Mood:
on fireI’ve been reading the last issue of The Scholastican. Our first independent newspaper. My resurgence issue. At least, that’s how I thought it would be…I flipped through the pages and reread the articles. I have read these articles a million times and I still find something wrong in it. Half-amused, I put it down. Disappointment settled in.
It still wasn’t my best.
Sure. I have the most number of by-lines in it. Still, the number of articles never defines a good writer. The approaches were different per story. But there was still something missing…or maybe my perspective just changed. I remember when the Junior Editors would crowd in Jen’s place just to finish editing and lay-outing the paper. The idea of a better newspaper suddenly popped in my head.
Oh, I forgot, we were aiming for the best year-ender issue.
We wanted to prove that everything would be better this time as compared to the previous ones. We all matured a lot. I even bought a book to help us understand the technicalities of the newspaper industry. We, the four junior editors, were new editors after all.
No experiences. No orientations. Just positions.
We know nothing of what to do and what should be done. We were all dependent on the senior editors, who, I must say, had been neglecting us. Was the term ‘neglecting’ the right word? I can’t say. Maybe it’s too strong, or maybe it’s a weak word to describe what the organization went through last year.
When I was appointed as the News Editor, only one person was not glad for me; my cousin, who, had been the person that I wanted to hear the heartiest congratulations. When I broke the news, her words were not the usual “Astig ka!” or “Congrats, ang galing!” that she often tells me; it was an emotionless “Mahirap maging Editor, lalo na kapag sa News Section ng paper.”
I really felt disappointed during that time. The person, who I had looked up to in writing, doesn’t even care that I have been promoted to a higher position. Does she find me incapable? My first instinct was to prove her wrong. I can do it.
After a dozen of disappointing feedbacks from critics, I was in the dumps. Maybe I couldn’t do it after all. Maybe I was just aiming too high. Maybe I haven’t reached my goal yet; I am still dreaming…
What was my goal anyway? I can’t remember what it was. All I know is that I have to present a better News Section to make up for the previous lousy ones. I don’t want to hear another negative reaction from the people in office. I don’t want to be degraded again.
Sad as it may sound, the school paper sunk into worthlessness, dragging my name with it. Or rather, I dragged the publication’s name to shame. The question of credibility, ability, and talent all came up. I was the laughing stock of the publication. Every finger was suddenly pointed at me. Total Humiliation. I was failing for the first time in my life (Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie, 1991).
My cousin was right. It is hard to be a News Editor. My first instinct was to quit the team; I’m sure anyone in my position would do the same. I’ve made up my mind: writing for newspapers no longer suits me. The failures burned me out and made me reorganize my goals. Am I aiming for the wrong one? I always thought I have a place in writing; but that place closed its doors and shut me outside.
I was no longer welcome.
Out of responsibility, I decided to prolong my suffering and leave the team after the last issue gets published. In that way, I won’t be labeled as “mangiiwan sa ere” or “iresponsable”. My resignation letter was ready for printing. I was only waiting for the right time.
Only, the right time never came.
The school publication was released beyond the allotted time. The date in my letter expired. The mediocre issue came up. The editorial exams took place. Technically, we were no longer editors and my letter still needs an addressee. More so, someone pulled me out and dragged me harshly from my half-asleep reality; questioning my cowardice.
My mentor came in and said, “Kung may pagkakataon kang baguhin ang isang bagay, gawin mo. Para bago ka grumadweyt, makatingin ka ng diretso sa mga professors mo…” No, she was not my cousin; she was the former Editor-in-Chief of The Scholastican. She was the strong-but-lenient woman who had been the brain behind the astounding success of the school publication when I was still making my way as a writer.
I was able to contact her through a fellow editor and we ended up drinking cappuccino while discussing the dilemma. My dilemma. She told us stories about the publication that I’ve never heard before. I was already sitting comfortably with her when she dropped a question that made me contemplate; and I hated her for that. She asked the question and answered it herself; I can only affirm what she said. It was, after all, what I felt during that time. I guess that’s what makes her a good leader; she can be sensitive and insensitive at the same time.
Everything changed after that. I am no longer the coward person that was willing to give up without a real fight. Before I became an editor, I was a writer; and before I became a writer, I began as a student and I am still, above anything else, a student.
Why do I write? Because I want to express myself. Aside from that, I learned from a writer who works in the radio station where I did my practicum that writing in the school publication is service. Then it hit me, I am a writer; I should not wager away from that road. I don’t write to impress people; I don’t write for our detractors. The reason behind my passion is to inform the students and nothing else.
It is always easier to read than to write. As a person who has the capability to organize my thoughts, I should use it to inform the majority. I now understand why people are trying their best to hold the school publication. I now know why someone is vying for the much-coveted position of Chief Editor.
Yeah. Maybe I understood a lot of things in this journey. We all did. Marge, Jen, Febbie, and I had been trying our best to please the higher people in the past issues. We were all struggling to reach perfection so that we would no longer hear anything against us. This way, we won’t be compared to other people and to other publications.
We were all running after the wrong goal and I realized that mistake now. As much as we tried to make the last issue an independent one, it still shows how we strayed from our mission. We were still dependent on the idea that someone might say something degrading about it. We were writing for the wrong people.
Despite all the time constraints and negative reactions we got from our critics, we still gave our best. Yes, it was our best during that time. It might not be our best now because we have matured and we have improved through time. But it was the best we could provide at that moment.
Everyday, I still face the constant struggle to improve myself; not just in writing but in other areas as well. We should not be blinded by what we have achieved. Sooner or later, much more will be expected from us and we have to be ready to give back what we have. If we can’t return the expectation, we get ostracized and compared to other people, even if we are better than them.
I haven’t opened my Guide to English Grammar book since Grade School. I open it now and although I have read it a number of times before, I am still learning something new whenever I skim through it. That’s the constant challenge in us, writers; we have to know more than our readers, but we don’t have to meet the level of our critics.
Sometimes, it is always better to hear them criticize our work. At least, we know someone took the time to read our efforts and motivate us to improve our style. A heartfelt thank you goes to our detractors, for making us strong enough to admit our mistakes and for pushing us to be better writers.
Here’s a fact, even if we can, we will never meet the standards of our critics, because if we do, we are neglecting the needs of our target readers, the students. The Scholastican continuously runs for 58 years (we’re turning 59 this year!) to inform the studentry; we act as mediators between the administration and the students. We do not intend to impress the people in office. This is our voice; and no one can tell us what to say and what not to say.
“I am a witness to the suffering of my people. I am a chronicler of truth and a catalyst of change.”
not sure
down
rushed
silly
bright
lyrical
caffeinated
sad