Signed and sealed

Signed and sealed.

The author of the article is nearly the same age as I am. Probably, we graduated high school the same year or maybe she graduated a year earlier.

I do not know her personally. The only common denominator that I know exists between us is this: we both received what she called “the finest education the country had to offer.”

After reading the article, I tried to remember my own signing day. It surprised me how, for a very sentimental person, I could not recall much details. I could neither remember what I wore nor how I felt about the then dismal surroundings. But I do remember that I was excited. Back then, I thought I was living the dream.

I, too remember that I had to sign lots of forms. When we arrived, my mother and I were quickly ushered into a cramped room where we moved from table to table, talking to people who explained to us that the privilege of studying in the school comes with an obligation to the country. I remember not paying much attention for i just wanted to finish the enrollment to process to make things official. When I realized that I had finally signed the last document, I felt like I have succeeded in securing my future. By affixing the last signature, I sealed my fate as a person of science — a doctor, to be exact — and I felt liberated from the frightening uncertainty of the future. Now, that same fate that I willingly concluded almost seven years earlier is what keeps me from being what I really am. Seven years earlier, I never thought I would change my mind.

It is funny how the author of this Youngblood article and I were two girls who entered the field with opposite feelings — she was reluctant while I was optimistic — and came out with still contrasting but somehow exchanged views. But there is one thing that she and I can agree on — Pisay is truly life-changing.