“Pomp and Circumstance” is the top hit of the season. Here come the togas, mortarboards, ribbons and medals. Auditoriums are filled to capacity. We hear the applause, the cheers. There are tears of joy, of relief, and sorrow for the moment of parting.
March is the month of graduations for nursery, kindergarten, elementary and high schools; as well universities and colleges from where the future teachers, doctors and lawyers of this country emerge. These are rites of passage at whatever level. We celebrate with the students and parents who have invested so much to seek the lofty pinnacles of education.
I am constantly amazed at how intensely passionate Filipino parents are in their desire to see their children finish school. “Makatapos lang,” they say. It is a fervent dream to see them wearing togas, receiving diplomas, perhaps even a medal, their eyes full of hope and dreams.
I was genuinely moved watching the news of a mother who waited for the results of the recent bar examinations. Jostled by the crowd in front of the Supreme Court, she hung on to a wire fence straining to hear the names that were announced. She and her husband had sacrificed their resources and worked at two, three jobs to make sure their son fulfilled his dream to become a lawyer.
When his name came over the public address system, she was the picture of joy and deep gratitude. On her knees she wept while her husband held her close and covered his face with a towel, embarrassed, perhaps, to show his own happy tears.
Funny memories
When I get together with my classmates (we call ourselves The Survivors), we recall countless fond and funny memories of our schooldays, those “dear old Golden Rule days.”
Our high-school graduation was exciting. The gowns they made us wear did not quite make it to the best-dressed list. Imagine if you can, billowing white organza over pink satin, a wide (bib) collar, puffed sleeves, opera-length fingerless gloves, and a wide pink satin sash at the waist.
The style was typical of the times and appropriate for convent schoolgirls to wear. Nothing revealing. I think one of the German nuns designed it. No matter, we looked lovely and we felt special.
It took forever to give diplomas to the four sections of our graduating class, and we sat through it all trying not to mess up our dresses or ruin our makeup.
Mama had dabbed a damp sponge with Max Factor No. 1 on my face. “To remove the shine” she said, and then a touch of lipstick. I was 16, and lipstick made my lips sweat and itch. Still does.
But not Tangee. Does anyone still remember? It was a colorless lip gloss that just highlighted the natural color of your lips.
Our graduation ball was held at Selecta, which from a small neighborhood ice cream parlor had grown into a two-storey restaurant on the corner of Azcarraga (now Recto) and Lepanto. The ballroom was on the upper floor.
We had a delicious dinner and danced to the dreamy music of a live orchestra. Was it Serafin Payawal?
Stamp of approval
My date was “de buena familia” and therefore had the stamp of approval of the family “elders.” He was from La Salle and the handsomest boy I knew. All the girls had a crush on him!
He brought me a carnation corsage and I remember dancing the night away. It was fun. He took me home a little past midnight. I see him every now and then. Snow on his head and a silvery white mustache. He is still handsome, and has the same naughty smile.
A month after high school, I enrolled at PCCBA. It is today University of the East. We were several hundreds at our commencement exercises several years later. I wore a toga and remember posing for countless pictures. My parents were there, pleased and proud, their grandchildren running around the quadrangle with them. I sat in the audience and was jubilant when they called my name. I moved my tassel from the left to the right side of my cap. My third child sat on my lap, clapping for her mommy.
It was cause for celebration. After many stops and starts, I had managed to earn a Bachelor of Arts and Education degree. It was a promise I made to my parents that despite my early marriage I would finish college. I did. And it served me well; often as a badge of honor, and many times as our lifesaver in a foreign land.
Commencement speaker
Do you remember who the Commencement Speaker was when you received your diploma? High school? College? I don’t. Well, okay, it was ages ago.
It has always been the practice at high school and college graduations to invite a high government official or business tycoon, and sometimes even an ambassador, to be the keynote speaker. Your typical politician, especially if on the verge of reelection, will grab this opportunity to impress a captive audience.
I like it when a school chooses someone who really has something to say; words of wisdom that the graduates can bring home with them, take to heart and remember. Life lessons, perhaps?
A speaker needs to warn young people that there is a world to conquer out there, and that sometimes it could get rough, that there will be times when they will feel like failures.
He needs to speak words of encouragement, deliver a message that challenges the imagination and touches the heart. He must tell them that school may be over but that education continues; and that one never stops learning.
In the words of Leonardo Da Vinci, “Learning is the only thing the mind never exhausts, never fears, and never regrets.”
He must remind them that life is serious business and must be faced squarely with courage and honesty. They can treat it as the adventure it often can be. They can deal with life whichever way they choose, but they will be held accountable for their choices. That anything they say and whatever they do in life is like a pebble thrown into a quiet pond. It may make a small sound, or even make no sound at all. But it causes ripples that keep going forever.
May these be ripples of kindness, hope and love.
This short rhyme by an unknown author signals a fair and timely warning:
“The future lies before you, like a field of driven snow. Be careful how you tread it, for every step will show.”
