March 30, 2026
By Leocas Samoel O. Encarnacion
Cartoon by Jansen Miguel G. Macalindong
For the past few days, we’ve been swayed by countless names, each demanding our attention. It was as if a "spark" of candidates suddenly popped out of nowhere, while others shouted, “sumabay” with the flow—reminding us that election season is back, whether we like it or not. Every year, we sit in front of our screens, scrolling through faces and promises, tasked with choosing among candidates for each position in our Student Government Elections. And this Monday, March 30, it happens all over again. It’s not just a vote, but a little test of whether we can think for ourselves—or just follow the hype—and a chance to exercise the very Lourdesian values we carry in our hearts.
Student elections aren’t just a game. They are tiny practice grounds for the real world, where every choice carries weight. They teach us responsibility, discernment, and the courage to make decisions that matter. Choosing with integrity now nurtures the conscience that will guide us as voters in the future. That’s why it’s so important to decide based on facts, competence, and values—not who looks cool in posters, who’s trending, or who seems “goated.”
When we vote for class officers, we like to think we’re serious. The president should be smart, the secretary should have neat handwriting, and the treasurer should be good with numbers. But let’s be honest, emotions sneak in. That friend who makes you laugh, that candidate promising mobile phone privileges, haircut policy changes, or that familiar face who “seems nice” can cloud judgment. And before we know it, we’ve voted for charm over competence, popularity over principle, and we live with the consequences—until the next election rolls around to remind us how naive we were.
Having been both a voter and a candidate since grade school, I know the game well. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve voted for friends instead of the people who were actually ready to do the job—and I carried the lessons with me long after. Those experiences taught me to look beyond mere skills or charm. Today, I look for values. Does this candidate act like a true Lourdesian? Do they make responsible choices, acknowledge their limitations, and genuinely care about serving others, rather than just collecting likes for Instagram stories? These are the qualities that matter, and they are what distinguish a true Christian leader from someone who merely wants the title.
For the candidates, this is a gentle reminder: we are watching—not just while you campaign, but until you finish your term. And for the voters, this is a call to wake up. Don’t let feelings, hype, or friendship steer your choices. In the real world, politicians—or anyone running for office aren’t driven by the same impulses that define us. Their eyes are on one prize—winning. And to get it, some won’t hesitate to pull every string, stroke every ego, and exploit the emotions that make us tick the box. Understanding this is part of becoming a discerning voter, capable of seeing past the smoke and mirrors.
Some might say student elections are small, just fun, a popularity contest with candy on the side. But even these “tiny games” shape the community around us. They teach us how to judge character, how to recognize integrity, and how to decide when charm and hype collide with reality. Every vote is practice for the bigger decisions we’ll face one day. Every choice shapes not just leaders, but ourselves.
So today, don’t vote for who’s funny, who looks cool, or who shares memes in class. Vote for the person who will show up, man up, and serve with a heart. Leadership isn’t about being liked, it isn’t about trending, and it definitely isn’t about being “goated.” It’s about competence, integrity, and the courage to make the right choices even when our feelings scream otherwise. And while these elections may be for the school we love so well, the lessons we learn here—how to discern, how to weigh values over popularity, and how to vote with conscience—will stay with us. One day, it will no longer be for our classrooms or our campus, but for the country we are committed to, for the world we live in.