MY “box” started to take shape when I was in prenursery. I was awarded two gold certificates at the end of the year—one for academics and the other for art. When I entered nursery school, I also finished first in our class. Although there were occasional fluctuations in efforts and results, I somehow finished valedictorian for both my primary and secondary years in school.
I was very hard on myself because I was determined to make my parents proud. My parents did not come to school often, but whenever there was an awarding or we had an important role in a program, they would. I remember how I so aimed to always get 100 in class, that getting even a 95 felt wrong. I formed quite a foolproof study process in Grade 3 and managed to perfect it in Grade 5.
Alongside my academic life, I have always been a people person. I loved spending time with friends in school. I loved tutoring my friends who had a hard time in certain subjects. I joined all the school activities time permitted and became exposed to so many inspiring students and teachers from upper-grade levels.
With this box of mine being intact, I was totally unprepared to fall into a hole so unexpected in my college years. My high-school relationships of 4 years suddenly ended. I had my first official romantic relationship for only a few months, and that didn’t end well. My grades for my first two years of college were not up to par. Worst, I felt none of my friends understood my pain.
This became a time when I thought my fate was to be alone. So, I taught myself to love solitude. This was very difficult for me since I was such a social person. I remember my attempt to watch a movie by myself. It felt so weird. I also turned to writing. My escape was to drive to a French café in Shangri-La Plaza alone for a few hours just writing. After a while, I actually enjoyed solitude and the silence it gave me to reflect.
More than this, I think Philosophy saved me. The study taught me Aristotle’s Theory of the Golden Mean. It provided me the rationale that people have to undergo extremes to strike that center. I realized the box that I tried to protect for so long. I was lucky to have English teachers—Clinton Palanca, Jon Bulaong, Rica Bolipata-Santos and Fr. Nemy Que—who discussed readings that helped me explore my person within.
By my junior year, I decided to pursue my academics again. A friend, Eirene, provided me the opportunity to help as the finance and marketing head for the freshman orientation seminar. With the guidance of another friend, Jerome, this led to me becoming the junior marketing president in my last year of college. More than this, I was able to bond with a group of friends that shared my values, as well as my angsts. I’m lucky to still have them as my trusted confidantes long after college.
When I finished college, I remember being grateful for that extreme change and the uncertainty that I went through. I believe my college years gave me the gift of freedom from that box, that gift of courage to face what is “not me” and the gift of finding my “Mean.”
How does the Aristotelian Mean relate to my life as a parent?
We all want to prepare our kids to strive for the best that they can in life. As they grow up, I would like to prepare my kids to face the uncertainty of being out of their comfort zone. I hope to prepare them to feel that excitement in the chaos, rather than fearing the change far earlier than I did.
My daughter was born loving art. She loves to perform. She was quite outspoken even in kindergarten. The challenge was that she was not very good in math and in following rules. This was doubly difficult because she was studying in a highly academic traditional school. I remember her teacher in Kinder 1 telling me that when a math problem came up, she would just look at the ceiling and be clueless on what to do.
I was worried, but also welcomed this good opportunity for a “growth” moment. I asked parents of honor students in school where they sent their kids for math. I was extremely lucky to have been referred to a school whose owner, Mrs. Yao, gave much time and dedication to my daughter. Today, my daughter joins out-of-school math contests. She didn’t start out as a math genius but she was also never told that she couldn’t be if she wanted to be one.
I believe my own experiences with the Aristotelian Mean have allowed me to delineate my past and my kids’ present. I do not bear shame when teachers point out my child’s mistake. I also don’t make an issue of how I was a consistent honor student in these circumstances. I see the moment as my child’s journey through his own Aristotelian Mean. I have been through the spectrum of order and chaos well enough to know that order is not the goal. Life is. My hope for my kids is a meaningful, fulfilled life, where they value work, enjoy their triumphs and face their own challenges, with audacity and even humor.
Recently, my daughter didn’t get the Principal’s Award for the quarter for the first time. She was still an honor student but got an A- in one of her subjects. She told me she felt embarrassed. We talked about her feelings. We went through her quarter’s work process. Was she happy with her effort? Which efforts did she want to continue, and which did she want changed? I told her there was no shame in failing, just as long as she learns from it. I also asked if she really wanted the Principal’s Award, because being an honor student was already quite an achievement. By the end of the week, she was already tweaking her usual regimen. On Friday she told me she wanted to give up on-campus after-school activities for now to focus on schoolwork.
For me, the Aristotelian Mean has allowed me to keep in check my OC tendencies in parenting. It has stopped me from constantly pointing out mistakes when my child take on new interests. Instead, I follow her lead and supplement her process. Today her interests are in biographies. I would prefer her to be reading about world leaders, of course, but she prefers to read biographies of Shaquille O’neal and Yao Ming. Still, this way, I believe, motivation is developed within by allowing her to explore her own interests. This, I think, is the first building block toward a more accountable life in the future.
E-mail the author at mommynolimits@gmail.com.