You’ve Come A Long Way, Cory
I have always remembered Corazon Aquino, as a petite, quiet, most unassuming wisp of a girl in our grade school days at St. Scholastica’s college. It was 1942, we were in the fifth grade. Our class chanted songs in Nippongo. We were in the midst of the Japanese occupation. Except for learning another language, there was nothing extraordinary about school life. Our parents had a fear we did not quite understand at first. That fear grew in us too; but at age 12, what did we really understand of fear’s full definition?
Schools were in full swing despite the kempitai. In our school grounds the “in” game was “warball.” It was a kind of volleyball minus a net. I recall quite clearly that Core (as we used to call her then) was one of the better players, so when we formed a team we would make sure she was on our side.
Although popular in this sport, Core kept much to herself or was totally emerged in her books. I interviewed former classmates of ours and none recalled that they ever were gangmates with her. Somebody recalls that she was always with her sisters. Despite their age differences, they always stuck together. There seems to be a very close bond between Cory and her three sisters noticeable up to these times. The Cojuangco sisters are: Josephine (widow of Nicanor Reyes, Jr.) Teresita (Mrs. Ricardo A. Lopez); Passy (Mrs. Ernesto Teopaco). Cory comes between Teresita and Passy. The sisters seem to be their own best friends.
We graduated sixth grade under the tutelage of Sister Remigia, a gigantic-framed, jolly-faced German nun who was a disciplinarian in the good German tradition. I still remember Sis. Remigia’s feastday that falls on Oct. 2nd. We had celebrated the occasion that year with a party of bread stuffed with matamis-na-bao and lots of watermelons. Other nuns made up the teachers staff like Sis. Asunta, who taught physical education, she with the beautiful, watchful eyes and eternally rosy cheeks; Sis Pulcheria, who taught needlework and watched that we did our homework. Sister Caridad, who introduced the basics of the Japanese language.
It was in spartan surroundings, in St. Cecilia’s Hall, that 60 or so schoolgirls graduated in their intermediate grades with Corazon Cojuangco as class valedictorian.
A partial list of the graduating class that year is as follows: Doris Sapinoso, Fe Palo, Julieta Ramirez, Angela Perez, Carina Tancinco, Leticia Tan, Gloria Lucas, Lilia Lacson, Elvira and Mercy Arrastia, Angelita Trinidad, Norma Labrador, Angelita Kairuz, Betty Nassr, Teresa Torraya, Carmen Bouffard, Teresita Dalupan, Emma Torrdesillas, Pilar Cinco, Gloria Lacson, Teresita Borronco, Eliza Toda, Lourdes and Concepcion Delgado, Solita Romans, Eumelia Concepcion, Alice Garcia, Amelita Adriano, Maria Clara Badillo, Celina Olaguer, Celia Elizalde, Lourdes Pilares, Carmen Reinares, Amelia and Magdalena Vitug.
The liberation of Manila came shortly after this graduation. St. Scholastica was badly damaged during the war and was unable to open classes immediately. There was a large group of SSC girls who transferred to the Assumption Convent on Herran Street. Cory
Cojuangco was among those girls.
The Assumption method of method of teaching was entirely different from the rigid discipline that St. Scholastica is known for. The German nuns were concerned principally with religion and the textbooks. At the Assumption, the French nuns laid great emphasis on social consciousness (even that far back), the importance of being a lady plus a curriculum that made us enjoy school life rather than be a slave to homework and term papers. That is perhaps why, when St. Scholastica’s opened their doors a year later, a great part of the girls chose to stay at the Assumption. Cory Cojuangco was among the group who remained.
Cory had always been a top student. She was always outstanding in math and all the “heavy” subjects that made happy-go-lucky girls like myself groan. It was no wonder that in college, she decided to major in math and French.
After our freshman year, there was a small exodus of Assumption girls who left the country to finish their studies in America. Among them: Carmen Fabella (Mrs. Celso Bate) and her sister Virginia; Ana Marie Ledesma (Mrs. George Litton) and the Cojuangco sisters. They all went to study in Ravenhill (Philadelphia), a sister school of the Assumption.
We lost contact with one another after that. Years later, from the society pages, I learned that Cory had gotten married to a young, up-and-coming politician from Tarlac, Benigno Aquino. More than four decades later, after the assassination of Ninoy, Cory and I met in one of the early rallies. She immediately extended her hand and asked how I had been. After the usual salutations, I kidded her and said how well she remembered my name. “I am not that old, you know,” Cory quickly answered. My children, who were with me at that time were terribly impressed that Cory knew me and was my classmate. “You never told us that!” they quipped. It was during that period that Cory was reaching superstar fame.
Not too long ago, one of my sons, in disgust over the Marcos regime brusquely told me: “Mom, what has your generation done that we should deserve a life like this?” I was dumbfounded that he dared question me that way, but I was angry because I did not have an answer.
After the historic four days just passed, when the heavens sent forth their rays of courage, strength and determination that seemed to envelope us all with a power so great that it sliced through the heart of evil, we face our spring. My generation is at last redeemed. It has emerged triumphant, led by a wisp of a girl carrying us all into bright yellow tomorrows.
