Cure For the Itch*

The topic of speaking in the next graduation ceremony of my high school was brought up again at dinner last night. Apparently, one of the school officials was insistent on having me as guest of honor after learning that I have actually graduated from college last year with some sort of sprinkles. The first time I heard it, I vehemently refused and referred another batch-mate who, by all intents and purposes, is more appropriate and respectable for such an honor. Aside from the fact that it will be my sister's graduation ceremony I'll be making awkward by my presence, I really do not think I deserve that privilege to give unsolicited advice to a bunch of still highly-impressionable young adults.

Because aside from managing to obtain a degree from the University, I really do not have anything I could be proud of for the past year. Really, introducing a speaker with a litany of achievements is some sort of a requirement for a successful speech. Meanwhile, here I am, drifting here and there, without a clear goal in mind yet. No impressive credentials to add to my name at all. That kind of poses a disappointment for the graduates on their special day, methinks.

But I can't help but imagine what I could tell those kids, who are in varying degrees of confusion and excitement. Maybe if I stand there at the podium, I will look at the faces staring at me and see the reflection of own self from seven years ago, and tell them, "It's all uphill from here. Go back and hide under your mothers' skirts if you don't plan on tackling it head-on." Maybe I will tell them that it's okay to feel conflicted between what is practical and what is ideal, it is how they act on their choice that will determine whether they're making progress or not.

Right. Maybe I will tell them that earning an occasional singko is not so bad, it might actually be the catalyst they've been needing from the start. Maybe, pursuing a "pwede na" field is just as good as taking the road to the career you've been dreaming of since you were seven. The thing is, get your ass out there and do something. Inspiration doesn't strike the idle, I've been told. It comes to people who, despite failing, continue being hard at work. JK Rowling said (maybe I'll reward the first person to tell me who JK Rowling is), “It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all--in which case, you fail by default.”

I'll tell them adulthood is not what they've imagined when they were still in the safe confines of school. Maybe I still don't know much about it but I'm pretty sure it's not falling in love into perfect relationships and driving fancy cars and earning loads of bucks in a jiffy. It's taking over the responsibilities you have been blissfully unaware of when you were young; it's taking your place in the society where you struggle against yourself and the people around you. 

Maybe I'll ask them who reads. And maybe I'll refuse to go on if nobody raises a hand, and they will be glad to see me go. Haha. Continuing, maybe I'll encourage them to read, not because they can become kings and knights and presidents and princesses and pirates and rockstars and dragonriders, but because when the dreary reality of life made of routines and bills and frustration and cheap food and obnoxious people, they will have something to fall back on. I will not tell them to completely detest reality. Hell, the world is so full of exciting things, nobody has the right to say he's bored. There are really just times when you need a detached reprieve.

Maybe I will tell them what I wish I have heard when I was 16 and jittery about taking the next step in my life. Maybe I'll confess to them that I am as lost as most of them are. But we'll get by. We'll deal. 

I really couldn't imagine myself advising high school graduates about life, not by 2014. Maybe by 2015 I'd have made so many blunders I could share an anecdote or two. Who knows.


*Apologies to Linkin Park