Our classroom was strangely quiet that morning when I arrived. All my classmates were in their seats, thinking deeply and their faces, a mixture of exhaustion and worry. One of them came to me and asked if I had finished my research paper. I could only shake my head in reply. It was then that I knew why the class was so silent; our research paper was due for submission the next day.
After a while, one of my classmates rose from his sit and stood in front of all of us. Everybody turned to him, in hope that he might have the answer to our problem. He told us in a shaky voice that we might as well leave the class and finish our research papers at home. Yet, he looked determined and serious. Almost immediately, the class exploded into a commotion. Right at that moment, the flashbacks of the times that our access in the science and computer laboratories was denied came rushing through my mind. We kept on visiting the lab everyday since June, but the in – charge would always say that it was not available. It was either another teacher would be conducting classes or the other students had very important projects to finish.
Everybody was on their feet now, asking each other if they would really boycott that day’s classes. I remained in my seat looking puzzled. I didn’t know what to do. Half of me wanted to leave and half was thinking of the consequences of following the suggestion. Someone suddenly came up behind me to ask if I was leaving. Without hesitation, I nodded though I wasn’t sure if I would. She then went to a crowd of girls and chatted with them for a while. Then wordlessly, they crept out of the room. Before long, one – fourth of the class was already gone.
I was still on my seat when I saw our Physics teacher approaching the room. My other classmates hurriedly picked up their bags and walked past him. I was the only one left when he reached the door. He looked at me as if demanding an explanation. But I turned away from his stare, picked up my bag and left.
I was able to finish my research paper. Minutes later, a classmate called and told me that the administration was planning to sanction the whole fourth year because of the boycott. Suspension was being contemplated. She also said that I was singled out as the one who led the boycott. That night, I told my father what happened, hoping he would be sympathetic to me. But he got angry instead and blamed me for the turn out.
The skidding of the tires of the car brought me out of my reverie. After what seemed like forever, we reached my teacher’s house. Electricity was out that time so it was dark and hot inside. Only a single candlelight was burning in the middle of the room. Three of my classmates were there. One of them started explaining. “We were all confused at that time. Nothing else mattered but the paper. We looked for someone to decide for us and we saw her. She usually had the best decisions. It wasn’t her fault we followed her. It’s just that we really didn’t know what to do.”
Silence. I pondered what my classmate said. My Dad suddenly broke the ice by starting another row of endless talks, pointing out to me where I had gone wrong and how stupid we were. But I found out he didn’t need to. I already knew.
The lights went back. I stood up to explain my side. My Dad stopped talking instantly. Confusion and the lack of a sense of responsibility were the only reasons I could give them. I apologized. My teacher said he understood and accepted my apology.
Amidst all the confusion, one must always learn to go back to the basics…
