I was only allowed to confront those thoughts at two in the morning when everyone was asleep.

But the good thing about being lost in a vacuum of space was that it gave me time to look around and write about things. During that four-month break, I ironically managed to write about my suffocation and loss disguised as short stories and poems about theater and the galaxy.

Of course, I inevitably heard remarks from such as, “Anak, nagpre-prepare ka na ba para sa college mo?” or “Excited ka na ba pumunta sa Laguna?”, “Paano ‘yon, sa UP ka na mag-aaral?”, and occasionally “‘Wag ka maging aktibista ha?” Everytime that happened, I always tried to reassure them that everything would be fine.

But sometimes, I’d get recurring dreams of the familiar red-brick road I used to walk on when I was on my way to Rizal Library and ISO Hall. Sometimes, it’s me, walking inside Arete as I climbed up and down the statement stairs with glass rooms filling it. But all in the end, I wake up and never talk about those dreams to anyone to try living a better morning.

3.

If anyone would ask me what I dream to do in life, it would only take me a second to say “writing.” Ever since I was Grade 7, I fell in love with the idea of bringing a reader to different worlds just by reading my stories. It was such an exhilarating thought to have such a positive effect on people that I thought, I need to be someone like that someday.

So one could only imagine how thrilled I was to be in writing classes and workshops in UP Los Baños.

If I were to tell the angsty version of myself that I was living my dream in Elbi, she’d probably scoff or laugh at my statement. But truthfully, it really felt so fulfilling to study about literary theories and criticism and literature itself in college. It felt as if the four months of moping were really laughable now that I was studying what I loved in a university I grew to fall in love with. In a way, I was slowly starting to dissociate my dream to my former dream school because I was still experiencing the beauty of writing in a different and new way.

Before going to Elbi, I felt like I’d find it hard to fit in a place that was miles and hours away from home. But when I finally experienced its classes and culture, I saw how warm and welcoming the environment and community was. For the first few months as a freshman, I spent my time walking around the campus to familiarize myself with my new “home.” I took my time walking with my friends from CAS A2 to the Student Union building just to buy food from 7/11 or the stalls inside it.

Whenever I went to class, I chose to walk from my dorm to the Old Hum building just so I could feel the fresh morning light and air before I entered the dark and cold hallways of the building’s basement. Even on the nights where my dorm’s curfew grew closer and closer, I’d still opt to walk from McDo Vega to St. Therese because I knew I was safe in Elbi.

Greatly enough, I met people from different cities who I eventually became close to. One of the main people I treasured were my block mates because they were the first people in Elbi I became friends with. Because of the Guidance Instruction (GI) activities that OSA did for freshmen, I learned that my new blockmates were, funnily enough, as rowdy and as clingy as my former senior high school classmates. In a way, it comforted me that despite the fact that I was miles away from Marikina, I was still surrounded by such a familiar energy in Los Baños.

My favorite memory with them was how they once jokingly made a call for volunteers in our block group chat about reporting my monthly tripping incident to our professor. As a notoriously clumsy person, it was a given that I’d trip and fall in UPLB’s rocky and uneven pavements. One day before our afternoon class, I tripped in front of CAS A2 just like always and I had to treat a new wound again. Thankfully, one of them offered to walk with me up the seemingly thousand-stepped Nihon Koen just to go to the University Health Service. And despite how small those gestures might seem to others, I’m still thankful that I had people like them.

4.

For once in a college student’s life, we’re probably bound to fall in a slump because of multiple factors. It could be the anxiety caused by familial pressures or burnout due to too much schoolworks. Unfortunately, even with the amount of love and passion I had for writing, there were still times where I felt like I was falling.

The best example of my worst slump was during the second semester of my freshman year. During that point, I’ve already grown past the era of being grade conscious because I now focused on wanting to be a good writer. After participating in multiple writing workshops and enlisting in several writing classes, I already set such a high standard on my writing. From merely writing just for the sake of expressing myself, all the theories and works I’ve studied made me want to produce engaging yet socially relevant works. Because of this, I looked at my works harsher than everything else that I fell into the trap of comparing my works to everyone else’s.

There was even a point where my thoughts rewinded back to April 2019; to the day where my life and dream had to be rewritten to adapt to my new future. For weeks on end, I continued stacking steps upon steps for me to go higher just to achieve my dream. But instead of growing, it felt as if those steps became walls which blocked my goals. It made me forget that being a writer wasn’t just about setting up to everyone’s standards; it was about enjoying the process, too.

Gratefully, I managed to go through that worst slump in my life when I switched back to my old outlook. Instead of looking at other people’s works as markers of success, I saw them as inspirations I could look at. This is actually why, up until the present, I read literary pieces to remind myself why I chose this dream in 2013 and pursued it in college.

Another thing that grounded my passion for literature was living my life and enjoying it. This was one of my major flaws: I made my life revolve around my goals so much that I forgot to look at the love and beauty around me. Of course, the latest example of that could be how driven I was to finish my WIPs that it only tore me apart instead of making me grow.

So when I got out of that period of sadness, I started to treasure and remember all my memories with my favorite people more intently. I started going out on spontaneous adventures with my friends and I didn’t mind if it ended up somewhere near like Seoul Kitchen or somewhere far like SM Calamba. My fondness for mundane things came back too, like enjoying a 5:30 am journey from Carabao Park to IRRI just to write or going on late night dinners with my orgmates in McDo Vega. Somehow, the intimacy of every mundane interaction I had felt more special because I became happier and healthier.

5.

It has been nearly three years since I entered the university and I still continue to find love among the UPLB community, especially the Com Arts one. Although all classes have shifted from face-to-face meetings to online ones, their presence and energy could still be felt through the workshops and productions they continue to hold for the people. During online classes, I could still feel their presence, though distantly, from the laughter and jokes to the clothes and antics they try to show.

Though it’s hard and taxing to continue my remaining years in the university in an online set-up, I still live for the day we come back to our campus we’ve considered home. In the few months to come, perhaps all the time we spent working and fighting for our safety during the pandemic would bear fruit. And by then, some chapters of our lives would have ended yet started at the same time.

Header Image Source: Garaña, Clare. “Palma Bridge”. 2019. JPEG file.

---

About the Author