Mahal kita, UP, 7 years na

“UP cutie!”

While numerous aspiring iskos and iskas repeat this ‘lucky’ phrase to manifest their acceptance in the university, the impoverished can only think of one sentence: Go big or go home.

Education is a staple in an individual’s vocational journey. To the marginalized, acquiring an occupation is a step leaning to a promising future where necessities are no longer scarce. A step closer to achieving a job is a step closer to uplifting one’s family from poverty. Yet, with an impoverished family’s limited resources to actually supply financial aid, some fail to secure a degree before even obtaining a job in the first place.  

With that, University of the Philippines’ no-tuition feature is a dream for industrious, diligent, and talented learners whose families cannot sustain the staggering tuition fees demanded by prestigious universities. Today, thousands of students from various ethnicities and regions will enter testing centers geared with their honed knowledge, No. 2 pencils, red attire, and lastly a dream: to become an ‘Iskolar ng Bayan.’ While the intensive hustle is expected, we realize that our pioneering University’s Admission Test is starting to resemble a survival of the fittest where to secure your slot is to deprive another of an undergraduate scholarship.

Filipino households have an average budget of ₱258,050 per year and approximately 51% of that budget or ₱131,605.50 is spent on education. Yet, if we were to compare that to the tuitions of prestigious schools such as Ateneo De Manila’s ₱287,022 per year, De La Salle’s ₱220,000-₱300,000 per year, and University of Santo Tomas’ ₱120,000-₱240,000 per year, these expenses have clearly surpassed the ₱131,605.50 that families allotted—even worse, it surpassed their entire budget as well.

While middle and high class students only view the University of the Philippines College Admission Test (UPCAT) as the nation’s most challenging entrance examination, students from low-income households view it as a lifeline where quality education will not be out of reach due to expensive tuition. These aforementioned learners do not have the luxury to opt for other high caliber schools in case they do not get in. They can only hope their best efforts are enough to impress UP.

Undeniably, the UPCAT is a lifeline and a bridge for the indigent. Yet, every acceptance season sparks online discourse regarding how UP fails to uphold its commitment in providing scholarships to poor individuals and accepting affluent ones instead. How can the underprivileged uplift their family from generational poverty if financial aid is directed to those who already have everything?

The aforementioned statistics stress how the financial landscape of poor families cannot support their talented children. It only makes sense to prioritize them. One may argue: to exempt affluent and intelligent students from admission to UP is to violate their right to education. Although everyone is entitled to quality education regardless of the social class, it is neither the affluent nor marginalized’s fault whether they are admitted or not. What is at fault is UP’s system that perpetuates inequality and spotlights the privileged. 

The true opponent of aspiring scholars is not the highly competitive environment surrounding the admission test but rather the facilities that cannot accommodate hundreds of students in a quota course, the amount of teachers who cannot cater to the number of students, and the high grade weighted average (GWA) cut-off for in-demand courses.

Thus, the education sector must allocate large amounts of funds to resolve the aforesaid dilemmas—to finally turn these shortcomings into the strengths of the University. When it comes to admitting students, it is not just providing them an undergraduate scholarship; rather, it is setting them up for a successful life, a high paying job, and a future free from financial worry. Admission is not just mail saying congratulations or thank you, but it is also a door that will shape the very generations to come.

Mahal kita, UP, 7 years na: a phrase more than just the adoration for the institution, but love for a new life free from financial trouble.