In Grade 6, school sections were no longer based on academic ranking, yet I stayed in Section 1 with familiar classmates. I lived under my valedictorian brother’s shadow, with teachers comparing us. Mrs. Santos, our English teacher, tested us to reclassify students and taught us songs like One Little Candle, which stayed with me. I faced bullying karma, sold camote cue to buy supplies, and graduated without honors, but quietly proud but wishing Mama had shown up for me at least to have a graduation remembrance photo.
A change in year section classification
By the time I reached Grade 6, I was grateful to still be in Section 1. But that year, the school system changed. Sections were no longer based strictly on academic performance. Classes were mixed, with students of varying abilities grouped together. Fortunately, I still had some of my favorite classmates with me, Dennis Guangco, Glenn Alegarbes, Ariel Quijano, and Felipe Abarquez. As for the girls in class, I wasn’t particularly close to any of them, which was also true for the rest of my barkada.
Cannot avoid to be compared to my older sibling
photo above: Junjun during his grade school graduation as the class valedictorian with Mama, Mrs. Santos, and Mr. Gantuangco
Our adviser was Mrs. Santos, who also taught English. She was a good and competent teacher, though I clearly remember a moment during enrollment when she asked my mother, “Is he also intelligent?” My mother responded candidly, “Not quite.” That comparison was inevitable, my brother Junjun had just graduated as class valedictorian the year before.
I remember that graduation vividly. Junjun almost didn’t make it to the ceremony due to a disagreement with our parents. I never found out what it was really about, possibly something as trivial as what he wore, or maybe our parents’ hesitation to attend. We siblings always felt our parents weren’t the expressive type when it came to showing pride in our achievements.
photo above: my sister May when she was in grade 5 receiving a medal as an honor student from the class adviser Mrs. Cagigas
My sister May, for example, received honors in Grade V, but it was our teacher, Mrs. Cagigas, who pinned the ribbons on her because our parents weren’t there. Still, that day, I walked to school early and sat near the stage. Thankfully, Junjun showed up with them just in time to deliver his valedictory speech, and I was proud.
Our English teacher screened students to be in her class
Back in our Grade 6 class, Mrs. Santos wasn’t happy with the mixed-section system. To reassess our standing, she gave us a screening test in English. We had to read a story and answer four questions. I got 2 out of 4, same as my intelligent classmate Felipe, who later graduated as our valedictorian. Only a few scored 3 or 4. So, those of us who got at least 2 were kept in Section 1.
Popular songs taught by our class adviser
Mrs. Santos also had a love for teaching songs. One of them was “Service”. Another one was my favorite, “One Little Candle”. We sang that same song again during our Junior-Senior Prom in third-year in the later years during my high school days. Two years later, we sang it once more during a formation program at San Agustin Seminary in Makati, as part of a candle-lighting presentation. That song saved our group’s performance, since we had little else to show.
Here is the lyrics and music of the song:
One Little Candle
It is better to light just one little candle,
Than to stumble in the dark!
Better far that you light just one little candle,
All you need is a tiny spark!
If we'd all say a prayer that the world would be free,
The wonderful dawn of a new day we'd see!
And, if everyone lit just one little candle,
What a bright world this would be!
It is better to light just one little candle,
Than to stumble in the dark!
Better far that you light just one little candle,
All you need is a tiny spark!
If we'd all say a prayer that the world would be free,
The wonderful dawn of a new day we'd see!
And, if everyone lit just one little candle,
What a bright world this would be!
What a bright world
This would be!
A teacher's way to motivate the students
We had other memorable teachers too. Mrs. Bacayo, who taught Health and Science, was strict, sometimes excessively so. When I failed to answer a question, she once pinched the hair near my ear, and sometimes even pinched armpits. Then there was Mrs. Kiamco, whose teaching style leaned more toward reward-based approach. She gave 25 centavos to anyone who got a perfect score in her quizzes. One time, I was the only one who supposedly got a perfect score. I realized afterward I had an error, but I had already corrected it on the paper before my classmates could point it out. Because I didn’t want her to feel let down, I kept it as it is. But on many occasions I truly got perfect scores.
Receiving my own dose of medicine as a bully
I had a tight-knit barkada that year. Being part of a group gave me a sense of confidence, perhaps too much. We sometimes looked down on other classmates, especially those we considered unattractive. There was a girl named Marietta, dark-skinned with curly hair, and we cruelly teased her by calling her “matsing,” meaning monkey. One day, she hit me hard with a broomstick out of anger. It hurt like hell that I endured for days, but I pretended it didn’t.
A teacher perfectionist
In the afternoons, we had Industrial Arts in the large workshop building. Our teacher, Mr. Abosolo, was a master of his craft. He taught us technical drawing, lettering, carpentry, and other skills. He was a strict grader, one mistake and your score was zero. Luckily, I always managed to get perfect scores.
I was taught how to be resourceful
Outside school, my childhood remained full of play. Nearby, opposite our home, was a fine patch of earth where neighborhood kids gathered, under the shade of coconut trees and surrounded by banana plants. In a nearby bamboo hut with a cement floor and nipa roof, older boys played hantak (a coin-flipping gambling game) and cards. I often watched them.
One time, I desperately needed a Pentel pen for an Industrial Arts project, but Mama couldn’t give me money. Instead, she asked me to buy a kilo of camote (sweet potato), at 1.80 pesos a kilo, cut them into cubes and cooked them in oil with sugar to make it into a "camote cue" to sell. I sold them for 50 centavos a stick in that hut full of boy-gamblers. Only then I was able to pay and buy a Pentel pen.
Graduation
As graduation neared, my friends and I started talking about high school. Felipe considered enrolling at a technical school in the city, where admission required an average of at least 85. But I later saw him enrolled at Gullas High School, likely for the same reason I didn't go to a technical school in the city, because of monetary constraints.
March 1980 came, and I finally graduated from elementary school.
The ceremony was held at the Pardo Parish Church. I didn’t receive any honors, though I secretly hoped for at least one award. A district-wide exam was given, and whoever got the highest score in each subject was to be recognized. I scored 95 in English, the highest, except I tied with Christine Unabia, a teacher’s daughter. So she got the award.
After the ceremony, I looked for Mama. She was nowhere to be found. I waited in the church so I could have a graduation photo taken, but she never came. I eventually returned to school for lunch.
I still managed to have my graduation picture taken though most of my classmates had gone home already.
photo above: incomplete pic of the Graduates of Grade 6 section 1 (Amethyst), SY 1979-1980 , Pardo Elementary School (the only photo I had on my graduation day).