Kill the Lasallian Stereotype

It has been hard being a Lasallian alumnus. It has been hard being a Lasallian—period.

I once walked the halls of the LS building and the rest of my beloved university thinking that what I was experiencing, then, as a BSA major was the toughest series of hurdles I will ever have to leap over.

Now, I could just adore and be amazed of my surprisingly naïve undergrad self.

Getting to class on time, understanding God-knows-what computations, completing good-accounting-format quizzes, and meeting the 2.0 mark are no way near the things that worry me now. Then again, getting anywhere on time, for me, has always been difficult.

Many times did I hear legends of what the “real” world is: the world beyond the green gates and graduation. Those stories intimidated the simple-minded girl that I was. Accounts of killer bosses, destroyed social lives, and rock-bottom wages composed the corporate horror story book. Hearing them made me think that I will not last a second in the so-called real world.

I work a supposed eight-to-five job but actually get to leave the office at nine—on good days. Work can go as late as eleven and even as early as…the next day. Pressure and tension, you ask? It’s an emotional rollercoaster that will shame Enchanted’s Space Shuttle. How about the pay? Hmm, I still want to maintain political correctness, so I should simply invoke my right to privacy on this one. Queer and truly out of my character: still, no amount of this culture shocked me or drove me out of my sanity.

What did, though, was how people in this real world that I am now dwelling in see us Lasallians. I have always known that others tag us as rich, affluent, apathetic, English spewing coños who would rather be thrown in jail than be caught eating in some God-forsaken turo-turo or wearing some cheap signature brand imitation. I have always found it a little humorous, really, because everyone else do have tags of their own. But never did I expect that I will one day be offended by this long-lived stereotype.

My officemates and I were discussing our plans to further our careers. There was this girl who was saying how she wanted to migrate to the States and establish a decent career (“decent” actually meaning ridiculously high-paying). I told them that I had no plans of moving for a job. I shared this without making any reservations and not knowing that I was being, apparently, a wee bit tactless.

“Kayo talagang mga taga-La Salle, ayaw niyo mag-abroad, noh?” She commented, implying that she has heard other “taga-La Salles” say the same thing. “Palibhasa hindi niyo na kailangan.”

That statement hit like some brawler gave me an uppercut and dislocated my jaw. But I took that blow and did nothing about it. All I could come up with was a disturbed look and a remark that went, “Nye!”

The trouble with me is that though I’m known for my quips and hirits, I rarely come up with wise and hard-hitting comebacks quickly enough to counter an offensive remark. Rather, I settle with pathetic sighs and sound clips of disgust. That is why though I was completely thrown off by what my officemate said, I was not able to shed some light on the matter to disprove any misnomers.

It has been a while since that happened, but I’m still making sense of it. I’m swimming in thoughts of my shoulda-woulda-couldas. I should have told her off. I would have. I could have. But how would I have put it? What could I have possibly said? As I see it now, there is just no right thing to say to defend us Lasallians. I could choke myself explaining how we are not what we have been always perceived to be, but the stereotype will just upstage my lame attempt of defense.

It’s not even just that one incident. Different people that I have come across mostly imply the precise truthfulness of the Lasallian stereotype—commonly for being, well, financially able. I am appalled not because they think all Lasallians are rich. I can’t even blame them if they do because our tuition fees are simply not that affordable, to say the least. I’m getting all riled up because people think Lasallians do what we do just because all of us are rich.

There are Lasallians who come from wealthy families. There are Lasallians who are heirs to a surreal family fortune. There are Lasallians who drive their cars to school. There are Lasallians who are sons and daughters of big time executives. Thing is, there are, but not everyone who is and was once enrolled at DLSU was born with a damn silver spoon in the freaking mouth. Much more, we think the way we do, because of what we’ve learned and not because of what financial indicator we might possess.

Even though I despise the way other people have come to see Lasallians, sadly, I still can’t blame them if they think that we are one bunch of arrogant, elitist, know-nothing, spoiled brats. How could I really? There are just too many visible Lasallians out there who glorify this stereotype as if they thrive on it.

You heard me. THRIVE. As I see it, while the rest of us have been working our butts off to make a reputable name for ourselves, of course incidentally, paying our alma mater back what has been due for providing us education, some low-life, selfish half-wits we call our schoolmates have also been busy embarrassing themselves and not using common sense, of course incidentally, smearing filth across the almost-century-old name of De La Salle University. And because of them, it is harder nowadays to walk with our heads up high.

Well, with the UAAP scandals now embedded perpetually onto our image, how in tar nation could we? If it were the only chance Lasallians were given to show the world what we’re made of, I’d say our detractors are absolutely right. An old, hairy man, who was unfortunately a Lasallian, hit FEU’s star player in the nape. Two scoundrels cheated their way into our school, played ball, and got caught in their pool of lies, only to prove that they were the uneducated and ill-mannered boys they started out to be. Sadly, these three people have represented the millions of Lasallians, students and alumni from across the years. Talk about misrepresentation.

More disappointing is the little known fact that we also have some schoolmates that see being a Lasallian as a status symbol. They find this status symbol as a license to think less of other people. I have come across Lasallians who are so disgustingly elitist. Sometimes, these people try so hard to live up to their so-called status and to impress others, I catch them making up a story to make themselves appear wealthy, namedropping in their anecdotes, or spewing carabao English that cannot possibly be more carabao. I usually laugh at these losers who don’t know that the only one they are fooling is their foolish social-climbing selves. But in my laughter, our image is worsened once more.

Then again, these are just several people. You might be thinking that others can’t be illogical and generalize our population based on the bad things they relate to us. Think again and, this time, try to be less idealistic and naïve. People will always think of us as one group. We may all be different: smart, involved, concerned, aware, kind, humble…but it will only take one undignified schoolmate to ruin it for everybody.

You also might say, “To hell with what other people think.” That’s true. But if we always have to contend with our stereotype and we fail to disprove it, wouldn’t it be harder to hold our heads up high, if at all? I’m sure we are all proud to be Lasallians. Then, we should work together to keep those people, the ones who take our school pride against us, at a minimum (keep the show as graceful and classy, though).

We are more than our tuition fees, designer outfits, cars, and families. Being a Lasallian is not a status symbol. Rather, we should consider Lasallian education a prized accolade. Christian achievers for God and country, we all claim to be. Unless we do anything about this stereotype uprising, these will all remain as claims, when we perfectly know that we’re simply better than what others think.