Written by Hyacinth J. Tagupa
I’d very much like to say that I am currently a highly paid professional living in the lap of luxury, just so I can lend this piece an inspirational rags-to-riches feel. But, alas, I am simply a twentysomething writer, trying to make the most of my paycheck. This is not a rags-to-riches story, only a simple tribute to my beloved alma maters.
I grew up in public schools. I clearly remember my very first day in the first grade. We didn’t have nannies—our mothers themselves had to take us to our classrooms and then leave us there because they had laundry to finish. I was scared and I wanted to cry, especially when I glanced through the classroom’s wooden jalousies and saw my mother leave. But eventually I made friends and got the hang of it.