Moving up and carrying on

published 31 March 2008

My youngest son Elmo’s pre-school had scheduled a “Moving Up Ceremony” tomorrow, the first of April, so that every non-graduating little boy and girl would have the opportunity to get up on stage, receive a piece of rolled-up paper, have a recognition ribbon pinned to his or her chest and take a bow, alongside a beaming mom or dad.

Unfortunately, chicken pox downed most of the kids in the six sections of the three-level (Junior Casa, Senior Casa and Advanced Casa) school. Elmo, who is in Senior Casa, himself stayed home for an entire week and missed parts of his final exam. Administrators then had to scrap the Moving Up Day for the two lower batches and settled only for the traditional graduation rites for those who would be moving on to the first grade. The cute recognition ribbons were then only distributed to the children during their farewell party. Elmo was named Most Humble and Most Improved.

Sayang. The Moving Up Ceremony sounded like a really nice idea.

It is the first I’ve heard that attempted to recognize anybody who finished the school year, not necessary pre-school, elementary, high school or college. Of course it may just as well be consuelo de bobo for the little ones and a photo-op for their excited parents.

I’m glad I only have to go to one graduation rite this year—my sixth grader's. These ceremonies, and it doesn’t matter what school you are talking about, have become predictable and trite.

It’s the same year after year as it has been during my time. Maybe public schools have it worse, because they get to suffer the inordinately long speeches of city or municipal officials who say, as if we didn’t know it already, “ang kabataan ay ang pag-asa ng bayan.” I wonder whether they realize that’s unthinkingly burdening children with the task of undoing the follies of those that came before them. Us included.

Over the years, these practices have demoted a genuine cause for celebration (not just for the college graduates and their relieved parents) into a mere matter of course. These have led many to dismiss the occasion’s significance.

At least vacation is here, and most parents greet it with relief. Sure, we complain about the heat and all, but generally we are thankful that we get to rest as well from the daily grind of fretting about what to feed them, how to make them adopt better study habits, when the next tuition installment is due, what activity is coming up, and the list goes on.

In a sense it’s also vacation time for parents, even if they are working ones.

But what do you do on vacation? The treats, big or small, are a given. And so are the summer activities that you hope would turn them into better-rounded persons. It is also a good time to evaluate what went well (and what went wrong) in the school year that ended. Graduation is not limited to senior kinder, grade six, and fourth year students. Every year, kids graduate from their own levels and pause awhile before embarking on something new, something a notch more difficult. It’s vacation all right but it’s also Moving Up Period.

***

I do not purport to be getting chummy with a prominent family, but last week, when the news broke out that former President Cory Aquino had been diagnosed with colon cancer, I was more interested than I would have been had it concerned any other personality.

I found it an unfortunate twist of fate. Sometime in 1990 or 1991, the former President herself visited my own mother, sick—with the same disease—at the Chinese General Hospital.

I must have been in first or second year high school then. No I wasn’t around. I was in school, but when I arrived at the hospital later that day, the nurses were still abuzz with excitement. “Sikat kayo,” they said. “Cory was here.”

That was not surprising. My mom was a reporter for this newspaper and the Palace was her beat. She was a member of the Malacañang Press Corps and naturally was at the President’s heels all the time. She took pride in her job. In fact, the most prominent photo in our house then was an enlarged one of her and Aquino. You would not miss it as you entered the door.

I remember thinking then, how kind of President Cory to visit. She didn’t have to. Somebody else had started covering Malacañang when my mom’s confinements had become more regular and prolonged. We did not know whether she would ever be able to get back to work. (She never did, she died in October 1992).

But anyway. Last week, another newspaper’s banner said: “Nation prays for Cory.” But when we pray for persons who are sick, what exactly do we ask God to do?

Immediate family members would of course be praying that their loved one be cured. No doubt, the Aquinos would have no difficulty having access to the most sophisticated treatments available. They would not have to bear the extra burden of wondering whether they would be able to exhaust all means to get the former President back to good health.

But prayers take on different forms and then evolve. Some pray that the person be able to accept his or her situation and remain optimistic and productive. Some pray that they carry out with whatever it is they are doing—a profession, a relationship, an advocacy—in spite of the uncertainties that lie ahead.

Some pray, like we did towards the end, that the physical sufferings of our loved one end and that they make peace with themselves.

On the other hand, some family members may pray for themselves, for the strength to be resigned to the will of the Almighty, whatever that maybe. Others ask for the perseverance—and the constancy—to care for the sick well.

At any rate, they say there are no unanswered prayers. Sometimes, we ask for one thing, believing it to be the best. And then we get another answer. It turns out that what we initially asked for was not the best, after all. It’s not our fault we didn’t know it.

How comforting there’s Somebody who’s more than human to figure it out for us.