In the same year of the visual-aide-ripping-incident, I had improved by leaps and bounds. By the time October rolled in, I was actually asked by Teacher Cynthia to help with making the school paper. To me, who was still pretty new to journalism unlike some of my classmates and our upperclassmen, it was such a great honor. I was one of the few in the program, that got the chance to write around five articles across the News, Feature, and Science pages. I wasn't even bothered by the fact that we had spent the entire seven-days semester break in school, finishing the paper.

On the last day of the semester break, I along with six of my classmates who helped with the school paper, were called by Teacher Cynthia. I remember sitting on an old crumbling chair in another small classroom that served us our temporary publication office. I think I was eating a boiled egg or pancit, when our teacher told us the news that opened doors for us.

In recognition for the dedicated work we had done for the school paper, we were given the chance to be part of our school's first ever Collaborative Desktop Publishing team and compete in the division press conference.

I remember how I had paused chewing the food I was eating. I also remember the open mouths of my friends, and the fountain of questions that left the said open-mouths right after. We thought it through for the next few days. After a few debates and talks, we had decided to accept. It was a great opportunity for us to see how far we had improved, and also bring honor to the school in the way we know how.

In fact, we were right. We did get to show people our skills, develop ourselves, and bring honor to the school. In that year, we won third place in the division competition. In the following year, we snatched second place. And in our final year, we were declared champion and was given the opportunity to compete in the regionals.

I guess through the recognition we were given for our work, I got attached to writing. I had even more reasons to improve my skill, and plus, it made me and the people around me happy.

Even though my love for writing gradually grew, I can honestly (and shamefully) admit, that I had loved the recognition and the happiness I got from writing even more than the craft itself.

Also, somewhere in the back of my mind, I had thought that maybe journalism wasn't the only kind of writing for me.