SOMETIMES the future changes quickly and completely, and we are left with only the choice of what to do next.
Towards the end of the 10th season of the hit US TV medical drama series Grey’s Anatomy, Dr. Cristina Yang had to make an important decision that would dictate how her life would turn out in the future—to stay in a job that had provided her stability or to leave it so she could challenge herself to grow as a person.
Much like Yang, portrayed as a go-getter cardiothoracic surgeon who had a zeal for success and a hunger to be the best, I, too, have entertained such question in my mind several times in the past—should I stay in the publication and finish my term or should I quit before my term ends?
I went through a rigorous screening process three years ago to be a staff member of the Varsitarian. Back then I had no idea of how it would affect me in the long run. But as my job started, I realized that working in the publication meant sacrificing a lot.
Time was my biggest foe when I became a staffer of the paper. I chased time to scour for sources that I needed to interview for my articles. I wanted to freeze time to be able to write articles and beat the deadline. And I had to trade my time with my family every semestral break and the majority of my summer vacation with more work for extra-editorial activities.
But now I have realized that my constant battle with time in the past three years has made me a tougher journalist. Bearing with the rough ride was all worth it if only for me to reach the finish line. Gladly, I never let the thought of giving up translate to a resignation letter.
I did not have bullets and rifles when I entered the Varsitarian. I started my journey in the publication with a slingshot and a couple of pebbles in my pocket. Through time, the publication had taught me how to aim well. Until one day, I was surprised to see myself shooting the bull’s-eye with higher accuracy.
The Varsitarian trained me to be a better reporter. It polished my craft to help me rise from the bottom of the press food chain to where I am right now and it scratched my surface to expose a gleaming newspaperman, who was once rusty.
And this transformation from a duckling to a swan would not be possible without the people who believed in me since day one.
To my ‘V’ family, thank you for making my three-year stay mean something, which I find hard to let go. Without all of you, my journey would have been a consequence of hurricanes and tsunamis. You held my every moment and calmed my raging seas.
To my writers—Mone and Jelina—thank you for all your contributions to the Features section. We may not have towered above the rest, but your efforts and feats surpassed my expectations. I am so lucky to have led the two of you and see you grow over the past year. Your growth and constant pursuit to improve yourselves made my work as your editor a lot easier. Continue to inspire others in your chosen paths in the same way that you have inspired me.
To the triune titans of the Varsitarian—Sir Lito, Sir Ipe and Sir Ian—thank you for entrusting me with such a responsibility. I may have had lapses during my first two years in the publication, but you still believed that to lead the Features section was within the range of my caliber.
I feel a lot like Yang who had left Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital as I step out of the office, which practically became my second home for three years. Like her, leaving the institution, which helped my bud blossom, cuts deep and will leave an indelible scar. And the scar that will form in the future shall remind me not of how hard it was for me to leave the ‘V,’ but of the fundamentals of how to become an excellent journalist.
I have done my job. I have explored myself in every spectrum, and now I need to focus my parfocal lenses to the greater opportunities that await me from this day forth.
