At a luncheon hosted by Lolita F., a true-blue beige/green Maryknoll alumna (now Miriam College), the topic moved to the musical Rivalry, about the long-held competition between two of Manila’s top elite and exclusive schools for boys in the 1960s: Ateneo and La Salle.
“La Sallites cannot read while Ateneans cannot count,” said columnist Larry Henares and everyone laughed. I sat next to another die-hard Maryknoller, Marla Y. She was discussing the highlights of the play that could stand some revision and/or improvement.
Lolita and Marla both expressed disdain over some scenes in the play where performers acting as Maryknoll colegialas were conversing in an accent and a tone that were ridiculously crude and unflattering. “We never enunciated words like that!” Marla remarked. It was an affront to the English language as taught by the Maryknoll sisters. Lolita continued, “And I didn’t like the portrayal of Maryknollers as flippant and boy-crazy.”
My head panned from right to left like watching a ping-pong match. These ladies were standing up for their alma mater.
Out of the blue, Lolita turned to me and asked, “Letty, aren’t you from Assumption?” My eyes popped like a Tarsier. “Yes,” I replied.
I spent four years in Assumption but was that long enough to have become “purple-fied” by the French nuns? Purple was also the color of the habit worn by this religious order and another reason why I couldn’t un-like the color purple even if I tried.
If there was anything unique that I attributed to Assumption girls, it was in their elaborate penmanship. Each letter of the alphabet was written like an Edwardian script with curlicues and curves that were dizzying to decipher.
I was a product of the University of Santo Tomas or UST High.
“I didn’t know there was a high school in UST,” said one newcomer. “I know of their excellent College of Medicine, and Fine Arts, Journalism and Music, but high school?” I rolled my eyes and scoffed, “Now you know.”
When classes were in full swing, everyone had their share of the highs and lows of collegiate life. We adhered to the rules and regulations of the nuns by coming prepared for each lesson and staying out of trouble. There were times when the pace slackened a bit over boring professors and their ho-hum lectures. We laughed at the antics of pasaway (naughty) classmates, struggled with French and Spanish, the rules of commerce and calculus and got into a few minor fracases.
Every week, the college dean, Mother Esperanza, would poke her head in our classrooms and holler, “It’s Monday, get the hell out of here,” a sign that the Jesuit priest, Father James B. Reuter, was in the chapel to hear our confessions and sacramentally render us guilt-free and sin-free.
Blooming romance was inevitable with the customary pairing of couples from schools that were located next to each other: Ateneo with Maryknoll, La Salle with St. Scholastica and San Beda with College of the Holy Spirit. That left Assumption and St. Theresa’s College happy hunting grounds for all because their campuses were not located near or next to any of the schools for boys.
At a dance party or jam session, I overheard a group of young men dressed in their fine dark suits singing to an improvised ditty, “Assumption girls are very nice, kiss them once, they’ll kiss you twice but if you try that on a Maryknoller, you’ll get whacked with a ruler!” The boys were snickering and nudging each other in a raucous fashion. They were making fun of colegialas and stereotyping them.
To these boys, Assumption was, at best, a finishing school where scholarly pursuits and activities were sidelined for the arts, humanities and everything that was frou-frou. Her graduates were not expected to have any serious ambition to be a trailblazer of any kind; the nuns prepped them to excel in the domestic front as faithful wives and doting mothers, someday. On the other hand, Maryknoll was seen as the best training ground to hone girls to go out into the world and serve it.
It was absurd to think that there was a typical Assumption or Maryknoll cookie-cutter mold in existence. Students cannot be mass-produced to be identical in appearance, in demeanor and in their mannerisms and actuations. Schools provided the tools, the facilities and the faculty to build up character so that we stayed strong and resilient. We were taught not to lose or compromise our values while family upbringing played a crucial role in shaping the character of the individual; it did not hinge solely on the school’s dictum.
On graduation day, the dean addressed our class with a parting message: “Ladies, do not forget the lessons you have learned in your college years. Believe in your strength and your unique potentials and always count on the power of prayer. It’s a different world out there. Conquer it.”
Mother Esperanza couldn’t have been more spot-on.
The schools gave each student a wider perspective in life. It also made us appreciate the varied personalities who came into our lives to challenge, infuriate or inspire us whether in high school, in college and in other institutions of learning. I gathered a meringue of lessons and memories from my schools and they have kept me in good stead.
So, where is the rivalry?
“Only in the thick skulls of these silly boys,” replied my colegiala mates and everyone laughed consumedly.