Category Archive for: kawomenan

In what world is Julian Ongpin a victim? Under what circumstances would a man born to privilege, to massive wealth, enough to fashion himself as “art patron” and “angel investor” at such a young age, in what world would he be a victim?

Found with the lifeless body of Bree Jonson in a hostel room they shared, a death surrounded by more questions than answers, any other person would be kept in detention—and rightfully so.

Found with 12.6 grams of cocaine in that room they shared, and testing positive for drugs, any other person would either be dead with a placard on his body labelling him as “nanlaban,” or be arrested for illegal possession and kept in a jail cell teeming with drug suspects.

Found on CCTV moving about the crime scene strangely—from disappearing to go to the fourth floor of the hostel, to getting a ladder to remove jalousies from the bathroom window of the hostel room, and then not going through that window, to finally disappearing into the room and only some time after calling on the hostel staff for help—any other person would have been treated, and tagged, and seen as a suspect.

Julian has elided all of this. He is not in detention—not for drug possession or for being a suspect in a questionable death. He is not being tracked by the authorities—at some point the police admitted they didn’t even know where he was (maybe in their house in Manila or Baguio, they said). According to the police report, he “continuously drank liquor” in the presence of the police—a disrespectful, arrogant move only the wealthiest among us would do.

And now charged with drug possession by no less than the Department of Justice—not the police, not the National Bureau of Investigation, but the DOJ—Julian has opinion columnists like Emil Jurado and Tony Lopez, writing about his alleged innocence. Two (old) men who obviously have no sense of gendered writing, and are revealing for all the world to see the kind of misogyny they believe in, are framing Julian’s innocence by trampling on Bree’s character.

As woman, as human. None of us should be having any of it.

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Ma’am Lilia #LQS

I’ve always considered myself lucky to have been in the State U in the late 90s to the 2000s, across an undergraduate degree and my MA, because it gave me the opportunity to have the best teachers in the humanities.

LQS was one of those teachers, and she didn’t just welcome me as a sophomore into a basic Filipino classroom, she also would have me in her MA classes the years before she left for the States. I don’t remember much about what those classes were exactly, as much as I have a keen sense of what it was that I learned in them, beyond readings and syllabi, given the kind of teaching she practiced.

It was in that sophomore Filipino classroom, for example, where I had the best lessons in diversity and unity, history and empathy. It was there that I became friends with Anifa, who was the lone Muslim girl in class, and who LQS grouped me with for final projects. This meant being forced into discussions about Muslim Mindanao and the struggle of the Bangsamoro, with the goal of building upon similarities, toward working on truths borne of the multiplicity of voices. I was in over my head. I realized very quickly that there was no cramming all this information about Mindanao into my head, and that I had to settle for admitting that I knew very little, and what I had instead were questions. It was also the first time I had a sense of risk and privilege. Where I realized that a conversation such as this one meant so much to Anifa, whose life, history, heritage were on the line, while it did not, in any way, affect the way in which mine would unfold.

At some point before that final project’s presentation, I told LQS that I felt it was important that Anifa be the one to lead the discussions, and she nodded. Like I had learned the lesson she meant for me to discover for myself. Read the room. Let others speak. Admit your limitations. Be an ally. Know your place. (more…)

Hate and lies don’t stop in a time of a pandemic—we are after all under a government that lives off this kind of propaganda. But when it comes from regular people who deserve respect for fighting for the poor and oppressed, the farmers and the peasants and the workers, you can only be taken aback, to say the least. That they would even take the time to fashion you as enemy, throw shade in your direction, especially on social media comment threads where discrediting a person is quick and easy, here and now, well, there is a time of reckoning for that.

This is not that time, but it is the time for some clarification. So let me take precious energy to talk about the accusation that I “defended a rapist” last year. A controversial, sensationalist statement to make, a juicy piece of news to hear about the person who wrote a review of Ang Huling El Bimbo in 2018, and questioned its handling of the rape of the lead character Joy; the same person who likes to see herself as a feminist, who writes about being woman in this country, who builds upon the kawomenan of many others. But of course via people like artist and peasant advocate Donna Miranda, what will surface is nothing at all about what I’ve written, or the play in question. Instead it will be this statement from her: “Gusto ko man basahin ang review na yan nahihirapan ako bilang nagtanggol ng rapist yung manunulat a year after.”

What a way to take down a person: throw a one-liner, attack her, try to ruin her credibility. Who cares if it’s true?

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If there’s anything we might all agree on in relation to how the Duterte government operates, it’s that it has taken spin and distractions, smoke and mirrors, to a whole different level. Sometimes it’s like they’re throwing in the kitchen sink for good measure, often enough there’s some sacrificial lamb.

It is of course the President’s big mouth which does the best job of disengaging us from what matters. Take all those instances when we should be talking about something important like the killing of farmers and peasants, the failed drug war, inflation, the excise tax on oil, China’s takeover of our seas, the entry of an unbelievable number of Chinese migrant workers, the militarization of government, and count the number of times instead that the president decides to drop a misogynistic statement here, or an expletive there directed at (a) the Church, (b) activists, (c) the poor, (d) human rights advocates and organizations, (e) “terrorists” (f) critics (g) all of the above.

Which is to say that at a time like this when we have so much on our plate of things to think about given the aforementioned urgent issues, it is also pretty clear that this government, along with its puppet (or puppeteer) Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, is banking on precisely these overwhelming, exhausting times so they can continue with their ChaCha moves.  (more…)

Nora Aunor, National Artist

Note: The list of 2018 National Artists are awaiting proclamation by Malacañang, so here’s an essay from 2014, a reminder, a throwback, an insistence still, that Nora Aunor deserves it. She deserved it in 2014, she deserves it now. —  KSS. 

In the middle of writing today’s column, sad sad news stopped me in my tracks. Nora Aunor is not included in tonight’s announced National Artist Presidential proclamations.

And while I’m glad that Alice Reyes (Dance), Francisco Coching (Visual Arts), Francisco Feliciano (Music), Ramon Santos (Music), Cirilo Bautista (Literature), and Jose Ma. Zaragoza (Architecture) have finally been proclaimed National Artists, there is a real sadness about not seeing Ate Guy on that list.

It’s because this exclusion tells of how government treats culture in this country, and what exactly it holds in such high regard relative to actual creativity and artistry. (more…)