CursedBatch mejo censored

The "Cursed" Batch That Never Gets a Break

Written by Eunice Anny Morales • Board by John Ivan Pasion | 26 May 25

Batch na may balat sa pwet na batch. 

That’s the running joke in our circle. At this point, it's either the universe is playing an elaborate prank on us—or we’ve just become the default sacrificial lambs of educational transitions and institutional renovations.

Let’s rewind. In 2019, we completed Grade 10—technically equivalent to 4th year high school under the old curriculum. Our seniors before K-12 had grand graduations to mark this milestone. Us? We had a “moving-up” ceremony, a bittersweet compromise during the curriculum shift.

Fast forward to 2021: the pandemic hit during our supposed actual graduation in Grade 12. Instead of walking across a stage, we walked from our bedroom to the kitchen while watching a pre-recorded ceremony on Facebook Live. Some of us even joked that our diplomas were just shoutouts on social media. That was our “big day.”

But we took it in stride. We moved on. We entered college with fresh hope. Finally, we said, our chance to walk in caps and gowns in front of our families at the prestigious Philippine International Convention Center (PICC) would come.

Well, surprise! Pamantasan ng Lungsod ng Maynila announced that the much-anticipated annual commencement exercises will be held at SMX Convention Center, not PICC. The reason? Renovation. 

READ: https://www.facebook.com/angpamantasan/posts/pfbid0Mwed4QwBDHBKzXYdVUgJqoYrNtB42bkEexBUqdrcVzcfHDUq1UsL235butdHrCGel

According to reports, the PICC’s last major renovation was back in 2003, mainly focused on modernization and infrastructure upgrades. That’s over 20 years ago. And after decades of standing tall through typhoons, summits, and thousands of ceremonies—it chose now to take a break?

We can’t help but laugh. Because if we don’t, we might just cry.

But let’s be clear: SMX is not a bad venue. In fact, it's one of the largest privately run convention centers in the country, with modern amenities and a 7,100 sqm function space– roughly the size of more than ten basketball courts. However, let’s not pretend it’s the same. 

PICC has been the ceremonial home for PLM graduates for generations. It carries weight, tradition and most importantly, our expectations—built on years of sleepless nights, mental breakdowns, group projects from hell, and tears shed in 7:00 AM classes.

To top it off, this year’s graduation won’t even be in September. It’s been moved to October 28–30. So yes—after years of pushing through deadlines, we finally get to graduate… only to spend the next two days lighting candles at the cemetery for All Saints’ Day. One moment you’re celebrating, the next you’re in deep reflection with your family. Talk about an emotional whiplash. 

And while waiting a month or two for graduation seems like the perfect window to do something—apply for a job, travel, unwind—we all know how it goes. But there’s that classic saying that every parent believes: “Takaw aksidente pag-graduating” So, as much as we’d love to go on that swimming trip or book that Airbnb, we’ve hit pause for now. Plans are postponed, all in the name of making it to the finish line in one piece.

Jokes aside, we know nobody’s really at fault. But what are the odds? For a batch that has already been through online classes, modular chaos, and academic burnout, this feels like the final punchline.

And maybe… just maybe, there’s still a way to make it a little better. We’re holding onto hope. Please, if there’s a chance, let this be the time we get a win—no more delays, no more surprises.

Despite the venue switch, the awkward schedule, and the layers of irony—we’re graduating. Finally. Maybe not where we dreamed it, but we’ll make the most of it. We’ll still cheer for each name called. We’ll still wear our medals and graduation caps. 

Because even if the stage is different, we made it—no curriculum transition, pandemic, nor renovation can take that away from us.

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