I am still becoming

Education is often described as a finish line, a diploma, a title, a career. But for me, it has never felt like a destination.

It has always been a journey of becoming shaped by perseverance, sustained by opportunity, and defined by quiet, hard-earned victories.

I grew up in a home where P5 could determine whether I could buy a snack at school. On some days, if there was no extra money, I would simply walk home for lunch. My childhood was simple, sometimes difficult, but it was never empty.

I played “patintero” with neighbors until sunset. I dug in the garden and imagined adventures in ordinary spaces. I carried water, swept the yard, and learned early that responsibility was not something you waited for. It was something you stepped into.

Back then, I did not know I was building resilience. I only knew that life required effort.

When my father passed away while I was in the fifth grade, effort became survival. My mother became our anchor. I watched her carry burdens quietly, with a strength that did not need applause. From her, I learned that perseverance, “paningkamot,” is not dramatic. It is steady. It is waking up each day and choosing to continue.

High school meant long walks to class and sometimes hitching rides when I was lucky. College meant stretching limited allowances and silently calculating expenses before spending even a small amount. There were days I questioned whether I could finish. But each time doubt whispered, I reminded myself why I started.

Perseverance became more than a value. It became a companion.

Preparing for the Licensure Examination for Professional Teachers, or LET, tested that companion. I reviewed late into the night, balancing responsibilities and wrestling with fear. There were moments when exhaustion felt heavier than hope. But I learned to divide overwhelming goals into manageable steps. I focused on one chapter, one practice test, one day at a time. I celebrated small victories, understanding a difficult concept, improving a score, finishing a long study session. Progress was slow, but it was real.

Along the way, I encountered something just as powerful as perseverance: opportunity.

Scholarships and the quiet support of relatives opened doors I could not have pushed alone. I realized that opportunities are rarely permanent. They do not wait indefinitely. They require courage, the willingness to step forward even when you are unsure of the outcome. I learned that growth often depends on our readiness to act when a door opens, however slightly.

Success, when it came, did not arrive all at once. It unfolded gradually through passing the Licensure Examination for Social Workers, securing a government position, completing my master’s degree in social work, and eventually becoming a full-time instructor.

These were milestones I once only imagined. Yet each achievement brought new responsibilities, new doubts, and new lessons.

I used to think success would feel like certainty. Instead, it felt like growth, sometimes uncomfortable, often humbling. I discovered that managing challenges is itself a form of achievement. That asking for guidance is strength. That learning never truly stops.

Purpose, I found, does not always appear after we make it. Often, it reveals itself in the process, in serving others, in choosing integrity over ease, in continuing despite uncertainty. Becoming allows space for humility. It teaches us that progress is rarely linear and that value lies not in speed but in persistence.

Even now, as a professional, I am still becoming. I am still learning, still adjusting, still striving to improve. Setbacks still happen. Doubts still visit. But I no longer see them as signs of failure. I see them as invitations to grow.

Education gave me knowledge, but the journey gave me perspective. It taught me that P5 can teach gratitude, that loss can teach strength, and that perseverance can quietly shape a life.

Success is not an endpoint. It is a practice, a daily commitment to show up with effort, integrity, and courage.

I am not finished. I am still becoming.

—————-

Domingo A. Salubre Jr., 28, is a registered social worker, licensed professional teacher, and full-time instructor. He recently completed his master’s degree in social work and continues to grow professionally while inspiring others to pursue their goals despite challenges.