I suppose if you're walking randomly across the street and you call out "BCD!", you'd know that any person who'd understand was once an IDS student. Who doesn't know BCD? What is actually an abbreviation of "Beautification and Cleanliness Drive" has transformed into a very commonly used verb just like when you say 'google it up'. Mag-BCD na ko bai. Hala, ma-BCD jud ka ana! Every school rule you broke, every time you were late for class, every time you hide your ID in your chest pocket, every mischief you've done, is another bar on your BCD record and pretty much determines how long you'll be staying in campus during the summer break weeding gardens, planting durantas, and slaving away under the heat of the sun until the unyielding, OC head disciplinarian finds your results to her satisfaction.
And we all have one person to thank for it - Ma'am Tuanda.
Being sent to Ma'am Tuanda's office was worse than being sent to the principal (not even close). And getting her approval for activities is almost as bad as going to the university DSA. Nevertheless, Ma'am Tuanda and her BCDs have always been one of the most trending topics during breaks: how she caught someone breaking school rules, how "unfair" BCDs are and "why is the school even tolerating this?!", and, of course, the random clump of hair on the hallway because someone refused to cut their hair short and you know, Ma'am Tuanda strikes again! (uso man gud ang F4 atong panahona, haha). Comparing how the BCD was warranted was as interesting as gossiping about puppy love and it goes without saying that the higher the number of BCDs per offense, the more interesting the story behind is.
But then again, everyone more or less follows the same relationship development with our dear Ma'am Tuanda. As freshmen you get told by your upperclassmen to never EVER cross her at your life's expense, and so you start off your first year by avoiding her at all cost. By the second year you've grown accustomed to the IDS life, your punctuality starts to slack off, and you start receiving your fair share of BCDs. Aside from fearing her, there's also a hint of loathing towards her for giving you more BCDs than you think you deserve. Juniors, and you're well past initiation. You're a full-blown IDS scholar, actively taking more and more responsibilities for all your extra-curricular activities and your voice regarding school issues is more important than ever. You feel like you own the school, but then again, you always get reminded you don't own her. This time, you find another reason to loathe her and her extremely conservative decisions. Organizing events get very difficult, passing new laws becomes hell, all because every paper has to pass through her desk..and if you don't smile enough you'll never get any of those signed. But the senior year, ah, the senior year is another story. She handles your El Filibusterismo class, and while you were all ridiculously quiet and attentive at the start of the school year, you were actively participating and laughing your head off without constraint at the end. You get to know her more personally and you start to understand why she does things. Like how we all had a laugh when she gave Marvin BCDs for being late when she didn't let him carpool because it's not genteel for a woman to be riding with a man alone, nevermind that he's openly gay. All those involvement with university affairs means you have to spend more time with her too. Her office is not so bad anymore, it's even starting to feel homey. You finally greet her in the hallway with a most sincere "good morning, Ma'am!" and thank the heavens Ma'am Tuanda exists just the way she is. By graduation you've forgiven her for all the hard work she made you do during BCDs and thanking her for keeping you on your toes all throughout high school.
Personally, she's been more of a counselor to me than our appointed guidance counselor has ever been. We still see each other during college and see a little less of each other afterwards. But every time I feel like walking walking down memory lane, the path always leads me to the old, familiar student affairs office she shares with another of my favorite teacher. All those years we spent together and she'd still call me "Aleli" and ask how I'm doing and encourage me to do my masters.
Ma'am Tuanda, I've always looked forward to the day I could go back and finally tell you, I did it! And you'll be happy and proud of me just like you've always been. I guess I'll be saying it now in front of your grave, with flowers instead of chocolates for pasalubong. And you won't be able to tell me things like "oh, you broke up? That's okay, don't let it get you down too much" anymore in your trademark raspy voice, or "Aleli, nanambok man ka!" then serve me suman.
I know the legacy of your BCD will live on, but for the generations who went through IDS under your tutelage, we can definitely say, you have brought an entire era with you to your grave and things will be totally different now.
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