When a person wins something, they usually feel joy, pride, or relief—as if a weight has been lifted off their shoulders. But when the top 10  rankings among CEIS graduates finally met his eyes, he felt none of those things.

 Instead, Santiago P. Carranza felt like a thief. 

“During this time, I could not help but feel sorry and guilty, as I felt that I robbed them of their dreams.” The grade 12 HUMSS valedictorian, who was supposed to feel thankful and honored, felt that the medal was never truly his to keep. It felt borrowed from students who fought harder battles than he ever did. 

Santiago arrived at CEIS carrying a backpack full of unfamiliarity. Coming from a public institution, it was like entering a world far removed from what he had known. He noticed it most in the air-conditioned classrooms, structured schedules, and the presence of passionate educators. For someone who already felt out of place, the thought of someday standing above everyone else never seemed imaginable. 

Yet, Santiago kept showing up; he didn’t really confine himself to academics but dared to try new things that once felt unfamiliar to him.  One of his earlier attempts was an audition for Suprema, which didn’t go the way he imagined. “Maybe pang-TikTok lang ako,” as he would later say, but it taught him humility and self-awareness. He also applied for the Escolarian, though he was unable to complete it due to academic demands. After a series of attempts, he eventually found a home in Alakdan.

With every step, Santiago learned to occupy the spaces he once hesitated to enter, from joining Mr. United Nations 2024 to hosting events like Sinelaysay and Buwan ng Wika 2025. There, Santiago began to understand that his curiosity had direction and was shaping a voice that learned how to speak not just for himself, but for others around him.

For someone who believed he did not deserve recognition, Santiago spent much of his senior high school years earning it. Being Rank 1 was never his intention; it simply found itself in the palm of his hands. Yet despite all these accomplishments, Santiago still struggled to accept the title attached to his name. 

Was Santiago truly a thief? Or was he simply someone who carried too much empathy for others? Perhaps Santiago was never a thief at all, just a student who struggled to believe he deserved what he worked hard for. 

Perhaps the real thief was Santiago’s own empathy for others. Because the moment he received the announcement, it stole the opportunity for true celebration within him.  “Kailanma'y hindi ako naging kasing-sipag, talino, o nakaranas ng hirap na araw-araw nilang kinakalaban. Kada araw na kaharap ko sila—patuloy akong nalason ng konsensiya, pagdududa, at karamdamang kailanma'y hindi ko maipapaliwanag.” He couldn’t bear the thought that other graduates had aimed higher, having all the odds stacked against them.

Yet amid his self-doubt, even the smallest “congratulations!” from his friends and batchmates, along with words of advice from teachers, gave him a sense of warmth and clarity he had nearly forgotten.

There, a realization emerged: “I truly realized that being Rank 1 wasn't about standing above my batchmates, but about standing at the front to make sure all our voices were heard.” 

In the end, a thief is an individual who takes and doesn’t give back. But Santiago never stole anyone’s dreams—he merely carried the heavy burden of believing he did.