Where do we go from here?

St. Theresa’s College graduates of 1961 are preparing, rather frantically, for their Diamond Jubilee, to be celebrated in February 2022. Actually, I’m speaking strictly of only eight members of our class who agreed, perhaps without thinking, to present a number for the occasion, when we could have made it easier for ourselves if we opted to just present a collage of old pictures with a voice-over annotation.

But that’s not us. We didn’t become Diamond girls to back out of what could be our last challenge from our alma mater. Besides, after Diamond, there will be no more presentations. Through the years, we somehow managed to make a success of every milestone jubilee presentation. It was all a matter of putting the right girls in charge.

These weren’t necessarily the intellectuals of the class, but the smart, clear-minded girls, the ones who, with feet on the ground, got things done. We’ve known who they are, and they seem to get even better, the girls born to lead.

Clearer vision

They somehow had a clearer vision than anybody else, and, despite limitations and sometimes against all odds, they somehow made things happen. Under their leadership, the endeavors gave all of us a sense of accomplishment, not to mention that we undertook them amid a lot of laughter. It was efficient that they knew whom to delegate the work and always spread the credits. They also raised and managed resources well. Well, as it happens, I could be describing any of the last eight women standing in our group.

It was the same in the other schools I attended. I was in Maryknoll for grade school and in St. Theresa’s (Quezon City) for high school and, after two years in Spain under the Teresianas, learning languages and art and culture, was in St. Theresa’s (Manila) for college, at age 17, for my AB Journalism.

Through all those years of physical separation we were held together and led to achieve goals and projects by our class representatives. It was because of their patience and tireless efforts that I never lost touch with classmates.

For my part, I made it a point to be there when I could, and was all the happier for it. I gamely joined their projects, get-togethers, excursions, even foreign trips—these sometimes have accommodated husbands. These class leaders always came through, such that we ourselves were surprised by what we could do—under good leaders.

But let me say this: All those different schools and different classmates will remain part of my whole persona, but I am a Theresian first—and twice over—and proudly so.

My college class has always been a gutsy group, and we are not about to lose our nerve at this point. I have no doubt we are going to pull it off again. Us being the oldest class performing, the younger classes will make up our audience and should be predisposed to enjoy whatever we present. In fact, we could expect them applauding in wonder just by seeing us show up, or we could have them on their feet begging for more by completely bombing on stage and making a mess, to their not unexpected affectionate delight.

The other alternative, would be that we execute our five-minute performance with fair precision, and, yes, with humor, too, but also with class and grace, thus raising the bar for the next Diamond Jubilarians.

Ambitious goal

For this ambitious goal, we’ve hired a professional who knows her business as well as her cast of octogenarians—what they can and cannot do—or have no business doing. Due to the pandemic, we have to use Zoom or FaceTime for both practice and the actual performance. Admittedly, a few of us are technologically challenged.

Meanwhile, we’re busy memorizing the lyrics and tune of our song and, as soon as we have it, we will tackle the choreography. Quite challenging, but doable. We are, after all, the fearless Diamond girls.

Indeed, how could we fail? Come to think of it, diamond does describe us well. More than hard, we possess inner strength. A polished, multifaceted specimen of it, as we like to think of ourselves, we absorb light only to give it exponentially back.

We’ve certainly come a long way from the original carbon we once were; after a lifetime of shedding, scraping, stripping, and polishing, no other piece of gem should have a higher dispersion of light, caused by the separation of white light into the colors of the spectrum as it passes through the stone, giving it what is sometimes called ice fire. Well, that combines well with a sense of humor.

After a long hard climb, we’ve reached the top of the mountain. That’s where we are. The view is intoxicatingly magnificent. Yet, some unimaginative people might ask, “But where do you go from there?”

Well, some of us may look back contentedly and marvel at how we have survived and thrived, but all of us doubtless will go on living the rest of our lives in gratitude for everything, good and hard. At certain points, we will very naturally turn our gaze to the sky and behold the million other diamonds sparkling and twinkling in the heavens—our very own destination. But, until we join them, we have yet a lot of fire and light and sparkle to give all these remaining bonus years.

We didn’t become Diamond girls to back out of what could be our last challenge from our alma mater