It was raining, the perfect background for today’s bittersweet occasion. Graduating always seemed like a culmination—a cathartic end to years of hard work as a high school student. Dressing for the occasion felt different. There was the graduate’s attire of the coveted toga and graduation cap with the odd addition of a mask and face shield.
Kara Ching: “I do have a distinct memory of the graduation cap being quite uncomfortable to wear, so there was a little dread for the cap. [My graduation preparation was] arguably the same as everyone else, make-up, hair, etc. However, I [have always been] really uncomfortable being on stage or being on camera, so I took a couple of weeks before the pictorial day to mentally prepare myself for it.”
The commute brought back many old memories. There stood the same highway and that same intersection. BGC still had its colorful murals, bustling pedestrians, and green lamp posts. Taking a right turn, the car slowly pulled up towards a familiar green building.
Clad in a white toga, “long time no see” hardly seemed like an appropriate greeting for a graduate in the awe-filled silence of finally seeing an old friend again. It stood proud in all its glory, seemingly spared by the storms of change. It still had the same driveway, the same railed metal gates, and the same bright letters that proudly spelled my alma mater. However, allowing its outward façade to remain untouched, change had rendered its interior unrecognizable.
Stefi Uang: “There was a mix of emotions in me. It was nostalgic seeing the school still the same after more than a year of not entering it. I was tracing back the memories I had when we were all in school. It was upsetting seeing the school very empty when the hallways used to be brimming with students and their school bags.”
The auditorium seemed a beacon of light in the middle of dark pathways. From the entrance, a red carpet lined the pathway towards the stage. Several cameras dotted the sidelines with towering lights casting a faint luminescent glow. Familiar faces were present—faces long trapped behind a screen. Instructions were quickly handed out: where to stand, how to march in, and which camera to look into. Grad caps were donned, face shields were adjusted and togas were straightened. Cameras were poised and ready to film. It was time.
Keeping a measured pace, I began the ceremonial march in. Bright notes of Elgar’s “Pomp and Circumstance” painted the background with its melody. It was a solitary graduate’s march—alone without the warm camaraderie of fellow peers.
Mika Qua: “I gained a deeper respect for actors and models who can walk without awkwardness despite all the cameras and people focused on them. It is not easy!! The graduation song was playing, and my instinct was to just walk in time with the beat, but the cameraman kept telling me to walk slower.”
Crossing the red carpet, I reached the stage where my parents awaited me. I came face-to-face with teachers and members of the school board, whom I have not seen in months, as I ascended the stage. Hearing my name announced for the final time, I picked up the diploma that was laid on the table.
Mika Qua: “As a measure to minimize contact, I did not receive my diploma; I took it from a table myself, as instructed. ‘How fitting,’ I thought, as that really is how we get our diplomas: we must work for them ourselves, under the instruction of our teachers and parents; they will not be simply handed to us by others.”
Sam Tongco: “The wait was worth it. The stress and tears that have amassed in my high school years seemed trivial during my graduation march. All I could think of was that we, as a batch, were able to power through six years of high school, with one and a half of it being during a global pandemic.”
Alone, in the middle of the stage, I was finally instructed to move my tassel from right to left. A small but significant mark of a graduate. Reaching the final crescendo, I finally threw my graduation cap up into the air—a testament to the end of my happy high school years.
Sam Tongco: “We've fought, cried, and laughed together on so many occasions that I barely remember what we were doing but how it felt to work with a group of such amazing, talented, and driven people that would never take anything but perfection. Although we weren't together physically during the graduation ceremony, I'm sure everyone was cheering each other on from their living rooms, using the opportunity to catch up and ask about their plans for the future.”
Mika Qua: “I am going to miss my teachers so much—the warmth with which they teach and the care they put into their lessons. The relationships our teachers cultivated with us make it harder to leave because my heart is heavy—not from sadness, but from all the good things they've filled it with.”
There were no group hugs, no exchanging yearbooks, no pictures to keep as mementos. It hardly seemed like a graduation or the closure anyone had hoped for.
Michelle Lim: “Driving past school as we left really kicked the nostalgia up a million levels. I recalled all the lessons learned both in and out of the classroom, the memories made from class projects to batch dances, and the friends made and prematurely lost. I felt grateful for being able to still go back to school for the graduation pictorial and give a proper goodbye for all the years I spent there.”
Stefi Uang: “I've been waiting for graduation ever since I started senior high school, but now that I've finally reached it, it's hard to believe that I am actually moving on from MGC New Life. I have basically spent my whole life in this school, so graduating is really like leaving home.”
As the sun began to set, the familiar green building faded into the dark city landscape. Until the next homecoming, it’s goodbye for now.
*interview responses have been edited for length and clarity
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