The graduate

I am trying to remember details of my graduation from the University of the Philippines, but the recollection is at best spotty. Yes, it was that long ago, and it was also at the time not that big a deal, since there were many other concerns of greater import – such as the then prevailing martial law – that occupied idealistic young minds. Our graduation ceremony was held at the amphitheater behind Quezon Hall or the admin building, and one item of protest for us was that the tops of some of the grand acacia trees surrounding the lagoon had to be trimmed so snipers of the security forces could get a clean line of fire from their perch atop the AS building; who they intended to shoot – if ever – was not clear, and I cannot remember if that was ever confirmed, or if it was one of those campus legends.

Since there were just a handful of us English majors at the time – English was then considered a burgis course – we decided not to boycott the rites, as some other more militant graduates did. So we rented our togas and caps, and bought our tassels – plain white, for a basic baccalaureate degree – for the princely sum of P10 each in Rizal Avenue. At the suggestion of my mother who – bless her! – braved the heat and the crowds to attend my graduation, I wore a dress under my toga (and high heels!), though many of my classmates opted for shorts and tank tops because of the summer heat. One classmate had to keep her toga on even after the ceremony, since she only had underwear on under her toga!

We did not need the Department of Education to remind us to keep the affair simple – it would’ve been unthinkable to have made a grand to-do of it all. We did not march up the stage to get our diplomas – we got them weeks later at the registrar’s office; we were called by college, stood up and moved our tassels from left to right, and that was it. Honor graduates got called individually, but that was at most three seconds of fame, except for the summa cum laude – I think we had two that year, or three – who gave the speech (I can’t recall who he or she was).

I can’t say much more about my graduation – oh yes, we were granted civil service eligibility, which I never claimed – but my lack of enthusiasm is by no means indicative of the value I place on my education at the UP. Having gone to a Chinese Christian school, a non-sectarian girls’ school and a convent school before landing in Diliman, I appreciate greatly the values UP gave me, the skills it taught me, the sensibilities it ingrained in me. The three and a half years – I lost a semester’s worth of credits transferring from the convent school to UP – I spent in that beautiful campus were troubled and troubling times for the country, and I am thankful that I spent those years in the Diliman Republic rather than in some sheltered campus. I guess that whole experience was what made up my education, and perhaps not recalling my graduation as the culminating event just means that to this day, my education continues.   

From that time on Jesus began to explain to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life. Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. “Never, Lord!” he said. “This shall never happen to you!” Jesus turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men.” Matthew 16:21-23