26/07/2025
The quiet code in Grandemir B. Baysa-Pee’s steady ascent to summa cm laude
By Mia Magdalena Fokno
When Grandemir B. Baysa-Pee stood before the UP Baguio graduating class of 2025 as their chosen class representative, he made a quiet but powerful declaration: “I stand before you not as someone who stood out, but as someone who showed up every day and did his best.” It was not your typical story of heroic struggle or dramatic success. And that’s exactly what made it resonate.
In a world obsessed with virality, Grandemir’s story is a reminder that quiet consistency still counts. There were no medals from international competitions, no high-profile leadership roles. Just a young man, logging in to his remote classes, attending lectures while lying down, quietly bonding with campus cats during breaks, and doing the work, even when it felt meaningless.
As it turns out, Grandemir was doing more than just showing up. He was quietly excelling. By the time he reached his final year, he was one of only two students in the entire graduating class to earn the distinction of summa cm laude. And though he was chosen to deliver the commencement address, it was never about recognition for him. “I was simply doing my best because it was what was expected of me: not perfect grades, but effort.”
“Honestly, when I applied to UP, I was more fluent in Python than in Filipino. I’m not even sure I would’ve passed the UPCAT if it hadn’t been cancelled. Now, I’m not sure what would be more funny: that the entrance exam might have blocked someone who would end up graduating summa cm laude, or that someone graduating summa might have failed the entrance exam.”
He had only applied to one campus, UP Baguio, because it was close to home and, in his words, “in the best city in the Philippines.”
Grandemir began his college life during the pandemic, studying remotely and comfortably from home. He had been partially homeschooled in elementary school, which helped him become adept at independent learning. College, at first, seemed like a technical requirement, a step toward employment, something to brute-force his way through. But somewhere along the way, that mindset shifted.
“This is like thinking an event bus is a useless detour for a function call. In actuality, college, like an event bus, is a useful bridge that helps everything fit together.”
That shift turned him from a results-driven coder into a more intentional learner. “I eventually learned to make the most of my time by trying to learn from everything and everyone, even from the subjects and ideas that seemed unnecessary. This shift made the experience feel more intentional and worthwhile.”
Still, not everything got easier. When face-to-face classes resumed, he struggled. “I was miserable the entire semester. Mostly, I felt lonely, especially being around so many people.” He found solace in the quiet company of a campus cat named Tonton. “At the time, that was me,” he said, referring to those who needed emotional support. (Tonton, a beloved presence in UP Baguio, has since passed away. A loss felt by the campus community.)
By third year, he had settled into routine, just in time to realize he was on track for Latin honors. That knowledge, far from being motivating, became a source of pressure. “Thoughts of actually achieving the highest honors would sneak in. Harmless as they seemed, these background threads were eating up valuable processing power and causing pressure and stress.”
An important lesson from this period came, humorously, from the world of gaming. “An important lesson from this time is best summarized by a pro-Dota 2 player’s quote: ‘Stop thinking about winning! Focus on this game.’” (He clarifies that he doesn’t play Dota 2. The quote was shared by a friend.)
That focus became especially important in his final semester. He and his partner, Andre Bagalso, were assigned their Special Problem. UP Baguio Computer Science’s version of a thesis. “I hadn’t taken any mid-year classes to reduce my load, since I was working on personal programming projects. So, having to balance several other subjects and compete for limited consultation slots, I had to apply a lesson learned from many past mistakes and failed projects: scope control.”
“We chose a fairly simple topic, genetic programming, and focused on doing it well. It wasn’t flashy, but it was well-executed, and we ended up finishing early. Nothing glamorous there. After all, there’s no point falling at the finish line trying to do a cartwheel.”
How he handled that final requirement sums up his entire college experience: “There’s nothing particularly extraordinary or inspirational to highlight. It’s just a lot of quiet work done to the best of my ability. It was an attempt at excellence in the most mundane places.”
That’s not to say it was smooth sailing. “Many times, I had to accept that effort doesn’t guarantee results, especially with GEs that tested topics far removed from my strengths. At times, it felt like a massive waste, spending days revising essays and weeks reviewing for exams, just to do worse than I expected.”
Still, Grandemir kept going. “In line with Ecclesiastes 5:18, I kept reminding myself, ‘This is my lot.’ Although this may sound like some Sisyphean existence, to me, the verse added something important: that my life and my lot, including the pressure to ‘excel,’ were given by God who loves us. Hence, there was meaning in pouring all those extra hours into every output. It had meaning, and so it was worth doing, and so I found joy in it, and so I kept doing it, and so now I’m here.”
To future students quietly doing their best, he offers this distilled wisdom: “Find a reason for why you’re doing your best, why you’re pouring hours into what you do… Everything becomes easier with the ability to find joy in the ‘toil,’ meaning in the effort itself, and purpose in the pursuit of excellence rather than just the thought of attaining it.”
Post-graduation, Grandemir plans to work in the tech industry before pursuing graduate studies. “It’s been 18 years of studying,” he said. “I think I need a break from academics, which I intend to take by working in the industry. Then I plan on pursuing my graduate studies part-time, perhaps after a year.”
He doesn’t see his journey as a spectacular feat, but a faithful one. “You don’t have to prove anything,” he says to his younger self. “Find a reason for the work itself, something more than just the results.”
And as the applause settled and the graduation rites drew to a close, he left his fellow graduates with one wish: “May we stand not just tall, but steady — like the Cordillera mountains.”
