How can I Refuse?
Monday morning. The atmosphere in our language class was full of anxiety. Teacher Anna will announce
to us the names of the students chosen by the cultural committee to represent the different literary
musical contests which will be held soon.
I idolize teacher Anna. She is a rare character. She teaches us literature and I am always mesmerized
during poetry reading season, like:
“Tell me not in mournful numbers
Life is but an empty dream
For a soul is dead that slumbers
And life is not what is seems”
“And now for our contestant. First, vocal solo classical – Marie Sta. Cruz.”
It was greeted with applause. Marie sings like a bird. “La la la la la la la…”
“Two, vocal solo pop – Amos Guzman.”
“Approved!” shouted the class. Amos really songs like showbiz.
“Di rin makatulog buhat ng iyong lokohin
Kung ako’y muling iibig, sana’y di maging katulad mo
Katulad mo na may pusong bato…”
“Three, binalaybay – Dennis Janeo.”
Correct! Dennis, our class lover boy.
“Lion kag tigre akon kaaway,
Makita ko lang ang nawon mo, Inday.”
“Fourth, talumpati – Ester Romano.”
Ester, a transferee from Cavite, speaks Filipino fluently.
“Ang bayang ito ay magtatagumpay sa kanyang sariling pagsisikap.”
“Fifth, oration – Jesse Gozon”
Perfect! Jesse. Our class politician.
“That this country cannot expect to move on if we are not in peace and united.”
“Sixth, extemporaneous both in English and Filipino – Malou Generoso.”
“What?” reacted Malou.
“Why, Malou? What is the matter?”
“Why me?”
“Why not you?”
“In two languages?”
“Why not? You are the school paper editor-in-chief. You could form and write ideas as quickly in both
languages. No more questions, let me proceed. The Filipino declamation – Stella Marris Gonzales.”
Yes! In school, nobody could shift from drama to comedy as fast as Stella could: “Taksil!” “Hoy, day, pang-
kikay lang yon.”
And then, I heard my name called. “Jenny Arturo for English declamation.”
Before anyone could react, I stood up and, “Ma’am, I can’t do it. Im in the arnis team. I’m at Chapter III in
our science ‘baby thesis. I’m…”
“Enough, Jenny. There’s no use aurguing here in front of everybody. You come to my office. Guys, that’s
all. The contestants will see me individually this afternoon. Now, Jenny, follow me.”
We went to her office. “Sit down. I don’t like your reaction.”
“But ma’am, I have arnis practice in the morning and in volleyball…”
“Again enough. Learn to manage your time. You know why I got you. I like your eyes, they are expressive.
Your body is pliant, you could articulate well, your acting very natural.”
“But the piece, the training. It’s too expensive.”
“I will write the piece; I will train you.”
“But ma’am...”
“Okay if you don’t accept, instead of exempting you in your speech practicum, I will make you memorize
the 37 of Thomas Gray’s Elegy in country churchyard, make a PowerPoint presentation to highlight
important stanzas, with animations and…”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s enough, I will declaim.”
The piece was written. Heavy drama. It is about family watching their matriarch slowly dying.
The training started, rigid, meticulous.
“I would want you to do the ending very well.”
The ending is an elegy which I shall do in behalf of all the grandchildren.
“These might be the words Grandma would have told us.”
“Do not stand ny grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.”
“Bravo! Now you are very ready for the contest.”
