We're Sorry Part 1 (For Parents with so-called "troubled" teens)

Why do teenagers commonly hate it when we are being told off? Why do we hate it when you pick out the mistakes we make and suddenly go onto a screaming marathon about it?

We're sorry. 

For me, I hate the fact that my parents see the small mistakes I have and make a big deal about it. I'm ashamed because I can't satisfy them as much as they have satisfied my whole life. Lavishing me in food, clothes, technology and so much more just to make sure that I have BOTH my wants and needs. And seeing the small crease in between their eyebrows just makes me cry. 

We want to be perfect for you, but it's just hard to meet the levels we've set for you to be proud of us. We scream for you to stop lecturing us because we're tired of hearing how broken we are. Specially when you start lecturing us about how your friend's child is better than us and how we should be following that example, we're sorry, but we feel as if we're not enough for you. We feel as if you'd rather have them as your child. 

We're tired. Just tired. We make mistakes and we're judged at our school. All we just really want is to go home and see our parents and siblings just smiling at us, like they see us as a gift from God. 

We're not saying that you shouldn't tell us off, because we also need the attention you give us. We're just trying to explain why we do this. Please try to understand us. We're sorry for being such a huge luggage to you, but we're just a teen struggling to get through high school and college. Trying to get a job so we can start repaying you. 

(I was inspired to write this from the story I read in wattpad and a teen posting a video in youtube about she hates her parents. I think that it's unreasonable for us teenagers to say that we hate our parents, I believe that we just have our heads in the skies, too proud to admit that we're hurt.)

Stickers for the Future

Development Communication. 

Dream Course ko to mga pre. Hindi pwedeng hindi ako papasa. Kailangan ko to. (This is my dream course. I can't accept that I won't pass. I need this.)

I was at the brink of being paranoid knowing that I didn't pass my dream course. God knows how much I've cried, prayed, knelt down, and just hugged myself because I didn't pass. I pitied myself. I looked crazy, I was being ridiculous.

My mother picked me up and held me by my shoulders as she stared at me. 

"Pulutin mo yang sarili mo. Hindi mo pa to katapusan. May paraan pa ang Panginoon. Nagkulang ka lang siguro, punuin mo yang kulang mo." (Pick yourself up. It's not the end. God has plans for you. Fill up what you have lacked.)

I'd like to share this story once I've made something out of myself. A teacher for the youths’ minds, a broadcaster covering stories, or hopefully, simply a journalist traveling the world.

Being a journalist maybe my biggest dream. I remember waking up at 4 in the morning every Wednesdays just to watch stories on iWitness. Seeing hunger, extinction, poverty, corruption, and everything else that makes you sigh and just cry out, ‘what happened to the paradise we call Earth?’

I maybe young, but dreams are for everyone. Before I was scared, ashamed to be honest, to answer adults on what I wanted to be when I grow up. I always wanted to tell them, “I want to change the world.” There was always that thought that they were going to laugh at me and say that my answer was immature. But it’s true; I want to change the world.

I’d want to see knee cuts on children because they were playing too much with their friends, rather than just skin and bones.

I would prefer seeing couples hand in hand than 10 children on a mother’s back while her husband is pushing them on their kariton.

I would rather see Politicians screaming and debating on how the country will rise up, rather than their backs turned against each other with their pockets full.

The media gave me this image of our world; some were entertaining, Do-it-yourselfers recipes and fashion tips, but mostly were eye openers. I salute the people who have the guts to click the ‘post’ button and letting the world see reality. And I want to become like them. I don’t want to become the journalist who covered on the story of how a bank was robbed; I want to become the person who helped shape the world.

This dream started when I was young, the beginning of my second grade. A storm passed by the Philippines, and thousands were struggling to get themselves back on their feet. I was exposed to my church’s activities to help people who were affected by the storm. At a young age, I remember my mom telling me to come with her and help our church’s volunteers to carry the plastic bags of relief goods.

I recall being left at the jeepney we rode as the adults were talking about something I didn’t bother asking. I was holding little stickers I achieved from our school fair that day just by picking out 3 balls with the same color while blind folded. Admiring at the pink flowers and butterflies, I was excited to place them on my closet door. I shoved it inside my skirt and as I looked up, a girl with a runny nose and nails covered with dirt was staring at me. Being the common 8 year old girl I was, my manners told me that I should wave and smile at her, but pushing that aside, I was disgusted by the young girl.

My manners overruled and I waved at her. While looking back to see if my mom was still busy, I asked her to climb into the jeepney with me. My memory is failing me, so, I forgot her name but the only thing that I do remember is that she had 6 older brothers and 1 baby sister. We talked about her school being flooded and how classes weren’t still resumed. Before we could even really play, my mother came back and told me that we were leaving in a few minutes. I looked back at the girl and took the strip of stickers in my pocket, giving it to her. Next thing I knew, she was giving me a toothy grin, ironically, and she had both of her front teeth missing.

I would do anything to see a smile like that again. By the simplest act, she gave me the brightest smile I have ever seen until this day. It beats the fact of me passing into this University.

I tried my best to get into this course and the nights I cried my eyes out because I was losing hope, were all worth it. Every Tuesday and Thursday, I felt like I was closer to the new Earth that I’ve dreamed off and I was seeing even more smiles just like what the girl I met years back had.


And I can finally see myself closing my eyes and sighing in content.