Every mother in the whole wide world knows that being one entails a lot of love, sacrifices and patience. However, delving on its hardships is not a good idea especially if you can see the favorable results of it. Let me show and tell you some of my eldest (Janjan) child’s works which I took pride on.
One of her project in her 5th grade Painting Club was the subject “Three Trees” and her submitted project in Technology and Livelihood Education was the Four-Leaf Clover Thread Art. They comprised our house decoration, the painting hanging in our living room and the thread art in our bedroom.
Last year, in her 7th Grade, she was the News Editor in their school paper and one of her feature article was about their Intramurals .Here it goes:
Title: School Intrams: Why It Is Home in My Mind
The best thing about the Intramurals is that everyone is supposed to have fun.
Well, almost everyone.
This year, I forgot how to have fun… as usual.
I have always hated the Intrams. Since Grade school in fact. No, it’s not because this is the time when most kids get injured. It is because the event I’ve always wanted to join in has always been taken. So, I have to find other events… EVENTS THAT I’M NOT GOOD AT!
The event is Badminton. My father is a badminton player. He was good. Before he got injured, that is.
May be because of his frustration that he can no longer play like he used to, or for whatever reason only known (or unknown) to him, he wanted me to take up the sport. (a familiar story of parents passing-on to their kids their eternal hope). I, on the other hand, know that I am not the player he wants me to be. I never was and I knew that I never will be…
I still wanted to play that sport though. I felt I had no other option.
“Why not join Cheering?” everybody else would ask me.
To be honest, and young as I am, I’ve grown tired of Cheering. I’m kind of certain that I would feel even lonelier if I join that event. It’s just shouting behind the players and proving that that’s the only thing you can do. No offense but, Cheering makes me feel weak.
On the day when we were to decide which event to join in, I hesitantly announced to the whole class and to my adviser that I shall try-out for Badminton. At that moment, some of my classmates tried to discourage me, saying, “Mag-cheering ka nalang.” I’m not sure what transpired in me but at that moment, my initial reluctance turned to conviction. I stood firm in front of my seat and replied, “My decision is final.”
While returning home to spread the news, my father was very proud, and suggested that I should practice with him at once. He seems to have recovered from his injury really quickly when I agreed to practice with him. I had mixed feelings as I remember my classmates’ resistance to the whole idea. Some people just do not know how it is to be treated like a kid who has no potential.
At the supposed day of the try-outs, I was riding on a rather fluctuating series of luck: my opponent was absent; good luck for me as the coach said I was in the Badminton Team. Then again, I felt that winning by default is another way to prove I am weak.
The next day, my opponent showed up, and when she heard that I won by default, she demanded (yes, demanded) a try-out. I wanted to prove that I am not afraid so I agreed, win or lose.
The teammate who befriended me the previous day shifted allegiance and decided to hang out with the one who won instead. The moderator gave me two options: to join another event, or to be a substitute member of the Badminton Team. He expected me to feel good about myself. Would anyone in my situation feel good?
I sat on the bleachers for that whole day, afraid of what my detractors would say once they hear that I lost and was only a substitute.
During that thought, I heard a classmate of mine shout in joy, “Yey, talo si Jana” which caused a tear to stroll down to my cheek. I wanted to make my dad proud so I told the moderator that I prefer being a sub. He was like, “You decide” anyway. I had a terrible headache then and spent my day in the clinic.
The next day, I felt too insecure even to practice. I sat on the bleachers, fiddling my racquet like some kind of keyblade [for the fans of Kingdom Hearts]. An acquaintance of mine parked her bags beside mine. I asked her what her event is.
“Oh, mine? I don’t have an event,” she answered. Surprised and confused at the same time, I asked her what the wanderers (that’s what I call fellows without events) are supposed to do. “Wait for Ms. Casimiro in the ice station. She might have something in store for you.”
I immediately went to the ice station and chatted with a few chaps that I have been acquainted with the previous school years. When Ms. Casimiro arrived, I asked her for a task. “Go and get some cartolina from the maintenance office. When they ask what those papers are for, answer them, ‘Ms. Casimiro requests them.’”
I did as she told me and returned to the ice station to find her and some other friends already making art stuff in the podium. I joined them and Ms. Casimiro said to make some banners. And I did. I had fun doing all those things.
Sometimes, I practice. But most of the time, when I had nothing to do, I would hang out in the ice station. I would help them make pompoms for their team, guard the station when they all had to leave to eat, to buy something, to watch a game and others. I kept comparing myself to stories in which the character couldn’t decide where he really belongs but in the end, he knows where his home is. I felt comfortable in that little green tent. I feel safe and at home.
For an epilogue, let me just say here that to this day, my father is training me to become a good Badminton player. He says that in one year’s time, I will be able to play good. He says that I can make a difference. I, on the other hand, keep telling him that having fun does not come only from being good in a particular endeavor. In that little green tent, amidst the noise and all those activities during the Intrams, I found home.
To all mothers, make your everyday a Joyful Mother's day!