My so-called UP Education

On my third year as an undergraduate student of political science at the University of the Philippines, I went AWOL.

My parents couldn’t send me to school. My parents were jobless at that time: my father after suffering from a heart attack/stroke couldn’t pass his seaman’s physical exam anymore and my mother couldn’t find work as a teacher after having been a domestic home-maker for a number of years (the schools were looking for fresh and nubile graduates---or those with political connections). UP may have comparatively low tuition fees vis-à-vis other tertiary institutions but for us then, even my transportation expenses became a burden.

I decided to find work. I took on odd jobs until I got a job at the local factory. I never flaunted my being a UP student. That was, to me, more of a stigma than a badge of honor. I could imagine people talking behind my back: “if you really were a UP student, then what are you doing working here doing manual labor in a lowly factory?”

My work at the factory wasn’t bereft of grief or misfortunes. I was assigned to one of the most physically taxing jobs in the factory. But I focused on my work. I was never late nor absent and I did more than what was expected of me. A fortnight after my contract expired, they re-hired me. I was to become a regular factory hand. And for ten years, I was. (In a sense, I believe I shall always be that lowly factory hand no matter where I work).

Eventually my co-workers got to know my UP background but never from me. This was after I took helm of the cooperative and was elected as one of the top leaders of the labor union. My UP background therefore, did not really figure at all in the campaign. The best anyone can say about a product of UP education, I have gathered is that that person is “smart” or “matalino”---and that can either work for you or against you.

The best thing I got from my so-called “UP education” gave me is social concern. Concern for my fellow workers. I started to read the collective bargaining agreement and the company rules. I learned how some rules are made to stymie dissent and worker’s rights and I tried, in my own small way, to find ways around that; to explain the rules to my co-employees and to seek for better, fairer and more humane work conditions.

I think I have learned more from my factory work than from my two years of “UP education”.

Nevertheless, after a long hiatus, I decided to continue with my formal studies. My siblings have already finished college by then and I have no living parent to support anymore so I have run out of excuses not to. I may have learned much from my factory work but a diploma that hangs on a wall is, I have come to believe, the only piece of ‘education’ that is universally recognized by Filipinos. It’s funny though how people in the academe thinks the same way also. They would ask: “why did you stop studying?” when they meant to say why I stopped going to UP. I would just smile and refuse to answer or answer indirectly but in back of my mind, I would reply: “No, I have never stopped studying.”

And so here I am finally a graduate. But not before I lost my job due to the economic crunch and lost my position as a coop and union leader in the process. This was definitely not how I pictured my world will be after graduation.

Still, my spirit is undaunted. My hands will always be the hands of a laborer. My heart will always strive to serve the people. My mind will always be eager to learn.

So watch out, world: my education will continue.