I do not wish to dwell in melodrama

This was my valedictory audition piece for my college graduation. My theme revolved around service to others and to our country. Sadly, I didn’t make it but here I am sharing it to all. 

In an occasion like this, the speaker starts with warm greetings. By virtue of tradition, it has to be that way.

Let me go against the convention though, as I am not quite inclined to calling this day pleasant—at least not when this country still reels from the trauma of recent political insurgency and natural calamity.

I do not wish to dwell in melodrama, as if I am the chosen figure to rock this country or the world to its awakening. But if I were to do my part, I desire that each of us feel the sorrows and pains of life today, so that our joy may not take us away from what we ought to face, a life we ought to give the world, and the color we ought to paint it with.

I greet you with such reality as I grab this chance of offering a piece of my consciousness to the wounded humanity and to this country that struggles to hurdle the odds—with sweat, blood, and dignity at stake—hoping that with this unlikely tone I may be drawing out the very reason why we are here today.

Let us look at we have accomplished as an institution: productivity exceeded—given our number and the confidence you have in us to boot, reputation elevated, stability sustained, and I must say—loyalty gained. In my four years in and with this community, never have I thought of seeing feat in this light. As a freshman back when I first stepped on this unfamiliar ground, I was not the man you would see today. My hard work did not automatically mean an investment to whatever little things I may have given this university. It was simply for myself. My concerns revolved around having to prove myself and in doing so, I had to learn efficiency through a great number of mistakes—those that pierced my little sense of security, not to mention my fair share of personal battles for love and self-affirmation that were beaten by the more persevering and stronger odds. I had my dose of at least something that didn’t ease pain, but rather caused its. My resort—to which you would all agree—was to make sure I took good care of myself. Who would ever throw dissent at self-empowerment? Weren’t we all taught and raised to be the best version of ourselves? To me, maybe just like anybody else, being the best was to make sure I stand unshaken, raising the banner of my reputable self. But this facet of human growth does not come close to the nobility of service. When I rested from focusing on myself, it did not mean I was forgetting to be who I really am. Four years is not long enough, not when we believe service is synonymous to time. Our time is all we have, and so service is all we have with our time.

Remember the push we got the first time we ever set foot in school? While we were motivated to excel, our potential were never measured by how much we did for ourselves, but how much we could do for others. I did not come to understand it until I saw the bigness of the world I live in. Service began to come across as something I should do as an inhabitant of this world. Service must spread out into how far I could reach, into how my capacity and compassion could touch lives. I hope I am not making it sound beyond how it should only do. If I appear to be fooling around my words, I wish I wouldn’t be fool enough to miss it for the world.

Over time, I have had many doubts on my capacity to bring about change. Today, I would like to believe that what I have gone through for the past four years as a member of this community—or perhaps family—has caused my own awakening. I could do more, and with the time I have, I would like to serve within my capacity, or maybe beyond it. Leaving this university is moving on to fulfill such. I would like to give this world the love it deserves while it goes through pain. And if you say it holds true to your ideals, maybe then these last words would be most suited: A pleasant day!