When being competitive was the only personality I had in high school

High school, like any other educational institution, operates under meritocracy. Students who perform well are given more opportunities to perform even better. Like headless zombies without any awareness that they're participating in a broken system, students go to extreme lengths to get ahead. I was horny for achievements---ridiculously competitive. It was a personality I had in high school until I graduated.  When I received my first 3.0 in college, everything changed. I got disillusioned. This time I was fully aware of my inability to be the best at everything, because I wasn't. And even if I sold my soul to get ahead, I wouldn't because I knew that even if there was no way out of that meritocratic institution, I could still navigate my way through it without losing my sense of self-worth and identity.

Now, I am still trying to unlearn so many things high school taught and shaped me to become. It's not too late, though. But going back on those memories won't hurt.

Reduced to scribbles on a board

Before the conclusion of each grading period, all of our subject teachers would gather in one room to compute the grades of all top students from two sections (Science and Technology).  A whole afternoon would be allotted for it resulting to an early dismissal.  Most students would take advantage of it, heading straight home or somewhere else.  But for those in the running for top honors, the next 3 to 4 hours would be the longest  hours of their lives. At least for me, it felt like that.

Those nail-biting hours included the following:

Students' academic performance over a grading period are reduced to numbers and percentages on a wide blackboard. Top performers from both sections are combined to form the initial ranking. Next to the student names are the grades for all subjects. The first part of the computation would result to the initial academic average ranking.  Then, a separate computation would begin. This time it would be for the extra-curricular activities. Even if you topped or ranked higher in the academic ranking, the extra-curricular percentage would have a significant weight on the over-all computation. If you did not get involved in any of these "activities," it might cost you the top spot. And so, as audiences, we would wait with anxious anticipation while our teachers come up with the final ranking, hoping our extra-curricular efforts would help us rank higher.

High school was toxic AF

What's toxic about high school was how the educational system inadvertently forced students to go extreme lengths to end on top. The competition in our section was cut-throat. You can smell it in the air along with other stronger pubescence odors. Back then, you had to be good at everything. Academic standing wasn't enough. You need to be involved in non-academic activities too.

If you're an introvert  who's only focused on getting good grades, you might want to consider breaking out of your comfort zone. I did. 

The things I'd do to get ahead

I found myself joining the cotillion dance for our JS prom to earn extra-curricular points. I joined cheer dancing for our intramurals which required us to stay late after school and practice during weekends.

HudyakaSS

One time, our section was gaslighted and emotionally manipulated---without us realizing it---to join Hudyaka, a mass dance competition held after Christmas day in Baybay. During one class, our second year high school adviser cried while pleading for us to represent the school in the competition.  Additional points and examination exemption were used to convince us, but still, most of us were adamant. The next day, our adviser's partner, who was also one of our subject teachers, stormed the room and basically gaslighted everyone. When he left, half of the class expressed---with silent acquiescence---their commitment to join, including myself.

Together we stand, united we fall

I've witnessed and participated in blatant cheating, tampering of answers to add a point or two, and working together as one section to pass an exam. All of these were done to improve our grades, maintain our rankings, and emerge on top.

The yes-man

The top students were always encouraged to join contests inside and outside the school. As a competitive honor student trying to maintain my academic standing, I said yes to all opportunities, even at the expense of my mental health. I don't know, maybe, because earning those participatory extra-curricular points  was better than not earning anything.

A one-man comedy show

Let's just say I spread myself thin for those enticing extra-curricular points. One time, I embarrassed myself in front of a crowd, fumbling for the printout of my declamation piece. I fished it out of my chest pocket, read the part I forgot, folded and tuck it back, continued my declamation, and mortified myself as I forgot once again the words from my piece, which I only rehearsed hours earlier. The things I'd do back then to get ahead.

There were activities I enjoyed participating and won, but there were also contests I joined because I had to. The memorable ones were the writing contests and quiz bees, those that didn't require me standing in front of a crowd.

My first and last time running as an officer

In my 2nd or 3rd year, I ran for a position in our school organization. I remember my skin crawling whenever we went from one room to another during the campaign period. I came up with a joke and delivered it before my spiel ended. It was the lamest joke I ever made in high school. Not my proudest moment.  Even the whole "running for a position" thing was not entirely my idea. It was a knee-jerk reaction upon learning that the student from the other section, who I was against with for the top honor,  was running for a top position.  It was an insecure and misguided attempt to even the playing field. Unfortunately, the other student won, and I lost. My well-intentioned puns didn't help one bit.

The problem with secondary education

While high school was a memorable period in my life, it was toxic. I was led to believe that hard work would result to good grades. Sounds harmless, but when this mindset is drummed into impressionable minds, it can be harmful. When teenagers are just starting out to explore their own individuality and the world around them, a toxic environment can smother their blossoming potentials. A competitive environment, though encouraging, can snuff out sparks of unique brilliance and self-expression.

A message to my teenage self

Because I can't change anything from my high school experience, this is what I'd tell my 13 year old self if I travel back in time: "You don't need to be good at everything. You just need to be good at one thing, and that should be something you love, something you're passionate about."

13 year old me would be surprised. And even if his older, much wiser self tells him so, he'd still spread himself thin, run for a position he doesn't care about, pull his first ever all-nighter,  cheat if he needs to, join every single school contest, and preoccupy most of his high school days with the fear of not graduating valedictorian, because he won't, and it won't matter. Because things will get complicated once you enter college. You'd get disillusioned; your high school accomplishments wouldn't matter as much, you'd meet people smarter than you. And all these things might overwhelm you. These might even discourage you. But don't worry, there will always be a you-shaped hole in the world, one that you can only fill. One that will wait for you patiently until you're ready to show  the world what you're made of, the only way you can.