I survived another day.

It was a typical Monday afternoon – hot, humid, and heavily tiring. My classes in law school will start by 5:00pm, and I
am still waiting for a ride along the noisy sidewalks of Lawton at 4:45pm. Jeepneys pass by with men standing by the door,
holding on for a ride as all seats have already been occupied. Vans are likewise full. Buses are chased by commuters desperate
for a ride to their homes. I am going to be late yet again for class, and I was there, standing, smoke on the background, vehicles in
the front, oil on my face, haplessly waiting for a ride to school.

Throughout the day, I have used up my energy in teaching, drawing childish illustrations in the whiteboard to visualize Taxation,
screaming every word out just to maintain my students’ attention. I tried teaching because it was a passion, and also because of
my thoughts that teaching is convenient for a law student like me. Of course, I was wrong. Juggling a full load in a four-year law
school track alongside a full-time teaching load is a task I severely underestimated.

Days start early. Classes can be scheduled as early as 7:00am, and I have to at least look a little decent before going to class. I
need a quick breakfast meal and a cup of coffee, iced or otherwise, to bring me to my senses. I cannot go to class air-headed
although it was inevitable sometimes. I once went to a class without any sleep, and taught an entire hour with blurry vision. I felt
like I was at the brink of collapsing. After faculty meetings to attend, a few student consultations, a short chat with my co-
professors, and after checking papers and recording scores, I hurriedly tidy my things up in the hopes that I can catch a ride to
UST before I finally become late.

Booking a Grab is a mess, not to mention that it is expensive. Before the days of Angkas, hitching on a jeepney exit and having
my butt half-seated in a UV Express have been my mode of transportation. I almost always arrive at the classroom late, chasing
my breath, sweat dripping from both sides of my temple while saying my apologies to my professor as I approach my empty seat
in the middle of his discussion. Lucky if the professor is late.

As the professor erases the “absent” mark on my class card and replace it with “late”, my next prayer is that I won’t be called for
recitation. I have not read a single case, and I am simultaneously chasing the case syllabus as they get recited one-by-one. There
are countless times where I bluffed my way through recitations – many ended up in disappointing recitation grades and episodes
of humiliation. Dean Aligada called me a chicken nest and told me that he will send me back to Grade 3 because of my grammar.
Atty. Villasis made a litany against lazy students when I was not able to recite Rules 16 and 17 correctly. Dean Paguirigan would
just smile with all pleasantness when she has the hint that I was not able to completely read her lengthy syllabus for recitation.
Atty. Seña would crucify me for bluffing during recitation while Prosec. Garcia would ensure that all of our class cards are bound
for fire. Dean Divina would give me a confused look when I score low (for his standards) in his quiz.

Finally, the professor calls the class off, and as I drag my feet along the imposing corridors of law school, I am just glad that this
day is over.

I frankly do not have time to study at home. By the time I arrive at my rented unit at 9:45pm, I am already done for the day,
exhausted and weak, but at least, beaming with optimism that I was able to get through. I’ll try to flip a few pages; I’ll make
myself a hot cup of coffee, but the fatigue just makes me drowsy, and I tap out to my bed. Most of the time, I prioritize browsing
what I will teach for the next day. I can’t come to class unprepared, and I owed it to my class to have knowledge of what I teach.
Never mind my trashed recitations, I’m sure my classmates will understand and won’t judge me. In Filipino, “bawi na lang sa
exams.”

I survived another day, and that went on for four years.

Graduation day came, and objectively speaking, I never thought that day would come. The next target would, of course, be the
Bar Exams.

“Edi magreresign ka sa work?”

When I answered “no,” people were considering it as a suicide mission. How can I review for the Bar while working? I worked
from Monday to Friday, eight hours a day, with work sometimes spilling over the weekends when I have to substitute for an
absent co-faculty or co-reviewer. During November, the Bar month, my Monday classes would ask why I have Salonpas on my
aching hands — fresh from Sunday’s exam.

“Paano ‘yung Bar?” they ask.

“Bahala na.” In my defeatist-slash-careless attitude, I tried to balance both Bar review (as the student) and CPA review (as the
teacher). The task was daunting. They say that in order to hurdle the Bar, we must do at least two readings of our references, but I
did not finish even my first. I felt like I went to the Bar ill-equipped, but it was a battle in which I should not back out.

32 hours of essay writing. 300+ essays. 800 points. Four Sundays of November. All four years of law school went down to this.
After the last Sunday of the Bar, I sighed. This is all done. This is now out of my control.

And yes, I survived another day.

Law school is never easy. Every day is a struggle. I was academically confident for most of my time during my prelaw, but I
rarely had that confidence as a law student, and even as a law graduate. Law school makes everyone rethink their intellectual
capacity, and it made me doubt myself.

The burden doubles as a working law student. I had been asked many times if I plan to quit from work, perhaps on my last year in
law school when review subjects come. My templated reply is: “If I quit work, I may have plenty of time to study, but I’ll be
studying hungry and homeless.” For many working students like me, we do not meaninglessly work. Who wants less than six
hours of sleep daily? Who wants to go to class unprepared? Who wants those shameful recitations? Who wants to juggle and
attempt to balance double lives? For many working students like me, it was a matter of survival, it was a matter of getting
through everyday. At the risk of sounding pathetic, getting your pay became a matter of having food to eat and having a place to
stay. From a place of privilege, this may not be apparent, but the sacrifice of hours of sleep and the sacrifice of sanity offered by
precious but missed social interactions are all for the continuance of what’s present, and for the achievement of our planned
future -- of our dreams. I skipped vacations. I said pass on reunions. I missed parties. In fact, in spite of having two simultaneous
employers, I had never joined a company outing since law school started, and that has been the life that I have been slowly
accustomed to.

It wasn’t all stable. Overtime work sometimes have to be rendered and I had to miss a few classes. Teaching involves a huge deal
of take-home work – crafting exams, checking papers, recording outputs, among others. Instead of reading my own lessons for
my own grades, I read my students’ output for their grades. I am not ranting that the profession is such an inconvenience, for it is
worthwhile, but I am stating that it is definitely not easy.

I flunked the scholarship that sustained me; I received a 29/100 on my Finals Exam in Criminal Law; I rushed 50 handwritten
case digests in one night, disabling my hands from properly writing for the exams that came thereafter, I came in two hours late
in an exam just so I can study a bit more – all this on top of failing relationships, failing health, and all other personal troubles
and circumstances. People ask me how I manage and balance everything – the thing is they are not managed and balanced.
Everything is rushed. Everything is chaotic. Everything was just about getting through.

It was not easy, but every single day, I thank myself for having survived another day. I thank myself for keeping myself together
for four years.

Things were not all stress and failures. There were moments of victory. I met some of the most wonderful people in law school. I
became a student of inspiring professors, some of whom I will admire for the rest of my life. Surprisingly, I was a little active in
extracurricular activities (thanks, UST Law Debate family!) and in an unexpected stroke of blessing, I was able to obtain another
scholarship in the middle of my law school stint (thanks, FLP family!) and discount on my Bar review (thanks, VLC!) Choosing
supportive employers is likewise key, and I’m thankful to have mentors in my colleagues in Letran and ReSA. I can now likewise
contribute to the defrayal of our family expenses and I’m now partly paying the monthly amortization of our family home.

I always say to my students who are struggling, it is when things become tough when it becomes more worth it in the end. It is
when the tears have already dried that it feels good. It is when the rain has stopped that the heat of the sun becomes nourishing.
Difficulty is not tantamount to impossibility, nor does it cause struggles to last until infinity. The struggle ends. The goal is
possible. The way up may not be the gentle slope that we have imagined it to be; it is a steep uphill climb along rugged terrain.
But when we reach the peak, the view is breathtaking.

I had every opportunity to quit. I am already licensed, and I can just continue practicing my former profession. When I flunked
my exams, I could have already thrown the towel. When I lost my scholarship, I could have saved my money instead of spending
it for tuition fees. There will always be reasons for us to quit. There are many exit doors, and they are just waiting for us to step
out. Still, in spite of all of the hardships, I remained, I clung to that hope of finishing this degree. The journey is not smooth nor is
it pretty, but definitely, the journey is meaningful.

This is for all of us who struggle to survive every day. This is for the people who continue to believe that there’s a good
tomorrow in the sorrows of today. This is for all working students who take the burden of living double lives. This is for those
who have less but strive for more. We turn our struggles into success. We make the hurdles our opportunities. We transform our
fears into power.

Today, in this another Wednesday afternoon, after thousands of students taught, after 198 units of teaching, after 169 units of law
school, after 8 Bar subjects, after 4 Sundays of the Bar after 4.5 years, we’re here, and we survived another day.

[Sorry sa entry sa essay writing contest.]

Atty. KENNETH L. MANUEL, CPA

2015-087654
University of Santo Tomas – Faculty of Civil Law
Juris Doctor
Cum Laude 🥉
Top 6, 2019 Bar Examinations ✨
THANK YOU TO EVERYONE I AM SO OVERWHELMEEEEED!!!! 💛💙