17/02/2026
Story time
I am a working student. I work as a call center agent while studying full-time. I want to share something that truly hurt me—something I’ve been carrying quietly.
For two weeks, I kept going back and forth between my workplace and my school just to have my excuse letter signed by our dean. That letter explained why I couldn’t attend some school events—because of my work, and sometimes because I wasn’t feeling well. I badly needed that excuse because if you miss a major school event, you’re required to pay ₱200. Para nako, dako kaayo na nga kantidad. That money could already buy food for several days, so I had no choice but to keep asking for that signature.
The dean asked me to submit my supervisor’s employee ID, so I contacted my supervisor because I also needed my clearance completed to enroll. When I finally submitted everything, it was already exactly 5:00 PM. She told me she would no longer sign it because it was already past office hours and asked, “unsa bayran nimo sa akong overtime?” I understood her, even if I felt tired and defeated, so I quietly went back to my boarding house.
The next day, I returned to school, still hoping to finish my clearance so I could finally enroll. But again, there was another requirement—she asked me to print my supervisor’s physical ID and my work schedule. I did everything she asked. I printed all the documents and rushed back, only to find out she wasn’t there. They told me she was in a meeting and wouldn’t be available until 4 PM. I was exhausted. I also had work that day and needed rest, so I decided to come back the next day instead.
When I returned, she checked all my documents. Everything was complete. And then she said something that deeply hurt me. She told me, “Next time, I will not sign this. You need to attend those events because you are a student. You need to prioritize your studies, not your work.”
I understand her point. I really do. But what broke my heart was how easily those words were said, as if my situation didn’t matter. I don’t work because I want to. I work because I have to. I don’t have enough money to support my education. I work to pay for my tuition, my daily expenses, and my boarding house. I work because that is the only way I can continue studying.
How could she say that when she already knew I was a working student? The very reason I work is so I can finish school. Because without work, I wouldn’t even be able to enroll.
At that moment, I didn’t argue. I didn’t explain myself anymore. I just stayed quiet and said, “Sige lang.” I chose to understand. Maybe she has never experienced how hard it is to work full-time while studying at the same time. Maybe she has never known what it feels like to be tired every day but still keep going—because you have no other choice
