October 7, 2012 | Kimmy’s Ringhop at Cebu Institute of Technology–University

There is something rather amusing about the way universities celebrate the approaching end of student life. After years of examinations, sleepless nights, unfinished requirements, and countless encounters with professors who seem to possess an exceptional talent for discovering what students have not studied, an institution eventually gathers everybody in a formal setting and presents them with a ring. A small piece of metal, apparently, is expected to represent several years of intellectual suffering, personal sacrifice, and the extraordinary amount of patience required to survive higher education. I find the arrangement quite charming, although I cannot help thinking that students might also appreciate a complimentary pillow, a good meal, and a certificate acknowledging the many hours of sleep they have surrendered in pursuit of their degrees.

On September 24, 2012, I had the pleasure of attending the ringhop ceremony of my cousin Kimmy, a fifth-year Civil Engineering student at Cebu Institute of Technology–University, or CIT-U. Kimmy is my second cousin on my mother’s side, and I was genuinely proud to be part of an occasion celebrating an important stage in her academic journey. Her mother had invited me to attend, and I gladly accepted. After all, there are invitations one must consider carefully, and then there are those involving family, a meaningful celebration, and the possibility of dressing up for photographs. I am afraid my enthusiasm for the latter has always been rather predictable.

A ringhop is a special occasion because the university ring represents more than an attractive accessory. It symbolises a student’s connection to an institution and the years of effort invested in pursuing a degree. For someone studying Civil Engineering, that journey involves demanding academic subjects, technical knowledge, and the responsibility of preparing for a profession whose work can eventually become part of the physical world around us. I have always admired people who can look at a complicated mathematical problem and approach it with confidence. My own relationship with numbers is considerably more diplomatic. I respect them, acknowledge their importance, and prefer that they remain cooperative whenever possible.

Kimmy, however, had chosen a field in which calculations, designs, measurements, and technical principles are essential. As a fifth-year student, she was already approaching an important stage of her university education, and receiving her CIT-U ring offered a meaningful way to recognise the progress she had made. It was an occasion worth celebrating, particularly for the family members who had watched her pursue her studies. I imagine there is a special satisfaction in seeing somebody you care about reach a milestone after years of effort, even when you have not personally witnessed every examination, project, or demanding afternoon that contributed to it.

I think ceremonies like this matter because much of academic life happens without applause. Students spend ordinary days attending classes, preparing assignments, completing requirements, and worrying about examinations. Their progress may be measured through grades and assessments, but the effort involved is often visible only to the people experiencing it. A formal celebration interrupts that routine and allows everyone to recognise how far they have come. The ring itself may be small, but the memories attached to it can become significant, especially when the student eventually looks back upon the years spent working towards graduation.

There was something particularly lovely about attending the occasion as a family member rather than as one of the students being honoured. For once, I could enjoy an academic celebration without worrying about whether somebody would unexpectedly distribute examination papers. I could admire the arrangements, appreciate the atmosphere, and concentrate upon the important business of supporting Kimmy. Of course, this also meant that I had sufficient freedom to become distracted by photographic opportunities, which may explain why our collection of pictures includes a healthy number of poses that have absolutely nothing to do with Civil Engineering.

The celebration followed a red, black, and white colour motif, a combination that gave the occasion a striking appearance. I have always liked how a simple arrangement of colours can create a sense of unity during an event. Red adds a little boldness, black brings a certain elegance, and white balances the two without competing for attention. Together, they provided a lovely setting for an evening celebrating academic achievement. Naturally, I also appreciated the photographic possibilities. There are events where the decorations seem to have been designed almost specifically for people who enjoy posing in front of a camera, and I was not about to neglect such an opportunity.

Kimmy looked beautiful during the celebration, and I was delighted to have photographs with her. There is something satisfying about seeing a relative dressed for an important occasion, particularly when the event marks an achievement connected to years of hard work. I hope she will look back upon these photographs with affection, remembering the excitement of being a fifth-year Civil Engineering student and the people who came to celebrate with her. University life can feel exhausting while one is living through it, but photographs from occasions like this may eventually remind us of the friendships, family support, and meaningful moments that accompanied the difficult parts.

I also spent time with Leika, Kimmy’s younger sister, whose company made the event even more entertaining. We took photographs together, including one of those deliberately serious poses that people attempt when they want to look sophisticated and important. I believe the original description of our pose was The Rigid, which is a wonderfully appropriate name for two people trying very hard to appear composed while probably being far more interested in having fun. I cannot claim that we achieved the elegance of professional models, but we certainly demonstrated the confidence of people who were not particularly concerned about what the surrounding guests might think.

I have always found it amusing how taking photographs can reveal entirely different versions of our personalities. Put somebody in front of a camera and ask them to smile naturally, and they may suddenly forget how their own face usually works. Their shoulders become stiff, their expression grows suspiciously deliberate, and the resulting photograph looks as though they have been instructed to remain perfectly still during an important government inspection. Ask the same person to make a ridiculous expression, however, and suddenly everything becomes easier. Perhaps that is why I enjoy wacky photographs so much. They require very little pretence, apart from the considerable effort sometimes involved in making oneself look deliberately foolish.

Our little collection of photographs from Kimmy’s ringhop certainly reflected that preference. There were the more formal pictures, which preserved the elegance of the occasion, and the amusing poses that made the evening feel more personal. I like having both because they capture different aspects of the same memory. A formal photograph reminds us of the event and the people who attended, while a funny picture often preserves something about the relationships between those people. Years later, we may appreciate the beautiful decorations, but we are equally likely to laugh at the expressions we considered appropriate when someone pointed a camera in our direction.

I have never understood why people expect every photograph from a formal occasion to demonstrate perfect seriousness. Certainly, important events deserve respect, and there is value in preserving a few dignified pictures for future generations. But I would also like those future generations to know that we were capable of enjoying ourselves. I imagine somebody discovering our ringhop photographs decades from now and attempting to understand why two young women were striking exaggerated poses during an engineering celebration. I hope they conclude that we were simply having a wonderful time, although I suspect the evidence may also suggest a certain lack of concern for conventional photographic behaviour.

There was also the inevitable opportunity for an Instagram-worthy photograph. I have always enjoyed experimenting with pictures, even when the background refuses to cooperate with the artistic vision I have developed in my imagination. Sometimes the subject looks lovely, the pose seems appropriate, and the surroundings contain an inconvenient detail that appears determined to attract more attention than the person being photographed. I have learned that photography involves compromise, especially when one is attending an actual event rather than directing a professional photo shoot. Fortunately, I possess enough enthusiasm to appreciate the result anyway. If the background becomes distracting, I simply remind myself that the important thing is the memory, although I may still complain affectionately about the composition afterwards.

Looking through the pictures, I find myself appreciating how naturally the evening became a mixture of celebration and ordinary family enjoyment. We had attended because Kimmy was receiving her university ring, but the occasion also gave us an opportunity to spend time together, dress up, laugh, and create photographs that would eventually become part of our collection of memories. I think that is one of the pleasures of family events. The official programme provides the reason for gathering, while the moments surrounding it often become equally memorable.

I am particularly fond of the fact that we were celebrating an educational achievement. Coming from a family where education is valued, I understand how much effort can be invested in helping someone pursue a degree. Studying requires commitment from the student, but it can also involve encouragement and practical support from the people around them. Every family has its own circumstances, and I do not want to assume that everyone’s experience of university is the same. Still, I think it is meaningful when relatives come together to recognise the progress somebody has made. It communicates that their efforts matter beyond the classroom.

As someone who pursued nursing, I understand the mixture of anticipation and anxiety that accompanies the later years of university. There comes a point when graduation begins to feel close enough to imagine, yet the remaining academic requirements continue demanding attention. We become excited about finally entering our chosen professions while recognising that another collection of responsibilities will follow. The prospect of employment, professional examinations, and life beyond university can make the future seem simultaneously promising and intimidating. I imagine Civil Engineering students experience their own version of that transition, complete with the technical demands and professional expectations associated with their field.

Perhaps that is why a ringhop feels different from an ordinary party. It celebrates a stage that belongs partly to the student’s academic experience and partly to the professional future they hope to enter. The ring does not mean that every challenge has been completed or that all future opportunities are guaranteed. It marks a meaningful point in the journey, acknowledging what has already been accomplished while recognising that more work may remain. I appreciate the symbolism because it allows a student to pause and celebrate without pretending that the entire story has already reached its conclusion.

I hope Kimmy enjoys wearing her CIT-U ring and remembering what it represents. There may come a day when she is occupied with professional responsibilities and the ordinary demands of adulthood, and the ring will remind her of her years as an engineering student. Perhaps it will bring back memories of examinations, classmates, demanding subjects, and occasions like this one when family members gathered to celebrate. Objects can become unexpectedly meaningful when they carry associations with a particular stage of life. A ring may be physically small, but the memories attached to it can extend far beyond the ceremony during which it was first worn.

I also hope she continues approaching her ambitions with determination and curiosity. Civil Engineering is a demanding profession, and the transition from university into professional practice will inevitably involve further learning. But I believe that the discipline developed through years of study can provide a useful foundation for the responsibilities ahead. I am proud of the progress she has made, and I look forward to seeing the opportunities she eventually pursues. There is something particularly satisfying about watching relatives grow into the people they have worked hard to become.

The evening also reminded me how quickly family relationships change as we grow older. There was a time when cousins were simply the people we played with during gatherings, sharing ordinary childhood experiences without giving much thought to the futures waiting ahead. Gradually, those same relatives become university students, professionals, parents, or people pursuing ambitions that require them to make important decisions. We begin attending one another’s graduations, celebrations, and other milestones, discovering that the familiar faces from childhood are developing lives and responsibilities of their own.

I find that transition both interesting and slightly amusing. We can watch someone participate in a formal academic ceremony, recognise how much they have accomplished, and still remember the ordinary childhood version of them who existed long before the university ring became part of the picture. Family members possess that unusual privilege. We know people through several versions of themselves, which can make even their most dignified achievements feel wonderfully personal.

Perhaps that is one of the reasons I enjoy attending family occasions whenever I can. We become increasingly busy with individual responsibilities, and there may be fewer opportunities to gather as freely as we once did. An invitation to celebrate somebody’s achievement provides a reason to step away from our routines and participate in an important moment of their life. I am grateful that Kimmy’s mother invited me, particularly because the event gave me another memory to share with my cousins. It would have been easy to regard the ringhop as simply another formal ceremony, but I am glad I attended and experienced it with them.

As I write about the event, I am also reminded of how much I enjoy preserving photographs from these little occasions. There are grand family milestones that everyone remembers, but smaller celebrations can gradually become less distinct as the years pass. A picture allows us to revisit the clothes we wore, the people who accompanied us, and the expressions we made when someone decided that another photograph was absolutely necessary. Even the imperfect pictures become interesting with time. Perhaps especially the imperfect ones, because they reveal something about how comfortably we behaved around the people beside us.

I suspect our future selves will find the wacky photographs particularly entertaining. Fashion changes, hairstyles evolve, and the poses that appear fashionable in one year may become wonderfully questionable in another. I have no doubt that someday I will examine these pictures and wonder why I considered certain expressions flattering. But I hope I resist the temptation to become embarrassed by them. They belong to a period when we were young, enthusiastic, and perfectly willing to make ourselves look ridiculous for a little entertainment. I think that is something worth preserving rather than correcting.

There is also a certain charm in remembering the occasion through its colours. Red, black, and white will probably remain connected to Kimmy’s ringhop in my memory, simply because the motif was such a distinctive feature of the event. Years from now, I may forget some of the smaller details of the programme, but I imagine the photographs will bring back the atmosphere of the celebration. I will remember being with Kimmy, taking amusing pictures with Leika, and enjoying the opportunity to support an important stage of my cousin’s university experience.

I sometimes wonder whether people realise how much their invitations can mean. Kimmy’s mother may have regarded inviting me as a simple gesture, a natural part of including relatives in a family celebration. But accepting that invitation allowed me to witness an important moment and become part of the memories associated with it. I appreciate being included in occasions like this because they remind me that family connections are maintained through participation. We cannot attend every event or remain constantly available, but when circumstances allow us to celebrate together, the experience can become more meaningful than we anticipated.

Looking back, the ringhop was an evening of contrasts. There was the formal recognition of academic progress, accompanied by the elegance expected of a special event. Alongside it were the cheerful, informal moments when Leika and I temporarily abandoned all interest in behaving like distinguished guests. I like that combination because it reflects the way important occasions often unfold in real life. We gather to honour something meaningful, but we also laugh, take photographs, exchange comments, and create memories that have little to do with the official programme.

I began this entry joking about universities presenting students with rings after years of academic effort. The idea still amuses me, particularly because I suspect most students would agree that a small piece of jewellery cannot fully represent the demands of completing a degree. Yet I understand the appeal of having something tangible to mark an important stage. Achievements are often made up of countless ordinary efforts that become difficult to remember individually. A ring provides a visible reminder of those years, allowing the wearer to associate a familiar object with the work, relationships, and aspirations that shaped their university experience.

Kimmy’s ring is hers, and the achievement it represents belongs to her. But I am glad our family was able to share in celebrating the moment. I hope she will remember the occasion fondly, particularly the support surrounding her as she continued towards completing her studies. She has worked towards a demanding field, and I am proud to see her approaching another milestone. I also hope she forgives us for contributing a few delightfully unserious photographs to an otherwise respectable celebration. I suspect she understands by now that inviting family members also means accepting the possibility of unpredictable behaviour near a camera.

As for Leika and me, I believe we fulfilled our responsibilities admirably. We attended, celebrated, took photographs, and provided enough entertaining poses to ensure that the evening would not be remembered exclusively through formal portraits. It seems like a perfectly respectable contribution from two relatives who were there to enjoy themselves. I may not understand every technical principle involved in Civil Engineering, but I certainly understand the importance of supporting somebody who has worked hard to pursue it.

Congratulations, Kimmy, on your ringhop at Cebu Institute of Technology–University. May your ring remind you of the effort you have invested in your education, the people who have encouraged you, and the ambitions still waiting to be pursued. I am proud of you, and I hope the coming chapters of your academic and professional life bring opportunities to use what you have learned in meaningful ways.

As for the photographs, I intend to keep them. One day, when we are older and perhaps considerably more serious about our responsibilities, I hope we can look back upon this evening and laugh at our poses without needing to explain why they seemed like excellent ideas at the time. The formal pictures will remind us of the ringhop, but the wacky ones will remind us of the people we were while celebrating it.

And perhaps that is the best thing about family milestones. Someone receives a ring, graduates, or begins a new chapter, while the rest of us become part of the little stories surrounding the occasion. We may not share the same degree or professional ambitions, but we can share the happiness of recognising an achievement and celebrating the person who has worked towards it.

For one September evening, Kimmy’s years of studying Civil Engineering were honoured through a special university tradition, while her cousins demonstrated that academic dignity and ridiculous photography can coexist quite comfortably. I suspect that is an arrangement even the most mathematically gifted engineer would struggle to improve.

September 24, 2012 | Kimmy’s Ringhop at Cebu Institute of Technology–University — Celebrating my cousin’s journey in Civil Engineering, with family, photographs, and a red-black-and-white evening worth remembering.

— Anj, proud cousin, enthusiastic photographer, and a firm believer that every formal ceremony deserves at least one photograph nobody can explain with a straight face.