Hooks + Books

Reality bites

this story originally appeared in the philippine daily inquirer on March 26, 2002.

I have less than a month to map out the rest of my life. People call it the seniors’ syndrome. For me it looks more like an absentee option. Do I really have that edge presumably granted to more than a hundred iskolar ng bayan? And do I actually get to choose where I’m headed after I step out of the university confines? There are a thousand jobs available and roughly 10,000 fresh graduates. The chances seem blurry. Then I begin to think about what the odds are if I go on struggling alongside hundreds of thousands desiring to be part of the Philippine workforce. Most of us reluctantly choose to leave and seek greener pastures abroad, taking on jobs at the extreme end of their expected profession. How many cum laudes are in the States right now serving as nurses and housekeepers for the whites? How many well-educated and top-bred individuals endure saying “Can I take your order, sir?” at an LA McDonald’s?

I would like to start a well-meaning career in the Philippines. That’s what taxpayers expect me to do. That’s what I can do for them in return for allowing me to spend four years at the premier university paying only P7,000 a semester. I’d like to believe that what my professors told me would bring me to greater heights. That I am special. That I am one of the few who are above the rest. That I am destined for greatness. Most of all, that I wouldn’t have any problem looking for a job.

It’s beginning to dawn on me now. I have been fed lies. I do not have that edge. Reality check. I’d have to elbow my way through a sea of people to get noticed. Unlike what I have been made to believe, I still have to clamor. I don’t really expect companies to fall down on their knees and beg me to work for them. It’s just that I am enraged. I have been living in a dream the whole time when I thought being in UP was already living a reality. I do have a high regard for my university. I am proud of where I came from. But the pride of who I am does not seem to matter anymore. I am not even sure where my major will take me. Political Science doesn’t seem like much of a career for me now that I think of it. People I know who graduated with honors from this course are sales personnel, high school teachers and telemarketers. Where are the theories we have learned? What happened to the thesis proposal we so painstakingly came up with in order to pass? What is the use of those conceptual frameworks we tried to formulate and the political philosophies we spent sleepless nights to embed in our souls? Where will my scholarly politicized mind lead me?

In the end, it all boils down to that one thing my parents told me that made me cry. “Pag binigyan ka ng trabaho, don’t question it. Just do as you’re told and do it well.” My dreams have crashed. My idealism has faded. Never mind if it makes you happy or not. Just do your job. Be thankful you have it because a lot of people don’t. I do not bear a grudge against my parents for that virtual slap in the face. They did me a favor. They gave me a scene from reality a lot of us from the State U try so hard to push back and ignore. We do think we’re great. I do still think to some degree that I have that X-factor. Seeing my friends in far-out jobs makes me want to pity myself. And pity the rest of the undergraduates of my university who still believe they are the rulers of the world. Being in the top 15 percent of the Upcat passers is not an assurance of a good life. All efforts seem futile.

Suddenly I’m not the usual optimistic perky person anymore. I do worry about my future and where I’m headed. I have served my lot satisfactorily as a recipient of taxpayers’ money. I have dreams of doing great things for my country. I feel I am worthy of the recognition I ache for. Perhaps someday I will finally get to where I’m destined to land. For now, I’d have to contend with my last month as an iskolar ng bayan. If I do have to clamor relentlessly for some job after graduation, I’d probably take the only sound alternative available–go back to school. Yes. And escape the ordeal for about another four years or so. It’s a coping mechanism for those who cannot cope.

I am one of them. That is, if I do graduate.

Vanessa A. Doctor

Vanessa A. Doctor, 19, is a political science senior at the University of the Philippines in Diliman.

Related Articles

Back to top button