Write or Wrong

Photo Credit:  http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/33100000/-xD-things-that-will-make-you-laugh-33116767-500-500.jpg

My love for writing was purely accidental.  I did not know that I had a knack for it until I inadvertently embarrassed myself (without the knowledge of everyone) by joining a contest in writing while having no idea what it was all about. 

I was a freshman year in a high school that was not in my hometown, therefore, I was the “unfamiliar” kid; the one who did not have a lot of friends and the one who was mostly quiet and keeps to himself.  I never made waves academically, in fact, I barely made a splash on the first grading period.  My classmates did not consider me as a threat to their academic existence. 

Fun fact: high school nerds in the Philippines were vicious and cunning.  And high school nerds were considered the cool kids back then (in addition, of course, to the dance troupe).  I was neither.  I just looked like a nerd but I was not really one because I sucked at Math.  And I still do. 

I remember that I was at the bottom of the totem pole because I scored the lowest at the very first Science exam.  The tragic thing about that exam was that I had to announce my grade at the top of my lungs so that the teacher could mark it on her grading sheet.  I think I got a 2 out of twenty in a quiz that could have been easily aced by anybody in the star section.  I was on the verge of tears when I said “two!” and everyone looked at my direction in disbelief; but I held my head high holding back the tears.  That was not a score for someone who belonged to a group that was supposedly the cream of the crop.  I was the crop part, more like crap at that point.  Most got 15 points or higher.  I got two.  I think I may have been slightly branded as the “not-so-smart one” after that Science fiasco. 

Everyone knew that I was good at drawing because the back of my notebook was filled with scribbles and doodles of different kinds.  I was good at free-hand but never at copying something and making it my own.  I have to put my own spin into it. 

One day, there was a memo that was passed out in our school announcing a Science Fair Contest.  I think it was about Science because you already know how I love that subject, Physics especially (insert sarcasm here).   This fair had Poster-Making, Essay Writing, Quiz bee contests in it.  So, it was common knowledge that I would be joining the Poster-Making Contest since I was good at drawings and very adept with my crayons.  And I said I would.  I had other classmates who were also good at drawing that said that they would join as well.  According to the memo, there would be a meeting the following afternoon about the contest.  And I was dead-set in attending that meeting. 

That day came.  I was prepared for it.  I brought pen and paper to jot down notes of what will transpire during this “orientation” process so I will come prepared once the contest took place. 

When I showed up for the supposed meeting, I did not expect what I saw.  It. Was. Not. A. Meeting.  My classmates who were supposed to join the poster making contest were all armed and dangerous with their art supplies- poster board, water colors, rulers, pencils, Sharpies and the works.  I only had a pen and paper. 

So one of my classmates asked me: “Akala ko ba sasali ka sa poster making contest?” (I thought you were joining the poster-making contest?)

To which I replied: “I changed my mind, I’ll join the Essay Writing contest”, in a tone so flat you would think you could drive your car through it like the highway.  Then I have this face of a nonchalant-I-couldn’t- care- less-reaction wherein you could assume that I was fully committed to winning the prize…for essay writing.  But at the back of my mind, I was kicking my head with both my feet in all directions for being so stupid by not adding one and one together.  (The not-so-smart one). Why the heck would the organizers of the contest have a meeting if they already had a memo announcing the details of the contest?  Duh. 

Well I would like to think of it as if I did not pay attention to the particulars as much as I should have.  In defense to me, they did not specify to bring art supplies for the poster making contest.  So I did not bring any.  I was just following some vague instructions. 

I actually considered of going to the school bookstore and buy myself some art materials but I hesitated because: one, I did not have enough money (as my competitors had their stack of 340 Crayolas under their arms) and two, I did not want to look stupid for not understanding the memo.  So I committed to the easiest way out: join the essay writing contest and try to get away with it since nobody knew me anyway.  I chose the Filipino category since I discerned that I would not embarrass myself writing in my own language.  Plus, my other option was Quiz Bee, which was like me putting myself in a torture chamber for live-viewing. 

Most of the contestant were either Juniors and Seniors.  I tried to look as small as I could so nobody would notice me, which worked very well since no one really talked to me prior to the contest.  Once we were settled, the proctor gave us instructions about the contest and introduced the topic for the essay- which was the tried and tested theme about Saving the Environment- which you could go as vague as as possible, then bullshit your way to win the prize. 

Well I did not win the prize.  And I knew that already.  I was only there to save my face from embarrassment and just committed to finishing my unintended endeavor of joining the stupid contest.  But the next day in class, our Filipino teacher, who was one of the judges, asked a question when she started the lesson.  Instead of the usual greeting of “Good morning”, she asked, in Tagalog, “Who among you is Macalinao?”

My mind went, “Oh shit. What stupid thing did I do this time?” I literally thought that I would get into trouble for joining the essay competition instead of the poster-making one.  Everybody’s gaze went to my direction and I sheepishly raised my hand. 

She just went on to say, “I liked you essay.  You had a very good introduction…” And she did not say anything after that.  I did not know how to respond because it was totally unexpected.  I could not even remember what I wrote because I wanted the whole hour to end immediately.  I may have shocked my classmates a bit because it was not very common for her to give out a compliment.

I dismissed this whole event in my life as purely accidental and it would eventually pass since drawing was still my first love.  But my classmates started to take note of my presence after that short compliment from my teacher.

After that, certain events in my life unfolded eventually that would prove that I -being stupid at not bringing art supplies to a poster making contest- was bound to experience something unexpected but at the same time, was meant to happen. 

Three years later, when I was in Junior High, (I had transferred to another school during this time) our English teacher blindly assigned us to join a Journalism contest which was to take place in maybe a week or two.  No training, no orientation, no whatsoever.  Just show up and write.  And hopefully win. 

I remember her asking me…. no, telling me, “Do you want to do Sports Writing? In Filipino? Okay, I’ll put you down.  You can also do Feature Writing in English because Pedro already said Yes to the Filipino Feature category.” The only response I gave to her was a blink.  She did not even pause to have me give her an appropriate answer.  Sports Writing then.  Sports.  Me, the least Sporty type of the entire student body, whose only participation in the intramurals was to tally the score of a volleyball game, join a contest in Sports Writing.  Talk about Irony. 

But that was not the most ironic thing that happened about this story.  I actually won 1^st place in the Division Contest for Sports writing, then moved on the regional contest, which I won 8^th place, which would qualify me to compete for the national level.  (We did not join the national contest even though we were eligible because the school did not want to send us to Manila to compete- long story but that was the gist).  I did also win the Feature Writing in English but placed second in the Division meet- which apparently had some discussions who was the eventual winner.  I was happy to place second to a very talented first placer who I actually admired. 

I was very certain that my knack for writing pulled me through that journalism contest and not my love for anything that involved teams and bouncing balls.  Come on, let’s not humor ourselves that I could play any game in sports.  If I were a Spice Girl, I am very far from being Mel C.  I would probably be the Ginger from not following instructions or Posh, not for being fashionable but for being oblivious from anything that related to being a handyman.  Case in point, when I played Legos, I did not follow the manual to build a spacecraft, I built my own Death Star.  If I buy anything from IKEA, either it will remain in the box, or the assembly of a simple side table will involve half a day of cursing, injuring myself, and constructing a table that won’t even stand up straight. 

In college, I probably wrote most of the descriptions of my batchmates on their year book articles, which was a very popular trend in college ‘90s.  It was like making a eulogy for your classmates but the only difference were that they were still alive and I was not wearing black.  Some people asked me to write about them even though we were not even that close, so I had to make up vague accounts of their personal lives just to look presentable in immortalizing them in the year book.  Nothing personal, but you cannot be best friends with everyone.  You should really have a talent for spin-doctoring to pull out something like that and still made them look great.  But in my defense, I really liked what I wrote because I did not lie, I just portrayed them to the public the way I actually knew them. 

I am not saying that I am so wonderful at this either.  I am so much far from the people I idolize.  And the people I idolize (Hello, David Sedarirs!) are not the only ones who are in publication but there are so many friends I know who are all talented in the written word.  I always encourage them to write because I love seeing what they put out in the world, which then inspires me more to be very good at this thing I am doing.  Sometimes, I can be hard on myself for being so critical with my own output and for not having enough balls to fling myself into the wild like others do. 

Maybe one day, I will write something worthy of a publication.  Hey, if Snooki can write a memoir, I could as well.  All I need are balls to venture into the world, put on my Sporty Spice shoes and knock the socks off everyone.  But first, I think I need to pay more attention to instructions, so I will not wander off into the wrong competition. 

June 14, 2020