Your fire never died when it didn’t reach NSPC

When ink first kissed the breadth of these pages, a fire came alive. In the awakening of this flame, a journey quietly begins.

Once gentle and meek, the ember slowly grows. It trails on the paragraphs left behind in contest halls, catching up to the flow of a ballpoint pen; there, a writer is written alive. ink, graphite, echoes—all ignite into a roaring blaze. One that is not snuffed by loss. One that thrives on the precipice of victory.

This fire consumes you. It drives you to greater heights, brighter lights, and bigger fights. Yet beyond honor and competition, it teaches you tenacity. To take a hold on your dreams as tightly as you grip your tools. It guides you to a truth. That you are meant to illuminate lives beyond the glint of a medal. 

As time passes, you may find an illusion. That some fires are meant to burn brighter. That only a select few are destined for their voice to echo. That the glory and calling of campus journalism is restricted by a matter of who garnered the most points and who gained the most certificates. This was never the truth.

Para sa Team Bahay this NSPC season: the lives lit by your fire are not something that can be measured by a mere score sheet. The people you inspired, the stories you unchained, and the flame that you kindled carry the spirit of campus journalism far greater than any accolade there is. The score is never the story. For the greatest measure of a scribe is the empathy and empowerment of the stories around you.

Your journey did not stop when you didn’t reach the nationals. Your flame was not any less bright when you were points away from the podium. Your story matters as much as it did when your ink first met paper. And in a cruel, corrupt, and callous world, your voice is the fearless light that conquers darkness.

So to the campus journalists who thought that they failed to make it—let your ink and determination meet the breadth of these pages once more. Your spark will soon follow the traces of your tenacity. 

Your fire never died. You just have to remember to write with it again.