Had I graduated last year, my Sablay essay would probably center on the theme of rain. It was Friday, August 2, my first day as a UP student, and Mayor Joy Belmonte canceled classes. Rain poured so hard on campus that after my first Math 21 class (where I was late), we were all told to go home already. And four years later, when we were about to receive our degrees, rain poured so hard again that the university had to cut short the commencement exercises to less than 30 minutes.

Of course, that didn’t happen. What was supposed to be four years of the BS Physics program, I made five. Consequently, I didn’t have to get drenched in rain in my Sablay attire, nor be forced to hear the UP president’s self-aggrandizing commencement speech (which was recorded and shown later due to the cancellation). And in a whirlwind of events, somehow, I landed on the school on the other side of Katipunan—in its Rockwell campus, though.

Here, rain once again suspended our classes—on the second day—brought by monsoon rains intensified by Super Typhoon Carina (international name: Gaemi). We were probably granted a last-minute reprieve to read more or anew on the cases assigned to us. And again, on the third day of classes, Ateneo once again suspended classes.

The fact that monsoon rains ravaged the Metro and nearby areas days before the UP Diliman completion ceremonies tells us that there is much to be done in the coming days: to volunteer, to help in whatever way we can, and, equally important, to hold the government accountable, especially when just days prior, it boasted about thousands of completed flood control projects.

But on a more personal note, this forced isolation brought by the bad weather and class suspensions allowed me to reckon with the whirlwind the past few days were.

When I entered the university, I promised myself to be more circumspect and discerning. In other words, not all fights are worth fighting for—one must choose battles, carefully.

The Latin honors was one of those.

I will not be graduating with the coveted honors, despite my grades reaching the threshold. It was because I did not enroll in any courses in the last two semesters. That made me underload and, consequently, disqualified for honors.

In my head, I already have all the possible arguments to put forward to the relevant offices: that my GWA was already fixed before the semesters of underloading; that I sufficiently demonstrated the necessity of the underloading as I was only completing my thesis; that my underloading did not matter in the computation of my final GWA. I would’ve possibly written a lengthy appeal letter to that effect. I would’ve possibly mobilized the English language to rally my cause.

But when you’re already a year late with life and a year overdue in university, life sometimes tells you that an extra laurel isn’t what you need. Nor will life tell you that the many back-and-forth between Makati and Diliman isn’t worth it for that award.

A friend told me, months back, that one can appeal for honors after graduation. But, then again, is it a fight worth fighting? UP and the last five years have already given me countless disappointments and setbacks. Why will I add one last more on the way out of the door? That’s peak masochism.

Graduation isn’t all that jumpy and happy, it seems. Saturday and Sunday will just pass like normal days. On Saturday, I will attend my classes. On Sunday, I will don my Sablay attire and make quick of the ceremony that will grant me my hard-earned undergraduate degree. And at that very moment, regardless if the sky cries or not, it is finished. The sunflowers have bloomed for me, and that’s already more than enough.

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