I remembered a time during college while I was sitting on a bench of dapitan area smoking marlboro lights with my literature professor, Nerisa Guevara. I asked her about her physical change.
Background to this conversation was that before she became my professor. I saw her walking around campus and her fashion was different. Her fashion was postmodern new york coco chanel ala pinoy. I have heard before that she was this fabulous brilliant professor of literature. To me it was no surprise since her family name were the old rich academe families of manila. But it had given me a curiousity on what it would be like to be taught by her. I wished that I could be one of her students but at that time it was far fetch since I was not majoring literature. But I dont know if the gods loved me so much that they heard me wish. Before I could graduate I failed my survey of world literature II. In my midst of panic I hurriedly checked the schedules during enrollment to re-take my failed literature subject. At that time I didnt care who my professor would be. All I care was that it will fit my schedule together with my other subjects and that I would pass. Anyways, she became my professor.
At last I shared a pack of marlboro lights talking to my dream professor in a corner of dapitan. Her fashion lately were what is common or what society dictates. I asked what cause the sudden change. She told me that being normal is more difficult than being different. The tension of the middle are stronger rather than just being different. Being different is you are in one side rather than when your in the middle. Your have this great tension of being in the middle to be pulled to both direction. Balancing the tension between darkness and light, sound and silence, movement and stillness was every beauty of the middle ground. But once you embrace the tension of the middle ground you can find this utmost beauty of it.
That was the time when I realize that being a middle was beautiful.
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