To the Parents of Aspiring-to-be-UP-students

(DISCLAIMER: I hope you read this before everything else below. These are unsolicited words and thoughts that are the result of spending most of my today with you, waiting for our relatives'/friends' names to be called as indication that their Test Permits are ready. I'm not writing this to foster anything negative. Everything is matter-of-factly.)

Today, you've experienced the least bit of system that the University of the Philippines have. Today, you've caught a glimpse of what your daughters, sons, friends' children, and relatives are likely to experience should they pass the UPCAT. And today, you've inadvertently complained about what you've seen.

I was a part of that system for four years, albeit the difference in terms of geographical location. And may I just say that what you've had today is completely normal, at least in UP standards.

UP's system is composed of lines, lots and lots of it. Long, short, irate, cool--everything is in line.

I had those lines. I had that every start of my semesters, so I could enroll. I had the longer ones the times when I did not get slots or schedules. I had that when I needed semestral stickers for my ID. And until after I graduated, I had lines to fall in for my clearance.

UP is also a bit off on the technological side. (This goes especially to the mother who complained about having to wait anew for the Test Permit.) They don't exactly have lots of computers in their offices. Thus, they can't just get your child's name and have the Permit printed right before your very eyes.

When I was in school, there were times when LCD projectors would break down. Or when the electricity would be cut and we had to wait for it to come back lest we want to have class in the dark. Worse, there were times when computers and equipments needed for the registration system would simply bog down.

Another thing, UP is not really known to maintain high-class comfort rooms. You might have seen other universities have toilets that flushes well and with disinfectants. That is not a normal scene in UP. You're even lucky there's water in the sink. And that there's a sink.

Lastly, the University of the Philippines consists of a myriad of cultured--and occasionally out-of-cultured, people. You are shocked, evidently. Of students who wear jogging pants (with the letters S, E, X, and Y in its rear) and walk the streets as if they're in a simple neighborhood. Of people who have tattoos and who smoke. Of the church uncrowded. Of the less-than-elite eating areas (and isaw stalls).

Those are parts of life the UP way.

If, by the goodness of circumstances, your child passes the UPCAT, he/she would be part of that. Please, be prepared.For late-night affairs with computers (for papers to be submitted the following day). For stories of professors not coming to class for a month (or coming without a lesson to give out). For the day your child would go home saying he/she watched the Oblation Run (yeah, many parents get the shock of their lives in that particular instance). For the rallies/demonstrations, which you may see on television, that are happening on UP's grounds (look closely at that TV screen, your child's fist might be in the air). And for the many changes that would happen to your children.

My own parents had their share of shock. And irritation. And anger. And sense of pointlessness. At least, know what you're in for.

Despite all of that though, one thing every single person who's ever been part of that system can assure you is the fact that after everything, your child is four years more mature. Like nowhere, nothing, no one else. Your children would be open-minded, would be aware, and would know how to deal with the world. They would learn the way through life with hardships, then appreciate one without.

Hopefully, you see that through. Hopefully, you live that through.