A Peaceful escape at Batyawan Farm

  Dear Future me, I am writing this letter for you on the days when you feel confused, tired, or unsure about the path you chose. If criminology wasn’t for me, I hope you will not be disappointed in yourself. I hope you will be gentle. I hope you will understand that sometimes, dreams change—not because we are weak, but because we are finally honest with what our heart truly wants. If that course wasn't for you please guide yourself to become a successful teacher. Teach yourself to be brave again. Teach yourself to start over. Teach yourself to believe that you are still capable of building a beautiful future. Guide yourself to a classroom where you can help students who feel lost, shy, or afraid—because you once felt that way too. Be the teacher who listens, who encourages, and who never gives up on a student easily. Be patient with your learners, and also be patient with yourself. If criminology was not meant for you, then let teaching be your new purpose. Let your voice become s...

     Our volleyball team’s story began on the simple court in front of the Grade 7 building, where laughter mixed with the sound of the ball hitting the floor. At first, we were just classmates trying to learn the basics, but through daily practice, early mornings, and tired legs, we slowly became a real team. Hard work taught us discipline, but friendship taught us how to support one another. We learned how to listen, how to encourage a teammate who made a mistake, and how to celebrate even the smallest improvement. Every drill, every shared water break, and every joke after practice became part of the happy memories we will always carry.      What made our journey special was not only the training, but the bonds we built along the way. We became more than teammates—we became friends who trusted each other inside and outside the court. We shared stories, stress from school, and dreams for the future, and somehow volleyball became our safe place. No matter ...