…

I’ve waited so long for this moment. The moment I’d hear my name called. The moment I’d step onto the stage, take my hard-earned diploma, smile at the camera for four seconds, and walk back to my seat thinking, “This is it. I did it.”

And I did.
Now what?

Love you, Ma! But I’m not your retirement plan

“Mag-abroad ka, maraming pera doon.” 

“Tumulong ka muna sa mga bilihin at gastusin ah.” 

“Anong art-art sinasabi mo? Wala kang kikitain diyan.” 

“Kailan mo ba kami bibigyan ng apo?”

These are the common questions faced by graduates, mostly from parents who think their child is their retirement plan. Sandali lang ah! Plus, the looming anxiety of running into distant relatives during family reunions. You know the type—the ones who haven’t seen you in years but somehow feel entitled to assess every ounce of life decisions you’ve ever made. 

Pursue a creative career that doesn’t pay much? You’re a disappointment. Pursue a high-paying job? Suddenly, they want a piece. “Uy, isunod mo ako d’yan ah!” or “Balato ha, ‘pag yumaman ka.” 

Don’t get me wrong—my parents are supportive of my choices. But this kind of pressure is something I’ve witnessed in the lives of many friends and relatives. It has taken a toll on me. 

8 to 5, just to stay alive

Reality struck hard when I finally realized that from here on out, I’m on my own. I’m expected to land a job that will take up one-third of my daily life—eight hours of labor, five or six days a week—just to earn a wage that’s barely enough to live. And supporting a family? That’s off the table. All that would do is make those digits further disappear.

I can’t imagine doing this for years. Well, no offense to our working class, but staying in a corporate grind won’t exactly lead to that travel-all-you-can kind of success. I don’t want to end up like some of my family or friends—stuck in a desk job, just trying to survive each day, over and over, until they reach their deathbeds. 

But then again, bold of me to say that, considering I’m not even sure if I’ll land a job at all. Ang daya naman kasi. Bakit may backer kayo? Ay, oops.

It’s not just about employment. It’s about the quiet dread of wasting and losing your time, your energy, and maybe even your identity, just to survive in a system that was never designed to be fair.

Work, pay, survive, repeat

Bills, shelter, and food: the three basic needs that not everyone can afford. Monthly expenses will slap you in the face every paycheck. It’s an endless cycle that makes you wonder: Are we working to live, or living to work?

The Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA) reported in 2023 that a family of five needs about P13,797 per month to cover basic food and non-food needs. But with rising inflation, stagnant wages, and unpredictable living costs, just that baseline feels out of reach. That’s roughly P90 per person per day—an amount that, in today’s economy, can barely cover essentials, let alone a single nutritious meal..

So what happens? You cut costs and set aside your wants—or worse, your needs—just to support yourself (or your family). 

No fairy tale ending

Sorry to disappoint you, but this isn’t a feel-good narrative. Let reality hit you: Life is unfair.

There’s no magical assurance that working hard guarantees success. Just look at our farmers who are enduring the excruciating heat every day to harvest the food we put on our tables, yet ironically, are also the ones who can’t afford a proper meal. 

If effort alone determined success, those who receive dirty looks from elitists would be the richest in the country.

But here’s what I’ll tell you, graduate: Behind all the chaos, inequality, and contradiction, we are still capable of creating change—maybe not on a grand scale right away, but certainly for the people around us. We just need to show up, speak up, and get involved.

Life doesn’t end where it starts. And now that we hold the steering wheel, we have the power to shape the future in our direction, the way we want it. This is the real reason why we’re being let into the real world—not just to survive, but to change it.

***

Don’t mind my rambling—maybe it’s just my way of holding on a little longer and savoring the last few days of being a student. Or maybe, it’s simply an excuse to write one final article as a student journalist. I hope my editors won’t mind.

When I was a child, I once complained to my dad about wanting to grow up faster since I was eager to do the things adults could do. 

He gently told me not to rush through my youth, because one day, I would miss it. 

I believed him. So, I tried. I tried to enjoy every moment: laughed as much as I could, and made memories I thought would last forever… But time still moved too quickly.

As I walked through our University Lane to complete my student clearance, I passed by empty canteen tables, quiet classrooms, and still study areas—soon to be filled again with laughter, nervous chatter, and the quiet sobs of new students finding their way. 

Oh, to be a student forever.

It’s just… I’m certain that I’m going to miss this more than I’ll be able to say it. I’ll miss my friends, the late-night cramming sessions, the shared laughter and silent panic before exams, the random hallway conversations, and the fun chaos with my org-mates.

…I will miss being a student.