feelings medals evoke

Every time I attend a graduation and see students wearing medals and ribbons, I always wonder what feelings those accolades evoke in them. For most, pride and joy, of course. But there are students who think they're shortchanged and deserve better honors than what those medals and ribbons on their breast represent. And when one gets this feeling, nothing could be more hurting than a graduation ceremony.

I should know. Been there, done that.

I spent only two weeks in Grade I because Mrs. Anita L. Orozco, my teacher, accelerated me to Grade 2. Underaged with a non-existent study habit, I was still able to worm my way into the honor roll of a batch that had more intellectual Titans than Mt. Olympus.

I was a consistent honor student but when I graduated from Purisima School in 1981, I got only one medal. And that was for being a member of a glee club! Me who couldn’t sing to save my life and who got in only because Tita Nene Pareja, our trainer, wanted an---ahem---eye candy on the line up, got a gold medal for lip-syncing!

Funny. Yet cruel.

Shoot me now, but it is my boldest contention that among my batchmates, only Dr. Laiden J. Elizalde-Oliguiber, our class valedictorian, is within my league. All others did well by possessing an 80-GB mental hard drive.

During our time, I brought more honors to our batch and Purisima School than Laiden and all other honor students combined: I was a debater; I was an extemporaneous speaker; I was a pitcher; I played volleyball and basketball; I was an orator, a declaimer, an actor, a director, a quiz bowler; I was an award-winning artist-illustrator; I was the informal initiator and leader of our batch.

That March afternoon when I received my diploma from Monsignor Ireneo Amantillo and Sr. Carmen Francis Cua, SPC, I felt sorry for my mother. But what could I do? The nuns didn’t give me awards like they did to lesser achievers for all those skills I put to better use and had given Purisima School honor and prestige. Even the Gerry Roxas Leadership Award was given to a classmate who had this eternal smile on his face but had done practically nothing to catapult our batch to prominence and supremacy.

When the result of NCEE came out, I had my sweetest vindication. Except Laiden, all honor students of my batch bit my dust. The good thing was, we all belonged to the same room when we took it at STC and Pilot Elementary School and so nobody could accuse somebody of getting a leakage.

To this day whenever I get the chance, I always tell graduates similarly situated that while ribbons and medals are important (for their parents most especially), they don’t have to feel bad like I once did. Success, after all, is not dependent on ribbons and medals.

Hardwork is still the key.