I have recently delivered a speech to the graduating elementary students in my alma mater. This is the sort of thing that comes with aging—along with filing papers in many government agencies, becoming a godfather of so many kids, and finally accepting that I won’t ever get abducted by aliens in my lifetime. I don’t have the most fantastic memories of elementary and high school and really didn’t feel like I have anything to share to elementary kids (unless you count anger, ennui, disillusionment, discouragement, raaaaage, and all sorts of addictions), but what the hellellellel.
I’ve decided early on to speak in the vernacular—truly no one will ever be impressed with deep english words embedded in metaphors enmeshed in similes within complex run-on sentences. Honestly I wouldn’t think anyone would care either way what with the terrible heat and the desire of all students to just get their diplomas and get the hell out of there and then lunch at Alabang Town Center or something. So I prepared my speech and practiced a few times and discovered that my whole speech could be delivered in no more than… 8 minutes! Ahahahaha. I’ve tried to cut more fat with the five-minute goal and was able to cut a couple more minutes.
While walking along the campus on my way to the auditorium I’ve seen this computer-printed message tacked on one of the school billboards:
Lollipop moments—those moments when things don’t turn out the way you expected them to. What is your lollipop moment?
For all my lecherousness I’m sure mas bastos pa sakin ang mga high school students, so I’m not sure why anyone thinks it’s a good idea to post that.
The basic message of my speech to elementary kids: Study hard, don’t waste time, and always obey your parents—emphasizing that these are very basic and almost clichéd, but for their very fundamental-ness we take them for granted. Having made this obligation-service I’ve dedicated a couple of paragraphs to those students without any awards—I’ve perused the programme earlier and noted that while some students have pages and pages worth of awards and medals, most don’t even have a Best Dressed award. Not that they need consoling—I’m sure most of them don’t give a fuck and rightfully so—but just to thwart a few seconds of inggit, and mostly for the parents who sort of care, I’ve narrated this ultra-short anecdote: I was riding the jeep. One elementary kid said to another: Ang talino ni Susan, 100 sa halos lahat ng exam! Siguradong sya ang magiging pinakamayaman sa atin!
All together now: AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!