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Entry II: Responsibility
The sun barely crested over the hills when I stepped onto campus, my backpack feeling heavier than it should have. It was my first official day at Samtoy del Sur State University, and despite the nerves gnawing at my stomach, I felt an odd sense of excitement humming under my skin.
Finding my way to the assigned room for our first subject was like navigating a maze, with buildings that all looked too similar. As I climbed the steps to the second floor, scanning the small room numbers etched into the door frames, I heard someone call out, "Hey! Finn?"
I turned around and almost laughed out loud. Standing there was Johann Bailey Apolonio, my old classmate from elementary school back in Nueva Madrid.
"Bailey!" I said, grinning.
He laughed and gave me a solid clap on the back. "Man, I didn't expect to see you here."
"Same here," I said. "What are the odds?"
Apparently, the odds were pretty high — Bailey was not just another face on campus; he was my classmate again, in the very same section.
We walked into the room together, talking about everything and nothing at once, filling in the years that had passed. Inside, students were already gathering, finding seats and introducing themselves to whoever sat nearby. The room was buzzing with nervous energy. By the time everyone squeezed inside, there were 43 of us — a packed house.
A few minutes later, the door opened, and a man stepped in. He wasn't our adviser, but he carried the kind of authority that made the room immediately fall silent.
"You're BSCE 1-Roebling," he said, after scanning the room briefly. "Welcome."
That simple statement made everything sink in a little deeper. This was it — our journey officially began today.
After the short meeting, our class was left with a couple of free hours before the next schedule. Naturally, hunger set in. Bailey and I decided to head out for some snacks.
The food fair was set up just in front of Founder's Plaza, a lively place buzzing with vendors, students, and the scent of deep-fried goodness filling the air. We were just about to line up for some hot dogs when I heard familiar voices calling out.
"Finn!"
I turned and saw three familiar faces weaving through the crowd toward me: Danny Villanueva, Ma. Judy Abaniz, and Zara Nancy Villamor — my friends from the inner city school.
My heart lifted instantly. It was comforting to see familiar faces here, especially on a day that felt so overwhelming.
They had just wrapped up their first classes at the College of Nursing and decided to grab food too. It was surreal, standing there in the food fair, chatting and laughing like old times, but now as college students. We bought snacks together — Bailey joining in easily — and sat by one of the shaded benches, exchanging first impressions of college life.
Just as we were about to start on round two of our snacks, the bell rang, cutting our gathering short. We said quick goodbyes, promising to meet up again soon.
The days after that passed in a blur. Lectures, introductions, campus tours — everything meshed into a chaotic but strangely thrilling routine. Before I realized it, it was the second week.
That Monday morning, I found myself back in the same classroom, sitting beside Bailey as usual. The same teacher from the first day came in, carrying a small whiteboard marker and a clipboard.
"Alright, BSCE 1-Roebling," he said, "it's time to elect your classroom officers."
He explained the structure quickly. Unlike other universities, our class president was called the Class Mayor. Every College had a Governor, and above all of them was the Student Council President, who represented the whole university.
"Now, we'll start the nomination," he said, clicking his marker cap open with a loud pop.
I slouched a little in my chair, not really thinking of volunteering. I wasn't exactly leadership material; back in the inner city school, the highest position I ever had was Assistant Treasurer.
Just then, the classmate sitting next to me — a guy named Desmond — nudged me.
"Hey, want to be Mayor?" he whispered.
I hesitated, feeling a small knot of doubt twist in my stomach. I looked around — everyone else seemed just as unsure and hesitant.
I took a deep breath. Maybe it was time to push myself. Maybe this was one of those moments you weren't supposed to overthink.
"Sure," I said. "Why not?"
Desmond immediately raised his hand.
"I nominate Finn!" he called out.
The teacher looked up from his clipboard. "Alright, nominated. Come here in front."
I felt all eyes on me as I walked toward the whiteboard. It wasn't a long walk, but it felt like miles.
Standing there, the teacher asked, "Your name, please?"
I cleared my throat. "Finn, sir. Finn Liwayway, sir."
He nodded and wrote my name in bold letters on the whiteboard.
"Any other nominees?" he asked, glancing at the room.
Silence.
Not a single hand went up.
"Well then, by virtue of sole nomination," he said, smiling a little, "Finn Liwayway is your Class Mayor."
The class clapped, some louder than others, and I gave a small, sheepish wave before returning to my seat.
From there, the responsibility shifted quickly onto my shoulders. The teacher handed me the task of leading the election for the other class officers.
We worked through it efficiently:
Class Vice Mayor: Bella Amelia Rivera — sharp, confident, and outspoken.31Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡneTBplJumT
Class Secretary: Jeffrey Brooks Aludino — organized and quiet, but thorough.31Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyz6kwOn1UN
Class Treasurer: Jillian Dominguez — good with numbers, and even better at budgeting.31Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjXIJRRPfRl
Class Auditor: Alvis Giordon Fagano — a stickler for rules, perfect for keeping things honest. Class Business Manager: Johann Bailey Apolonio — my old buddy, ready to help with fundraisers and events.
By the time we finished, it felt like we had assembled a strong team.
Still, as I left the classroom that day, the weight of the role started to settle on my shoulders.
I was the Class Mayor now.
Me.
The pressure was undeniable, pressing at the back of my mind like a small but persistent wave. Could I really lead an entire section? Was I capable of handling the responsibilities?
I didn't have all the answers.
But deep down, a small, determined voice told me: I'll try. I'll give it my best.
And sometimes, that's all you need to start.
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