From a ‘Bar Boy,’ to other ‘Bar Boys’

By Joseph Bernard A. Marzan

At the time this piece would be published, the dust would start to settle on the results of the 2025 Bar Examinations. Passers may have posted on their social media handles, given media interviews, and the messages and comments of “congratulations” and “thank-yous” have been thrown around less.

The title of this column comes from the movie Bar Boys and its sequel Bar Boys: After School (BBAS), two movies that helped me define my journey through law school and eventually becoming a lawyer.

As a passer of the 2025 exams, the feeling is exhilarating—like you feel your bones and muscles heating up and tears welling in your eyes—because you finally get a sigh of relief and a good night’s sleep for the first time in a long time.

But at the same time, I, and many other passers and now-lawyers, can’t help but think of our friends and family who poured in the same, if not more, effort but weren’t fortunate enough to make the cut.

For me, this is my second try at the exam, and while I was happy for myself, I think about those who are now grappling with their own reality.

I was in that same place just more than a year ago, and for this piece, I share my story as a retaker.

This is for you, non-passers—including some of my friends—with the thought that you may find a little spark of hope in this and help you decide what to do next.

On the morning of Dec. 13, 2024, I was in the same place as many of you—eager, nervous, worried, agitated, discombobulated—or any other adjective you would use to describe that excited feeling of just wanting the waiting to end.

I was, as I describe myself, “extra,” so I took it upon myself to go to the Supreme Court in Ermita, Manila, just to see whether I had made the cut and also to plan to report back to my peers in Iloilo City, especially to schoolmates and teachers at the University of San Agustin.

How “extra” was I? I entertained interviews from media, from the Supreme Court documentation team, and from anyone who was just asking stuff. I was that complacent.

And when word came out that results were already available via the BARISTA portal, I opened my account, only to see that I had failed.

That year, the passing rate was lowered to 74 percent, and I managed to score 73.24 percent—0.76 percentage points shy of actually passing.

I looked around me and saw tears of joy, candidates calling their parents, fraternities doing their man-chants or whatever, and on the other side, there was me and some other takers who did not make the cut.

How did I feel then? I didn’t know, honestly.

In the sequence of BBAS when the results of their Bar exams came out, I absolutely related to Arvin (played by Will Ashley) at that moment.

Like Arvin, I knew I felt dejected. But I was also confused. Should I be sad for myself? Should I be happy for everyone else? What do I do next?

I just walked away from the Supreme Court feeling blank, avoiding everything and everyone, and just following advice from my teachers to take a rest.

While not knowing what I was feeling or what I wanted to do next, I did things to cope—watched the first Wicked movie, ate a lot of ice cream, went on a post-Christmas vacation with family, and other things.

I kept myself occupied. I felt less confused, and I was more sure that I wanted to try again.

I honestly thought that I would’ve been okay after that, but I wasn’t.

As Jan. 13, 2025—the oath-taking date for 2024 passers—inched closer, I felt more itchy. The feeling of “That could’ve been me” rammed my mind while I was trying to get myself together to study again.

That feeling of being left behind—because while a lot of people I knew for the last four (and more) years were putting on their garb and robes, I was contemplating which review center I would choose—made me feel uneasy.

I had nowhere to turn to, so I posted about it on X on Jan. 14, and it actually reached a lot of people—passers and non-passers alike, as well as more seasoned lawyers.

One of those lawyers was Erin Tañada, more known as a former deputy speaker of the House of Representatives and a nominee of the Mamamayang Liberal party-list at the time.

Without stating much of what we talked about, he briefly shared with me his story of passing the Bar on his third take and told me to allow myself to feel sad.

So that’s what I did.

On some nights, when the regrets, the grief, the disappointment came to mind, I dropped the books or notes, just lay in bed, and gave myself time to cry.

And that helped—a lot.

That’s where I realized what I lacked—the confidence to answer the exam questions.

While I was reviewing again, I also built myself up.

I focused on habits that built up my self-confidence, drowned out the noise, and put my issues with other people in the backseat.

I also started a habit of praying the rosary almost every day—something that wasn’t unfamiliar, having grown up in a moderately devout Catholic household, and attended Masses at the Parish of the Holy Sacrifice at UP Diliman, where I did my review when there was still time after lectures.

In that process, I learned that God gave me blessings every day, and by praying, I learned to see them in the people who supported me and in the events He has placed in my life.

So, in a way, trying again wasn’t simply just hitting the books again—it also meant making sure that I had the confidence to show up, having inner strength, and pushing through even when the circumstances weren’t aligned with my vision.

I didn’t finish the 2025 Bar syllabus, but I made sure that I was able to study the parts that I wasn’t able to answer in 2024—and thankfully, that bore fruit somehow.

To first-time takers, as I’ve said to my friends: Just feel your feelings. Take time and space to let it all out.

Above everything else—and more than assessing where you went wrong—it’s important to be with yourself, not to nurse your feelings, but to realize that there are other things in life more than lawyering.

My advice is just the same to the retakers who also didn’t make it through this round. You already know how it felt the first time. For many of you, it may feel worse than the last, so just feeling your feelings is definitely very important.

Whether you decide to take this year’s exams or just take a break, do what you think is best for you.

Go climb mountain peaks, take art classes, jog, walk, confess to your crushes—or anything else you want to do, do it. You still have free time to decide.

It took me two weeks to decide that I wanted to take the 2025 exams, but many of you might need a longer time to process and think about your choices. Don’t rush.

All the advice from anyone—including me—around you are just suggestions. Whatever you decide to do, and how you do it, is up to you. You know yourself better than anyone else.

You’ve endured four years and eight semesters (or more, in my case) just to be able to take the exams, and just by being there, you’ve already started your uphill climb to become actual lawyers.

Like retired Justice Bing Hernandez (played by Odette Khan) said in BBAS, “Missed opportunities will haunt you more than failures,” and that stuck with me.

If I had pushed through with my plan not to take the exams last September, I wouldn’t have passed, and I wouldn’t be writing this to you.

Whether or not we know each other, know that I will be rooting for you, and I will be waiting for you across the Bar.

So hang in there. Again, feel your feelings, and take time and space to decide what comes next.

Puhon.