Never too late

I’m not an on-time graduate.

Sitting next to a college student, I was on a jeepney ride going to school to file a Leave of Absence (LOA). The student next to me handed his fare and said “Manong, bayad po.

Estudyante.” I was about to hand my own fare when a sudden thought struck me in the face. Will I pay for my fare as a student or not? Technically, I’m not enrolled. But I’m a student. This battle of thoughts went for minutes until I decided to pay for the regular fee. No discount. Okay, it is settled. I’m not enrolled, ergo, not a student. In fact I’m on my way to file a leave application. My second leave application. Wait, second?

I had already gone on a leave before. Financial reason. I’m paying quite a sum for my education. A single financial problem puts my study in jeopardy. And now, I’m on my way to school for another leave application, this time, because of course offerings. I could not enrol in any of my subjects since none of them is offered this semester. I’m now a year late for graduation. Who cares? It’s just a year, I console myself. But the reality hit me so hard in the face I want to spit out every self-destructing idea I have of myself. It just dawned on me that including the two years I spent taking a previous course I never really wanted, I’m actually delayed from graduating by three years.

I am calmly seated until a familiar face approached me inside the jeepney. It’s a highschool classmate on her way to work. Cool. Another way of telling me that my life is a mess. My batchmates are already working, and me? Nah, still in school. A conversation starts and every update I get from her on whereabouts of our other classmates is giving me a reason to get off and ride another jeep instead. Some of our classmates are working; some are taking their Master’s degrees; while some are taking up Law or Medicine. What took me so long? What is taking me so long?

If college were a race, I’m probably inches away from the gun start. If college were a song, I’m verses away from the chorus. If college were a child turning into an adult, I’m way too far from puberty.

But one thing about college still makes me smile. College is not and never will be timed and measured. It has taken me a lot of time to graduate. And God forbid, I hope not too much more time. I’ve already spent seven years of my entire life in my undergrad course.

At that point, I had a sudden panic attack. I hate myself for shifting courses. I hate myself for shifting schools. I hate myself for not making the cut in the prerequisite courses, delaying me even more. I hate myself everytime I see graduation pictures all over social media. I hate myself everytime a relative asks me about my job when I’m not even close to taking my thesis. I hate myself everytime I claim being a student on every jeepney fare I spend.

But you know what self-hate can do? Nothing. It will just consume your self- trust and eat your time, leaving you helpless and feeling sorry for yourself. So what if I changed courses? At least I get to take what I really want to, rather than taking something I’m not even sure of. So what if I changed schools? It’s all about growth. So what if I’m not even close to working? I have all the time to be ready for the real world. So what if I haven’t had my graduation picture taken? I’ll avail myself all the photo packages and upload them after everyone is done with theirs. So what if I’ve been paying as a student since then? At least I have the opportunity to study.

I was queuing for my school records when I decided not to apply for a leave that day. Instead, I paused for a while. I headed out of the school and went to a coffee shop. I treated myself to a latte. What for? To celebrate my not graduating on time? No. I decided to reward myself for the seven years I worked hard and kept myself from quitting. A reward for not blaming my parents on not graduating but to reward myself for the support I’ve been receiving. If I had been rotten in those seven years, there’s my family who still doesn’t quit on me. That alone is enough cause for celebration.

Finishing late doesn’t make me less of a graduate and never less of a degree holder. The finish line never ceases. It waits right there. It is never too late for anybody. Not even anyone when it comes to education. Not because we’re delayed doesn’t mean we’re not getting there. Just because it’s late doesn’t mean it’s never worth anything. The competency that the years I spent studying have given me is always worth the work and time.

It took God seven days to create the world. It will take me seven years (God, please no more extension!) to finish college. I’m up to something great.