(Valedictorian Speech)

Honorable guests, Chairman Amelia, President Henry, Dean

Victor and Dean Lee, Faculty, Friends, family, guests, and
especially, the graduates, the class of 2022. — A pleasant
morning to all of you.

Nine years ago, I have been struggling with my studies, I wasn’t

even able to speak the English language fluently. I am struggling
so much with financial aspects to pursue my education. But
through my dedication and passion to have a better future, I think
of a way to pursue and achieve it. I used to work as a dumpster
diver while studying. I went to work early in the morning and after
my classes.
With the help of Mr. Branson’s scholarship, I was able to focus
upon my studies. I developed and enrich my skills, abilities and
talents in a different subject areas. I became a better person and
an engaging student.
Everyone, I worked with in the Bar Operations Commission
Academics Committee and the Institute of International Legal
Studies, and all my professors. I would not be here today if not
for you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

I was requested to keep this speech short, so to make this easier

for everyone, I decided to forego writing a fancy speech and to
stick with what I already know, which is law school.

While everyone’s law school experience is unique, I believe

there’s at least one thing we all have in common: fear. If there’s
anyone here who never felt even the slightest bit nervous or
anxious or afraid during their stay in the College, then I stand
corrected, and I salute you. For everyone else though, I’m sure
we all know what it feels like to be afraid.

Afraid of a professor, of recitation, of an exam when it’s all just

too much. Afraid of even getting out of bed in the morning
because doing so means facing yet another day as a UP Law
student. I’ve been there, we’ve all been there. We hear a lot
about the grand manner of Law, but sometimes it feels like much
of the grand manner is really just fear. From the moment we
attended mock recitation before our freshman year and prayed
we wouldn’t be called, till now, sitting here today, with the threat
of November looming before us, we’ve constantly been taught to
be afraid.

As a female student in this college, I’ve had to face an additional

set of fears. The fear of being seen as overly competitive, overly
ambitious, overly intense. The fear of being judged for my
appearance, rather than for my work. The fear of having my
accomplishments disparaged as products of charm, or any
means other than actual blood and sweat and tears. For the
most part, I and other women in this college have learned to rise
above these fears. But they are real.

The College of Law teaches us fear, yes. But at the same time, it
also teaches us how to overcome these fears, and if we can’t
overcome them, to pretend they don’t exist and to keep going
anyway. We learn to recite without our palms sweating. We stop
breaking into a cold sweat every time the terror professor walks
into the classroom. We realize that one failed Criminal Law II
midterm is not the end of everything, and that a terrible recit will
one day be a funny story.

In sum, we’ve all overcome fear in one form or another, one way
or another, during our stay university. Today, we graduate and
finally leave those fears behind. However, we leave these
university halls only to face the so-called real world. And what
kind of world awaits the Law graduates of 2032?

At times it feels as though we are graduating from one set of

fears only to face even greater ones. There is much to fear in the
Philippines today, from the rampant killings to the deliberate and
calculated consolidation of power in the executive branch of
government and its flagrant abuse of this power, in which the
other branches of government are complicit. The current
administration thrives on fear – creating it, perpetuating it, using
it to immobilize those who dare to speak out. From the attacks of
internet trolls to barely disguised political persecution, this
administration has mastered the art of using fear to entrench
itself in power and to silence dissent.

In this environment of fear, the rule of law has been perverted to

mean nothing more than mindless acquiescence to the injustices
perpetrated by the administration, all under the cover of so-called
legality. Public office is treated like a commodity to be awarded
to the highest bidder, and forfeited at the whim of the executive.
Arrests are made on trumped-up charges or no charges at all.
People are killed by the very authorities tasked to protect them.
All this is done in the name of protecting the rule of law and
bringing peace and order to the country.

In his address to the newest members of the Philippine Bar a few

weeks ago, Justice Lucas Bersamin defined the rule of law as
“the recognition that ours is a government of laws, and not of
men, and the abiding belief in law.” I agree with this definition
wholeheartedly. However, Justice Bersamin then went on to say
that the principal ingredient of the rule of law is respect for the
institution of the courts and of the duly constituted authorities. On
this point, I must respectfully disagree.
Justice Aharon Barak of the Supreme Court of Israel wrote in the
Harvard Law Review that “the substantive rule of law is the rule
of proper law, which balances the needs of society and the
individual. This is the rule of law that strikes a balance between
society’s need for political independence, social equality,
economic development, and internal order on the one hand, and
the needs of the individual, his personal liberty, and his human
dignity on the other.”

When the institutions of democracy become agents of fear rather

than protectors of each individual’s personal liberty and human
dignity, such institutions lose the right to demand the people’s
respect. The rule of law does not demand blind deference to
institutions; rather, as Justice Barak wrote, it guarantees
fundamental values of morality, justice, and human rights, with a
proper balance between these and the other needs of society.
Fear of the institutions of government has no place in a society
governed by the rule of law. The duty to respect the rule of law is
the burden not only of the governed, but even more so of those
who govern. Its principal ingredient is not the people’s
unconditional respect for government, but government’s respect
for the rights under law of each person it is sworn to protect.

The true rule of law should be the goal of every democracy, yet it
is sorely lacking in the country today. This is the real world we
enter as graduates of this university. What then is our duty, and
how do we serve the rule of law when those in power are
determined to destroy it, and to silence every dissenting voice?

There is no one answer to that question. We leave the College to

pursue our own dreams and ambitions, and to carve out our
individual paths as future lawyers. As we go our separate ways,
perhaps we can all take to heart Chancellor Michael Tan’s words
at yesterday’s University Graduation – that we must always do
our best to curb anger and unkindness.
Above all else, we all have in common the duty to remember
what university’s hall taught us about fear, and more importantly,
how to overcome it.

The College taught us that in the face of our fears, we are

capable of much more than we think. Today, more than the
cases and the codals and the commentaries, it is this lesson we
need to take away from our stay in the College.

We need to remember that the rule of law is more than mere

adherence to the rules we’ve memorized, and when faced with a
choice, we must choose to uphold that which protects the rights
and freedoms of each individual, and guarantees fundamental
values of morality, justice, and human rights. We must choose to
uphold the true rule of law, even when those in power use fear to
attempt to silence us. The grand manner of this university
requires nothing less.

To the University’s Class of 2032, congratulations!

Maraming salamat sa inyong pakikinig!