Entry IV: Directives
Another week had passed, and as Monday began, I once again stepped into our classroom. My mind was already buzzing with tasks. Before anything else, I reminded my classmates to finish their index cards—those cards that every student needed to submit, with their name, picture, number, and address. Thankfully, everyone was present that day, so I took the opportunity to collect them.
To avoid confusion, I made sure to sort them alphabetically right after collecting them. It took a little more effort, but I knew it would save me from headaches in the future. As classes went on, I repeated this process. Even when it got tiring, I was grateful for the attendance sheet I had already prepared beforehand. That yellow pad with printed names, annotated ID numbers, and clear signatures had become my best friend.
By lunch, I thought I could finally take a break, but a ping from my phone interrupted my thoughts. I checked my screen and saw a notification: I was added to a group chat. Its name? "COE Class Officers 1st Year."
Apparently, it was a GC for all classroom officers from different sections—not just BSCE but also BSGE (Geodetic Engineering) and BSSE (Sanitary Engineering). I felt a strange mix of curiosity and nervousness as I scrolled through the group, seeing unfamiliar names and profile pictures. Then, someone pinned a message at the top.
"TO ALL MAYORS: GENERAL MEETING AT 6PM TONIGHT."
It was a brief message, no further context. Just that. I assumed it was a physical meeting, so I planned my entire afternoon around it. I hurried through the rest of my schoolwork and prepared myself for the evening. I even skipped a second snack just to make sure I wouldn't be late. At around 5:45 PM, I made my way to the school gates.
But as I approached the gate, the guard raised his hand.
"Students aren't allowed inside the campus after 6PM," he said sternly.
I panicked a little. "But... there's a meeting tonight, sir. For class mayors."
He raised an eyebrow. "I haven't been told anything about that."
Embarrassed, I stepped aside and messaged the GC. "Good evening po, I'm already at school but the guard says we can't enter anymore. Where is the meeting venue again?"
Silence. And then, a reply from the same person who posted the meeting notice earlier:
"Good evening, Mayor. It's an online meeting po. The link will be sent shortly."
My face turned red. I wanted to bury myself in the concrete floor I was standing on. I had just made a fool of myself in front of everyone—and to make it worse, the person who made the announcement wasn't a fellow student like I thought. It was a faculty member. A professor.
Strike one: I went to the school needlessly. Strike two: I messaged publicly and got corrected. I silently prayed there wouldn't be a third.
So, I went back home in shame. I kicked off my shoes, took a deep breath, and fired up my laptop. The Zoom link finally appeared around 6:15 PM. I clicked and joined, trying not to think about the embarrassment I had just endured.
Inside the meeting room were dozens of faces in their little boxes—class presidents, or mayors, like me. All of them looked either tired or serious, even shy or laid back. Then, the meeting started.
A voice from the other end greeted us all. "Good evening, everyone. Welcome to the first Class Officers' Meeting of the College of Engineering."
The speaker introduced himself as the College Governor—our highest-ranking student officer in the COE. His voice was calm but authoritative. He welcomed us again and thanked us for accepting our responsibilities as leaders of our respective sections.
He began with the agenda, introducing the values of good governance and setting a high bar for what was expected of us. "Leadership is not just about giving orders," he said, "but about setting an example. You are the first people your classmates will turn to."
He continued by explaining the purpose of the Engineering Department's Student Association (EDSA), and how we were expected to work with them hand-in-hand. "If you need anything—resources, support, connections—EDSA is here to help you," he added.
Then came the updates:
"Free-Borrow Scientific Calculators are now available for students who can't afford one or forgot theirs," he said. I noted it down quickly.
"The COE Water Station is open again for students. Please remind your classmates to bring tumblers." Another note.
"For major examinations, free coffee will be served at the COEffee stations located at both staircases of the COE building."
I grinned at the pun: COEffee station. Clever.
After that, he announced a major event scheduled in October—the COE Festival. "It will be a celebration of our college's excellence, our student's creativity, and most of all, our unity. Expect events, contests, and surprises," he said. Though October was still far away, I couldn't help but feel excited already.
He wrapped up the main part of the meeting with a few important directives:
All electronics in classrooms must be shut down after use unless there is another class immediately following. Each classroom mayor is in charge of reminding the last student or teacher in the room. An orientation event for all first-year COE students will be held at the Gymnasium next week. Attendance is mandatory.
"Questions?" the Governor asked. His voice echoed a bit in the call.
No one answered. Maybe everyone felt like me—still absorbing everything and also still embarrassed to speak.
"Alright then," he said with a warm tone. "Please be safe always. We are proud of you, our Class Mayors. Don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything."
The screen faded to the Zoom's end page, and I closed my laptop.
I leaned back on my chair, feeling a mix of relief and obligation. There was a lot to remember, and a lot to do. But I had taken notes carefully, and the information was fresh.
The next morning, I entered our classroom earlier than usual. Bailey was already there, munching on bread. "Long night?" he asked.
"You have no idea," I replied with a sigh and a smile.
I gathered my officers—Bella, Jeffrey, Jillian, Alvis, and Bailey—and told them about the Governor's announcements. They listened carefully, each nodding as I shared the updates. Bella even took her own notes.
"We'll help you distribute the info to the rest," she said.
I nodded, grateful. For now, I may be new to all this leadership work, but at least I wasn't doing it alone.
And so, I ended that long day with one thought in mind: This is just the beginning. More responsibilities would surely come, but I'd take them one step at a time.
For the good of BSCE 1-Roebling—and maybe even for myself.