Mostly, I hated the oppressive nature of high school. What most people don’t know is that young girls are vicious, vicious individuals. It isn’t much of a stretch to say that, at some point, we have all been hurt, and we have all hurt someone else, whether or not we meant to do it. High school was all about alienation, and since you’re pretty much stuck with the same people for those four years (and if you’re really unfortunate, you will have been stuck with them for seven years of elementary, too), you can never really break free of whatever labels they’ve pinned on you. You’ll be a geek for all time. You’ll be a bimbo. You’ll be the smart one with no sense of humor. You’ll be the class clown that nobody will ever take seriously. Sometimes, it’s too much pressure. Sometimes, you just want to change.
College promises a clean slate on which anyone can draw up an entirely new version of his or her self. You can be someone you want to be, instead of an image of someone that other people project on you. With this in mind, I was so excited to stage a reinvention of Madonna-like proportions. I had such high hopes that college would be nothing like high school. I would make new friends who wouldn’t necessarily have to share my interests for us to get along, people who would take me as I was, whatever I was. My days of fear-masked-as-apathy would be long gone, and I’d learn to be comfortable in my own skin.
The university life was never as much about the academics as it was about change, at least for me. Of course, I was expecting to finally learn things that were worth learning; things that I was interested in (which basically means: not math or home economics), and those expectations have been met. But ultimately, what I looked forward to most about college was the promise of change, the opportunity to develop into an individual I could be proud of. A divorce from everything that high school was to me.
Nowadays, I’m beginning to wonder if I was wrong to hope. College has been half letdown, half fulfillment so far. It is a lot more like high school than I wanted, only bigger. The cliques are still there passing judgment on everybody who walks by, the evil teachers are still around, and I still haven’t come to terms with the fact that a lot of people haven’t grown up and overcome the triviality of junior year. On the brighter side, however, for every instance that disappointed me, there were at least two more that made me feel better. Quirky, fun people to share this adventure with, a slightly improved curfew, a little more freedom, great teachers who have really helped me nurture whatever talent I have, later classes, and wonderful music.
For a while, I was disillusioned. For a while, I was disappointed. Now that I’m becoming a little too old for teenage angst (it’s embarrassing to still be whining about things; I don’t plan on being a 19-year-old emo kid), I jump between halfhearted resignation and acceptance, and occasionally, I still manage to hope. Perhaps it’s part of growing up, but I have faith that things will get better.
For now, I will trudge on from class to class, plugged into my iPod without a care in the world, and I will wait for the shining moments in between that will make this all worth it.
You can, as always, e-mail me at bewaretheashtraygirl@yahoo.com. If you’re not doing anything tomorrow night, hit Gweilos Makati and 6 Underground for Halikinu: [[aMp]]lified, S[[aMp]]ung Taon Ng Rock and Roll, featuring Kjwan, Dicta License, Boy Elroy, COG, Sound, The Out Of Body Special, and 12 of [[aMp]]’s roster of musicians. They’re playing some songs from 1996. Entrance is free for Ateneo ID holders, P150 otherwise.