Graveyard of dreams

When I was a child, people told me I would reach places. A consistent honor student, a good intelligent kid that every Asian parent dreams of having.

I remember going home after my kindergarten graduation, clad in multiple dangling medals, parading them in front of my neighbors as I silently cheered at their amazed remarks. Life seemed perfect for this little academic weapon, but it was not.

“Libre lang mangarap!” Or so I thought.

The day I realized that dreaming wasn’t free for me was when I learned my parents were borrowing money from friends and relatives just to sustain my private school education during my elementary years. Despite being a scholar, the disparity between my classmates and me started to grow.

It started from small envious feelings of not getting up to date with their gadgets, to a sense of insecurity when they could easily pay their tuition while my mom regularly submitted a promissory letter.

During high school, when asked to join certain competitions, instead of asking myself if I could do it, I would check first if it would hurt my P50 daily allowance. I couldn’t afford to pay for the registration fee, and even sometimes opted not to buy my favorite kwek-kwek and ice scramble snack after class as I had to save it for my afternoon allowance during training.

The memory of attending my first journalism contest in high school with a bigger amount than a P50 bill in my wallet was still fresh. It was once again borrowed money, just so I could join a contest they told me could help me grow. I couldn’t fully appreciate my parents’ reassuring smile as I knew behind that were layers of hardship. Their assurances that I could join this and that always gave me a pang of pain in my heart. How could I curse this life and blame it for boxing my potential when they tried to still build the best version I could be?

When the pandemic struck, it was still engraved in my mind how I sent messages to my relatives to ask if they could sponsor me with a decent phone I could use for my online class.

Luckily, I was able to buy a good phone that lasted for two years. But the gadget divide was evident, as during reportings I would always ask my friends to share screen my presentation. I randomly cried when my device heated up and I could not do my worksheets properly. The feeling of frustration was still vivid when I could not even upload a two-gigabyte video assignment as I was only using mobile data because we could not afford to have an internet connection.

When college applications came, even with a competitive academic record, I could not apply to other private universities as processing the documents and application fees were a big expense for us.

This series of limitations constantly left me with lingering thoughts of what could have been. What kind of person would I be without financial constraints? Would I have studied in a better private school? Would I have avoided the shame and guilt of watching my parents work tirelessly just to send me to a school beyond their means?

Despite the battle between my mind and heart, I knew that they would answer “yes” in unison to these questions.

Probably, in a much-favored life, my parents would not have to borrow money from other people just so they could finance my expensive journey to success.

Maybe, I am living my Atenean dream right now and excelling as an AB Diplomacy and International Relations student. Or the odds might be I finally conquered my weakness in mathematics through enough private tutors, and now I am thriving in a science, technology, engineering, and math-related program.

Dreaming is free so maybe instead of an upcoming four-month exchange program in the United States as a Global Undergraduate (Global UGRAD), I am a full-time student at Johns Hopkins University or Harvard University. Who knows? The sky’s the limit for privileged dreamers.

Even though life is getting better now as a third-year pre-service teacher, there are days when I would visit the graveyard of my dreams and mourn for the lost potential and missed opportunities. I mourn not only for myself but also for those like me whose endless potential was boxed by the reality of our life’s socioeconomic placement. My Roman empire will always be how many great teachers, doctors, and lawyers we would have in this world if only dreaming was truly free.

Maybe in another life, instead of visiting the graveyard of dreams to mourn, I will blissfully bring sunflowers and remember my dead dreams with a smile. Maybe in that life, these buried dreams of mine were dead not because of missed chances to pursue, but at eternal peace as they were joyfully fulfilled.

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Jude Gabriel I. Español, 19, is an English education student at the Philippine Normal University. He will study at the University of the Ozarks in Clarksville, Arkansas in Spring 2025, as a Global UGRAD exchange program grantee.