LITERARY WORKS with the time I had received that some reason, the song “Barbie Girl” apology note. But what I do was playing in my head and I got remember is the person who gave sent back to the second grade. it to me.
In a yellow Sunday dress, with big The handwriting was my biggest hoop earrings and my hair tied into clue. Up until now, within the six pigtails, my whole batch was years that have already passed, dancing to this song in Gym 1. We this person still had the exact were all paired up and I remember same penmanship.
not liking who my partner was. I don’t recall why, I just know that I
For some reason, this sheet wasn’t too fond of him. reminded me of my friends. The early morning conversations in the Firework, Magic, Barbie Girl - the cafeteria, comments the overdramatic three songs I’ll always associate made during with my favorite school year. A debugging sessions, the ringing year filled with less worry and laughter shared because of more lightheartedness. We never random moments.
cared about appearances or social status. We barely ranted about the The days when we would spend workload or became night owls classes inside a classroom with the during exam season. We went off teacher standing in front and with doodling our creative writing on the whiteboard while thoughts and imaginations and we took down notes or had giggled all the stress away. We whispered open court conversations.
The babbled about the future as if we where we feared already had our whole lives getting hit by a basketball, planned out. suffering under the scorching heat as we ate the shared Tera-sized Yearbook A.Y. 1998-1999 french fries. The library used as a The Torreses have been with hidden getaway after classes to Southville for 25 years. Every chat about our day, sometimes yearbook we get is stored on the getting a bit too loud for the shelves outside of my room, librarian’s liking.
These are just some of the experiences we had in common. Of course, as time goes by, the school will change along with it.
arranged by year. A.Y. 1998-1999 was the oldest yearbook I found, where my brother, the eldest, was in 2nd grade and my eldest sister was in Junior Prep. My brother started in 1995, though I don’t know where that yearbook went.
Yes, I wasn’t even born during that Sadly, my mom told me it was time, but it made me realize how time to get rid of all the Barbie
Southville has become a part of dolls we had. She told me to my family. Housing five students rearrange the clothes, accessories, from 1995 up until today, five and even the house materials. For different generations to reach out to, to talk about the experience.
I can still hear the roaring cheers of my batchmates, a symbol of support as I played football during Intramurals, even though I had no idea what I was doing or why I was even playing. I can still feel the friction of my leather shoes on the metal ramp that you’re not supposed to surf down on and the annoyed glares of students with roller bags who needed to use it. I can still smell the sweaty swarm of students blocking the exit gates, the reason why my parents always complained whenever they would have to take a second round around the campus.
These are just some of the experiences we had in common. Of course, as time goes by, the school will change along with it. I heard there used to be bouncy inflatable houses every International Week or performers like Bamboo, Kamikazee, and Side A who used to play on stage. We don’t have those now, but we do have fancy Cultural Shows and energetic After School Parties.
The yearbook is one to cherish. I’m not the only one reminded of the old school days. My siblings, and even my parents, are blasted back to times filled with purple, pink, and green colors.
Of all the things I’ve discovered, I’ve come to realize that this time is precious. The more time that I can spend revisiting myself and my life, the more time to say goodbye to the things that pull at my heart.