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radikalchick.lit

Confessing Selves: Notes on the road to realizing self-centered lives

published in PCIJ i-report, the investigative reporting quarterly, of the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism, Issue no. 6, Oct 2006
http://www.pcij.org/i-report/2006/blogging.html

Saturday, August 19 2006
Endings…

I have a confession to make: I used to have a blog. It is one that I have since become ashamed of, but can’t quite figure out how to delete. The shame comes from the force that drove me to even start it: a broken heart. And since that has ceased to exist, there is a need to delete proof that it ever did.

But more than what brought the blog on, it’s what it ultimately became that I find shameful: a sorry excuse for recovery and moving on, and in the process, proof of self-centeredness.

Few people know of that blog, and yet I fear that at some point I will be revealed as that forlorn girl all too willing to wear my heart on my sleeve for the entire (internet) world to see. A girl who could only exist within her tiny little world of pain, in the midst of this sad suffering country.

Monday, August 21 2006
… and Beginnings: Why Blog?

While I realized long ago that my blog was a poor excuse for productivity at a time when there was a dire lack of it, I have yet to lose my liking for reading other people’s blogs – from friends to those of near-strangers. It’s brought on by whatever you might think: voyeurism maybe? Curiosity, most probably. The possibility of finding gold on a bad bad day, usually. Gold is found when I am made to realize that I can’t be worse off than that near-stranger who reveals that her issue of the week has been how to fix her unmanageable hair.

Self-gratification, I find, is the name of the game as far as blogs in this country are concerned. Writing is after all a very personal thing. And using it to alleviate anxiety and anger, to celebrate happiness and excitement, is as old as the act itself of sitting down and gathering one’s thoughts.

There was a time of course when we wrote about our lives in diaries and journals, keeping them hidden from the rest of the world, and keeping the unsaid just that: not worthy of articulation, or just too sensitive an issue to be articulated. In writing a diary under lock and key, it is the release of emotion that is the point; and it becomes the only goal. That many will say writing has allowed them to survive, or that articulation was all they needed to move on and recover from an event in their lives, has become cliché.

Now imagine this: to the act of journal writing, add a blank unspeaking computer screen, an invisible audience, and the freedom to be anonymous. What have you got? Confessions made public. The internet, through the weblog or blog, has allowed for this to happen, giving anyone who has an internet connection and the leisure to sit in front of a computer the tools to vent out frustration, release pent-up energy, and scream the unspoken. The World Wide Web after all, is about the right to our freedoms: of information, of speech, of expression. And the blog is but one internet genre that allows its users to exercise – and have access to – these rights.

That is ultimately what makes blogging a most liberating thing.

Thursday, August 24 2006
What is True…

What is it about blogging that appeals to so many of us? Letting it all hang out in public is the strangest of things, and I continue to be dumbfounded at some bloggers’ utter disregard for an audience that might read them. At the same time, does the internet qualify as “the public”? Does having a blog, ultimately mean having an audience?

It is difficult to imagine a confessional blogger whose reason for writing is the possibility of readership. When the treatment of the genre is that of a diary, then that audience is in fact irrelevant. In truth, given the vastness of the web it is impossible as well to expect an audience. What can be expected is a fixed set of readers mostly made up of friends and acquaintances who are interested enough in what a certain blogger-friend may have to say – even if it’s only about the last movie she saw or that crazy coincidence of meeting an ex-boyfriend.

In the academic and literary world I move around in, blogs are linked to each other, authors are known, and coming full circle is quick and easy. The six degrees of separation may be cut down to three or four, and it’s no surprise. We after all keep to the circles that are familiar, within and beyond the internet. That this one is not only quite small, but also quite forgiving, is indicative of the kind of literary and academic world we have in this country. Everyone is doing exactly the same thing, and no one is about to pinpoint the fact of say, being apolitical, or being too self-centered.

Forgiveness in fact, seems to be beside the point. And criticism is obviously uncalled for. Given the confessional blog, it is difficult to even comment on the things that people concern themselves with, mundane as these things usually are. Confessions, while now on the internet, are still pretty limited to very personal things – from family to work, art and craft, new shoes and what-not. And it is in this espousal of the personal that the confessional blog escapes criticism.

As reader and observer, as voyeur if you will, my existence is irrelevant to these blogs. These existed before I started reading them, and they will continue to be produced beyond my prying eyes. I am ultimately part of that invisible audience – the internet public – that can exercise its freedom to stop reading any of these confessions if I think they’re a waste of my time.

That’s the truth.

Saturday, August 26 2006
… and False

I’ve been told often enough that anonymity is a cop out: if there’s something that needs to be said, that person who speaks must have a name. Anyone who remains anonymous does not deserve a decent response or an audience. But on the internet – particularly in blogs – this discussion is subsumed by an even touchier topic: the visible writer. Those who identify themselves to an audience who are, within the blog, disallowed from doing criticism because they will be told: this is my blog, don’t tell me what I can or cannot write about.

This is a subversion of the writing-reading process altogether: the writer cannot be held accountable for what has been said, nor is there a responsibility to the reader that must be upheld.

But self-centered as these discussions on the author are, what this in fact glosses over is the fact of what is important. Is it about who’s talking? Or is it about what’s being said? The struggle with anonymity only really happens when there is an issue that needs to be talked about, and those involved assert ascendancy by saying they will not argue with a penname. And yet, we celebrate writers who had to write with pennames to distinctly pinpoint one type of work over another like Quijano de Manila (National Artist Nick Joaquin); and those who needed to use pennames in order to get published like the woman writers of old. Anonymity does not put into question the issues that are being raised; the other side of that coin in fact asserts that the lack of a known and named author allows for the issue to be highlighted over and above its personalities.

The author is dead we are told. And this, the blog teaches us well. What we are left with then, is the blog as text which can be viewed over and above the author that speaks within it, and which ultimately allows for criticism. What does the confessional blog’s content prove about its writer? What is the context of the confession? How do we even begin to deal with something as personal as the confessional blog?

Well, apparently we don’t.

Sunday, August 27 2006
The Uncanny

There is a two-mindedness to writing a blog.

We want to remain anonymous to many, to bask in the glory of unlimited and limitless space where we may speak without worries. The liberation we experience through the process of writing and maintaining a blog, is without a doubt unparalleled. There is no audience we are answerable to, no censors we must keep in mind – and particularly for the anonymous and confessional blogs – no backlash. Nothing we say can be taken against us; the blogs we own are no one else’s but ours.

And yet, the act of writing itself requires an audience, invisible as it may be on the internet – imagined as it is in our heads. To sit, and write, and “publish” as we’ve done surreptitiously through the blogs is to assume that there is something special in what we have to say, that there is something unique in our articulation, that there is an amount of importance in those words. And that this confession will find resonance in someone from that internet public which we refuse to acknowledge.

The confession as an end in itself is only true for that time when diaries were under lock and key, and everything said was mere articulation – not a publication. The blog has allowed for the private confession to move to a public realm. And in that mere movement, there is no escape from criticism. Or interrogation.

The blog is and must be viewed as text – one that is not safely tucked into the discourse of the private and personal, pretending to be oblivious to audience, while unconsciously demanding it. The blog can be interrogated on the level of its personal assertions, particularly in the context of a country that requires vigilance and involvement, currency and social consciousness. When there are so many pressing issues of the day, what is the relevance of worrying about the way our hair looks?

Within the blog is power derived from the mere articulation of lives, yes. But towards what end?

Thursday, September 14 2006
The Unhappy

Elsewhere in the world, in China, governments fear blogs and close them down; in the U.S., many blogs have been monitored since 9/11. While that is an impingement on human rights, it is also proof of how something so personal is political. And how blogs can change minds, and the world beyond it, precisely because the freedom within it allows for more than just the confessional.

While it’s easy to generalize about my generation’s entrapment in the confessional blog, many have in fact started to use this form to consciously assert the personal as political. While speaking of issues that seem to be self-centered as well – experiences of a flash flood, an academic encounter, a rally – these blog authors are able to shift from the personal to that which dictates this mere articulation: the political.

None of what we say is only release, nothing is free from criticism, and no one is free from interrogation. The moment a blog is published it involves itself in the discourse of writing in this country, one that is to begin with wrought with the discourse of the personal and political, and the refusal to admit that they are inextricably tied.

But these bloggers of my generation are few and far between. And that is the saddest thing.

Friday, September 15 2006
Another Ending.

I wonder sometimes, what was that girl like who thought productivity meant consistently updating her blog? Who thought her own suffering was the most important thing? Who lived in her head and though that she was all important? Who could justify her self-centered concerns and confessions by the fact of her broken heart?

And then I think: that was a girl whose politics became the personal, and whose life was being defined by emotion. That was a girl who had nothing better to do, and who wasted time and money to heal herself through the blog, as if articulation was all that she needed, as if a broken-heart was a matter of life and death.

At that time the self, my self, was all I had going for me; and it was that inch of the internet that my blog occupied – anonymous as it was – that told me I existed and I was fine; that allowed me to live in a tiny little world where only I mattered. That this was also the time when activists started being killed and disappearing, when the Philippines sank deeper into poverty by the day, was irrelevant and unimportant.

Then, I didn’t deserve to have the freedom of the internet and the skill of writing in my hands.

Now that’s a girl – and her blog – worth deleting.

komentaryo

Where Has All the Laughter Gone?

published in PCIJ i-Report, the investigative reporting quarterly, of the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism, Issue no. 4, November 2005

FIVE YEARS ago, we had a president who made as much fun of himself as everyone else did. He even had his very own joke book and his very own think tank to make up stories and jokes that revolved around his supposedly being uneducated, as well as his being uncouth and unpresidential. Then came his impeachment trial, which provided us with all kinds of material for comedy.

At that time, everyone was fair game for parodies and jokes that came fast and furious in the form of text messages and email, standup routines, and comic strips. There was no escape. But since the Internet was and is the most liberal and liberating of media to work with—uncensorable, untouchable, maybe even incomprehensible to many—so much was published from the computers of hi-tech Pinoys who could deal with the Estrada presidency only by consistently putting down the man, his cohorts, and all those who voted for him. So much so that when PCIJ’s Alecks Pabico sat down to write “Pinoy Parody Online” (http://www.pcij.org/imag/Online/pinoyparody.html) then, a veritable mine of websites that poked fun at President Joseph ‘Erap’ Estrada was there waiting for him.

A failed Edsa 3 and a junked impeachment complaint against Estrada’s successor later, most of those sites that Pabico featured—even writer Bob Ong’s website (http://www.bobongpinoy.com)—are dead links (pun intended). And one can’t help but wonder why.

It cannot be that there’s nothing to laugh about at this point, can it? If all things humorous are really based on grains of reality, then laughter should not, and need not, end. The funnies can only survive. For sure, we continue to receive and forward funny text messages and emails of jokes, editorial cartoons, and comic strips from the print media that delve into the state of this GMA-Garci nation. And yet, as we reel from one political punch after another, there are hardly any good punchlines echoing from cyberspace.

This is not to say that nothing political is being written online. There are tons of complaints, many bordering on anger. But instead of sites dedicated to parodying or satirizing the daily events that should concern us, what’s proliferating are weblogs or blogs—online diaries that can be on anything and everything, with no pretensions to objectivity or truth, but with illusions of an audience that will want to read through text upon text of opinion, rants, and raves.

THERE ARE, of course, bloggers who have used the form well, basically because they know what they want it to be about—politics, for example, as with Luis Teodoro (www.luisteodoro.com) and http:///www.piercingpens.tk/; or Pinoy pop culture, as with Paolo Manalo (in the old www.psychicpants.net and the spanking new http://www.livejournal.com/~paolomanalo). These sites also seem to have a clear sense of an audience, limited though it may be. Manalo’s blog(s) in particular, is funny, not just because of its chosen concern, but because it is lightly and cleverly written. But it rarely talks about politics.

In contrast, there are blogs that are overtly political, such as www.angasngkurimaw.blogspot.com and www.ourthoughtsarefree.blogspot.com. But perhaps because of the seriousness with which politics do need to be dealt with, there’s rarely anything to laugh about in these political blogs. Often the funny blogs are nonpolitical, if not altogether apolitical. There’s the http://akosipaeng.blogspot.com/ blog by a Pinoy who seems to always write about his world as if he’s seeing it for the first time; and there are those blogs like www.tabulas.com/~apester that has always been fun easy reading, but talks about nothing else other than food in its recent reincarnation.

It is these types of Pinoy blogs that are more personal diaries than political commentary, more this-is-my-life than this-is-the-state-of-the-nation, which have made up much of our Internet production in recent years. In this sense, while the blog has been celebrated as something that can function as an alternative source of information (the PCIJ has its own blog, for example), it has for the most part been used by Pinoy techies as a form through which they may write without limits, even when they really have nothing much to say. It has even become the rule rather than the exception to be apolitical and apathetic in the blogs we create.

A personal blog like www.professionalheckler.blogcity.com is a rare exception in that it ridicules the political state of the nation by poking fun at its personalities—akin to Erap’s time. More known for his spoofs of political speeches, blogger Loi Reyes Landicho calls the site a humor blog born of his agitation over recent political events, which to him make for “desperate times that require desperate measures.” Yet because of the form that it takes, what Landicho really offers the blog reader is mostly a hodgepodge of thoughts on various issues and events that may be political (why is there no outrage over the junked impeachment complaint?) but are not always so (why didn’t UP win in a recent pep squad competition?).

Still, Landicho can be funny, especially with her Top 10 lists a la David Letterman. Just on September 23, he posted the “Top 10 (Silliest) Reasons Why GMA Won’t Resign”:

  1. Unlike the Ejercitos, her family does not own a posh villa in Tanay, Rizal. In the event that she goes to jail, she would languish at Camp Capinpin, deprived of the same luxury being enjoyed by her predecessor.
  2. She would never allow some guy named Manuel ‘Noli’ de Castro, a graduate of some school known as UE to take over the presidency. She did not spend years at Assumption, Ateneo, UP, and Georgetown only to give way to a UE graduate! [Taas-kilay to the 9th degree…hmmpf!]
  3. Resigning would enrage her god whom she claims to be on her side and who makes everything possible for her. Remember her father’s dictum that has become her
    favorite cliché? “Do what issh right. Do your bessht and God will take care of the ressht.” Whatever.
  4. Luck is still on her side. [As I discussed here before, she is fated to become president.] Filipinos have more important things to do than join rallies. Despite unfavorable SWS, Pulse Asia, and Ibon Foundation surveys showing unprecedented public dissatisfaction and distrust, fact is, these are just figures. People would rather feed their families than burn effigies.
  5. GMA won’t step down unless Cong. Mike Arroyo wins an acting plum. His latest movie, “Sablay Na, Pasaway Pa” [which had its premiere in Biliran province
    sometime in June] has yet to be shown in Metro Manila theatres. Reports say bookers decline to release the cheap flick for obvious reasons.
  6. She will only relinquish her post as soon as the Philippines has overtaken Indonesia in the Asian corruption index ranking. We’re still at number 2. Becoming number 1 would be a feat indeed!
  7. The concept of delicadeza is alien to her.
  8. GMA simply cannot imagine herself behind bars while the First Gentleman goes shopping in Hong Kong with Vicky Toh.
  9. GMA dreams of a royal wedding for her only daughter Luli in Malacañang. Not in Lubao Church, not at the Manila Cathedral. The plan is to invite heads of state, as well as former US President and GMA classmate Bill Clinton. The event will eclipse the
    profligacy of the Imee Marcos-Tommy Manotoc wedding.
  10. And finally, GMA won’t resign because she’s not the president. She’s just an overstaying palace visitor.

STRANGELY ENOUGH, while this list is funny in its “silliness,” all a reader can muster is a smile and maybe a snort. It hardly provokes laughter, most probably because it hits too close to home, but also because there’s nothing funny in the way Landicho has reworked his material. In fact, most of these could be true (although it has to be pointed out Landicho may have meant the lavish Sarrat wedding of Irene Marcos and Greggy Araneta, and not that of Imee and Tommy Manotoc, who had eloped). It is obvious enough that GMA has no delicadeza, and it is possible that she has believed her own propaganda about God being on her side. Even more painful is the possibility that she is just lucky—people aren’t in the mood for rallies, or for information that will lead them there. Number 10 in particular isn’t funny because it reminds us that we may have handled Erap and Edsa 2 all wrong. The funniest thing about this list really is the way it makes fun of GMA’s speech defect (see item 3), which is similar to the way we made fun of Erap’s grammar.

So why doesn’t this work? If Landicho’s blog entry for September 6 entitled “The Award Goes To” is any indication, the answer may have more to do with ideology than creativity. This entry pokes fun at the personalities involved in the impeachment case against GMA, with the “Cry Me a River” award, for example, being given to Dinky Soliman for crying three times after she resigned as the social welfare secretary, while still looking “fashionable with the highlights in her hair …Jolinaesque indeed!” There were also the “Mag-diet Ka Muna” award given to Taguig-Pateros Rep. Alan Peter Cayetano (for obvious reasons), and the “Not Enough Vitamins, Not Enough Life” award that went to Sorsogon Rep. Francis Escudero, who was unable to participate in the pro-impeachment walkout in Congress because, he said, he had fallen ill.

Here one begins to see why Landicho’s humor blog isn’t always funny. On the one hand, it has the temerity to make fun of the current state of the nation (when it wants to). On the other, it isn’t very clear where the blog stands in all these issues. It finds it fit to lampoon both GMA and her opposition, i.e. Soliman, Cayetano, Escudero et al., but it’s fuzzy about who—or what—it’s for. Strong statements are also made against what Landicho calls the “obsolete Left,” without taking into consideration all the steps this Left has taken toward compromise over and above the rallies that it leads.

Over at another humor blog, the sides are even less clearly drawn. Created by graphic artist/blogger Retzwerx, www.retzwerx.com has become known for its “poop-to-graphs,” in which thought and speech balloons are added to photographs of the president and her gang. But what or who is being made fun of? GMA? For having done what, exactly? What is the humor grounded on? That Retzwerx recently shifted topic from politics to reality TV’s “Pinoy Big Brother” is indicative not of the freedom allowed the blogger, but the lack of a clear political agenda that must drive any site set on inspiring change through laughter. It’s also something www.retzwerx.com shares with other similarly positioned Pinoy blogs: Although they have the guts to make fun of our politics, they are in the end only reactionary. They don’t have a clear stand on things, much less a sense of what to aspire for.

That’s one of the reasons why they’re not funny. One cannot make fun of the state of the nation without being serious or truthful about where one stands. In the same vein, one can’t just simply hate everyone—the government, the opposition, the Church, the Communists—without having a sense of the different colors they carry, and what those colors mean. One also can’t simply be angry. That doesn’t achieve much, as proven by Edsas 2 and 3.

AT LEAST in Erap’s time, our enemies were clear, our allies and alliances even clearer. We didn’t criticize both sides, and we reveled in having more and more people on our side—the Left, the Right, the religious in all its denominations. Now there are no enemies or any allies, and so we are not laughing. We seem stuck in a humorless political limbo.

Beyond the blogs, though, there seems to be hope, albeit a very small one. The site www.pldt.com is still going strong, and is in fact one of very few that fill the gap between the anti-Erap parody sites and the anti-GMA angry/reactionary blogs. While serious in its thrust of being anti-Arroyo at this point, particularly after the impeachment complaint was junked in Congress (see http://www.pldt.com/tipping%20point.htm), the site itself remains a force to reckon with. Not only is it still among the Top 50 Google sites in the news/satire directory, it also continues to rightly claim that it cares for the state of the nation, beyond Erap Estrada and Edsa 2. Just the same, however, there is a lot less irreverence now that there was in the Erap era—and a lot more anger directed at GMA.

Probably the only site that more than makes up for the dismal lack in political humor in light of current events is journalist Alan C. Robles’s online tabloid Hot Manila (www.hotmanila.com). Created by someone who has been exposing the absurdity of our politics for nearly two decades, Hot Manila is clear in its stand and has a good grasp of issues. It is also well-researched and well-thought out, using graphics and photographs alongside anti-GMA articles that make fun of her and the way she runs the country. It creates lists as well, but only to point out the parallelism between, say, having GMA as your lavandera (laundrywoman) and having her as President of the
Republic. (Among the top 10 reasons you wouldn’t want her as lavandera, it says, is that something other than your clothes.”)

Hot Manila skewers other political personalities, such as missing elections commissioner Virgilio Garcillano, who stars in the article “Cooking with Garci” that contains, among others, Recipe 1: Malacanang Delight—take one ballot box, and that’s it! “The Arroyo Administration: Good and Bad,” meanwhile, is not only funny, it is also a reminder of how this government has wasted money, ignored public clamor for better governance, and helped big business in its continuing plunder of the economy.

Hot Manila has readers laughing while offering the enough information that can force them to make a stand. Unfortunately, it is only one in a sea of sites and blogs that offer little else beyond clever writing about nothing. It’s a situation that can only be detrimental to the country, and delightful only to the Arroyo administration.

Actually, this lack of online laughter is not only a measure of our stand on things, if any, but is also revealing of how the Net functions in this country. It is really a middle-class tool, one that we had used successfully against Erap because he wasn’t like us. A friend observes that it had been much easier to gather people, i.e. the middle class, against Erap because of the matapobre factor. We felt Erap wasn’t good enough for us, so we fought him at all levels, and particularly on the Internet, which is the educated’s turf. Now that we are faced with a president who is Erap’s opposite—a GMA who is well-educated and not (outwardly) crass—we have become uncertain on how to cast the Net.

We can’t quite see GMA as the enemy, since the enemy in this case is broadcaster-cum-vice president Noli de Castro. Although a college graduate, he is still perceived to be of the same educational and showbiz class as Erap. There is a matapobre factor at work once more, but this time it’s working for the incumbent because the pobre who does not quite measure up is de Castro.

With successful parodies and satires, laughter becomes the only defense against the truth presented. But what happens when those truths aren’t clear to us? Orunacceptable to us? Maybe that’s why blogs like professionalheckler’s fail at being funny. There are just no truths to pick on and laugh about so hard that it hurts.

Now we just hurt.

komentaryo

Finding Spaces

published in PCIJ i-Report, the investigative reporting quarterly, of the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism, Issue no. 3, September 2005 http://www.pcij.org/i-report/3/filipino-youth.html

Too often the Filipino youth is viewed with the conventional eyes of our elders: we are the future of the nation, we are the agents of change. Government counts on us to help save the country, civil society exhorts us to be vigilant, the media remind us often enough that we are the hope of the nation. For the most part, however, they are disappointed. Especially when it’s convenient, we remain incomprehensible to our elders, and it’s easy to see why.

We are the high-tech generation, adept at computers and cell phones, but unable to communicate well without a keypad or a clicking mouse. Our relationships are characterized by, even built on, text messages and electronic mail, impersonal as these may be. We conspire with piracy and free internet downloads with gleefully open eyes, morality and ethics aside. We sit before our computers to find ourselves, if not in writing, then in creating websites, or in looking for jobs, friends, a community we might belong to. For many of us, our computers are our best friends, personal extensions where our work, our studies, our lives are conducted – if not created and re-created – as often as we find the need for it, which is quite often.

Our dependence on computers and cellphones is not only an indication of our aptitude for high-tech tasks and processes, it’s also an indication of our need for something we can hold on to, something that somehow defines us, and only us. We love being incomprehensible to our elders because of this technology, and we revel in it. Unfortunately, a lot of the time we also reveal our incapability at discernment, as we unthinkingly forward ill-informed text messages or emails, upload pictures on the internet without realizing the probability of its distribution, take videos with our phones and think nothing of it. We have a hard time deciding whether something is right or wrong, dangerous or not; worse, we are unable to discern just what role technology is playing in our lives, or why it has become so important to us.

This lack of clarity about the things that define us may be the only thing that we of this generation have in common. Born in the late 70s to early 80s to possibly activist or hippie parents, or to the straight conservative ones who stayed aloof of either extreme, ours is a generation that can’t seem to find a reason for its existence. At least our activist parents had the Left to believe in and the Marcos regime to struggle against; our hippie parents had the liberation of sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll to live up; our conservative parents had the Church and the institution of family to hold onto. We, on the other hand, are faced with nothing but the dregs of these institutions, now all unstable, often unintelligible, usually in the process of compromise. It’s practically a non-space of resistance and liberation, with uncertain enemies and even less certain ideologies to back us up.

Not that all of us are having a difficult time finding the right spaces within which we may exist, if only to survive. Cheap labor and globalization have brought us the call centers where half our youth are employed, changing their biological clocks, messing up relationships, and creating demand for 24-hour McDonalds and Jollibees in the strangest street corners. A small percentage of the other half are self-employed, given rich parents who are only too happy to put up seed money and get their kids started on the capitalist course. Others with moneyed parents have the luxury of doing volunteer and NGO work, moved as they seem by a need to “give something back to the country” without necessarily seeing the big picture in which rich (probably their) families are the oppressors. Many are still part of the Philippine Left, confusing as that label has become, in all its denominations. At least those of us who are part of the different leftist movements have a better sense of what ails this country, even when we have to go from simple terms like poverty and corruption to the abstract levels and jargon of imperialism, bureaucrat capitalism, and fascism. But so many more of the youth have left, or are set to leave. Our prospective teachers, doctors, nurses are on a constant exodus to different parts of the world, with a small middle to upper class percentage leaving in disgust what they think is as a sinking boat. The bigger chunk of those who say goodbye though are of the lower classes, and they’re the ones who say that they shall return, when they’ve ensured their futures with the dollars they will earn.

But most, if not all of us, are at a loss. It’s not clear why we’re living our lives the way we do, doing the things that occupy us. There’s always a sense of uncertainty, not about the future, but about the present: what exactly are we doing? why is this what we do? Whereas the generation before us always had a sense of a future – with family, with career, with house and lot and what-have-you – we are always looking at a future that’s closer to the present, where we may finish our studies, find a job, write a book, or just simply see the month’s end and decide then what next.

This is not to say that we aren’t enjoying ourselves, uncertainties and all. Thanks to the fruits of our hippie and activist parents’ labors, we live in a time when there’s freedom in the music we hear, the books we read, the television shows and movies we watch. We are liberated from the strict rules of the Church and the institutions of family, school and employment. Freed from the stereotypes which our parents rebelled against, we think nothing of reconfiguring our roles to suit our needs. We are redefining relationships as often as we redefine ourselves – literally with vanity, or figuratively with spiritual or religious beliefs, and the next hip ideology. Homosexuality in all its dimensions has become our norm. Easily accessible organic herbs, designer drugs, and expensive alcohol are inanimate friends we can count on. And then there’s the sexual freedom we are heir to, which most of the time we abuse, misuse, and unthinkingly tie our lives around. Our liberation, handed down as it was, has become the freedom we can’t quite live up to. We wear what we want, we can be what we want, and do as we please, but this is not to say that we’re actually doing something.

For the most part, we are easily satisfied with ourselves, and that’s where the problem lies. We can do volunteer work for an NGO by day and party with abandon by night without feeling conflicted – we deserve it because we’re doing something for the country. We can sit at a café all day and talk about what ails our lives, our relationships, our country, and think that this is productive. We go to a token rally “for the truth to come out” and imagine ourselves socially relevant. We look at EDSA 2 and think: hah! that was my doing, without a sense of what it has truly brought this country, which isn’t much.

Four years ago, tasked to teach critical thinking and the essay to college sophomores eight to ten years my junior, I decided that the only way they could learn to think critically would be to show them where exactly they were coming from, and where they should speak from, given the state of the nation. I wanted to help them realize that in everything they said, did, or thought, they were speaking, doing, and thinking as Filipinos, whether they liked it or not. With that realization would come the responsibility not just to speak as Pinoys and Pinays, but to be Pinoys and Pinay in their analysis of everything from soap operas to foreign critical theories, from current events to the clothes they wear.

Of course given that we all, young and old alike, continue to be messed up about our identity as a people, I could only ground them in certain realities about our country that we manage, consistently, not to confront. Realities that we keep in check because we can, since we are not directly burdened. The most basic of these that needs to be acknowledged, I found, is the fact that we are an impoverished country, never mind that we’re driving the newest cars, or that we have the latest cellphones, or that we are not the poor. It does not mean that everybody else is as well-off – because not a whole lot are. Only upon realizing this can we raise the question: why are we poor? A question that can only be answered by history, hopefully a Constantino history, which tells of how we have been oppressed for centuries and by what, and how we have always fought back.
A sense of history is a good beginning, I believe, for those of us in this generation, students and teachers alike, seeking a reason for our existence at this point in time. Because we may be hi-tech and all, free to make life choices, and liberated in the way we dress, think, and do things, but in truth, we are misplaced and displaced by a lack of consciousness about where we truly come from in the context of the country we irrevocably belong to. When the poverty is acknowledged, our enemies become obvious. Ours is a long history of governance that has not had the interests of the majority of this country in mind, allowing globalization to eat us alive, allowing the elite to continue owning more and more of this country’s money and natural resources for themselves, allowing booty capitalism to prosper at the expense of the poor and hungry majority.And then there’s us, the educated middle class, some of whom choose to remain complacently uncertain about what we may do, and some of whom choose to take off, in search of happier spaces.

But the space we search for can only be here, in the one country we are born to and can truly call ours. Whatever we do, whether we’re leaving or staying, taking to the streets for the masses or going to the countryside and joining the armed struggle, whether we’re writing in English or living up the Filipino language, teaching in a university or answering complaints at a call center, we make our decisions in the context of the state of this nation, as we know it. This is all the space we need, and the space where we are most needed. We only need to know enough to see it.

Meanwhile, we wander among the spaces we create and wonder what it will take to knock some sense into our heads about the changes we have the power to effect. Quite possibly, we are a generation doomed to an endless process of searching – in denial about this country’s truths, not ready to give up our lives for the bigger battles, uncertain of what exactly it is we can do. Probably, we are a transition generation, finding and making spaces in the strangest of places – be it in the technology we so love or in the bars of Malate, be it in waging war or in observing the peace, in writing or in taking to the streets – living out our contradictory lifestyles and values, creating an open space for the time when we may all agree on what we stand for, and find it in ourselves to fight the real struggle for country vs. poverty, enemies and all.

Hopefully we see that this time can be now.

komentaryo

Boycott!

published in i magazine, The Investigative Reporting Magazine of the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism, Vol. X, Nos.1-2, January-June 2004

No, this isn’t about apathy and a lack of interest in my country’s affairs. Nor is this simply about how the roster of candidates and their non-platforms have so stupefied me, I can’t bring myself to even think of voting. While the start of election season has seen me going through varying degrees of dismay, disgust, and distress, it’s not just these that have made me decide not to take part in the May elections. Truth is, long before GMA flip-flopped on her decision not to run, ever since EDSA Dos when the unified mob that stood up against Erap decided to go their separate ways – some on home, some with Cardinal Sin to pray, some with the Left to Mendiola – I have been finding many reasons not to vote, not least of which is the worsening poverty alongside a ballooning foreign debt, and the escalating presence of America in our land.

But the main reason goes beyond government and politics into the state of our minds. I’ve decided not to vote because over the last three years I’ve realized that we – the so-called “educated”, the middle to upper class “intelligent” and “enlightened” sector, the ones who read and write essays like this, including politicians – are actually all in over our heads, unable to make sense of our political and economic troubles, and incapable of working together towards real change. Worse, we actually think we are doing enough for the nation while blindly we accept and promote the Establishment’s propaganda that we need to celebrate our democracy with the vote even when the choices for president are all questionable.

How can we be at fault, you may ask. After all, we are the print and television personalities who fashion ourselves (or are fashioned) as “intellectuals” (sometimes academics) and who make it our business to be critical and to look out for the nation. We are the entrepreneurs who provide jobs, and the individuals who build NGOs to help neglected sectors. We stood up to the Marcos dictatorship and stopped tanks in 1986, then again marched to EDSA in 2000. We would like to think that we work and live for self AND nation. The question is, are our efforts getting the country anywhere near the goal of a happier prouder democracy?

Nowhere near, I would say, considering that even Inquirer’s Conrado de Quiros only goes as far as saying that we are responsible for the ignorant masa, but doesn’t tell us what he thinks we should do about it. Talk shows, like ANC’s Talkback with Tina Monzon Palma can only ask questions like “do political ads affect your vote?” as if the answer isn’t obvious. And on GMA 7, Debate’s Pareng Oca and Mareng Winnie are still stuck, still asking if a candidate’s personal life is important, as if there weren’t other, more important, questions begging to be asked.

The middle and upper classes happily go their separate shallow ways, content to do some good for some marginalized sector or other, but not to work on the flawed system to which it belongs. We’ve become so swift to label each other (communist! rejectionist! sell-out! even, fascist!) as though this were the be-all and end-all of any person, never mind that his or her proposed solution to a national problem may have merit. And for fear of being ourselves labelled, lest we lose our readers/fans/supporters – even present and future jobs – we have become very careful of what we say, and who or what we endorse, in public. It’s self-censorship at its best.

This is why we can celebrate democracy at the same time that we allow government to trample on it by disallowing rallies. We can moan about the how big the foreign debt is, but we can’t bring ourselves to insist that something be done about it. We say we’re pro-Pinoy yet we refuse to demand a pro-Pinoy platform of our presidential candidates. Worse, we do not seem to care, if we’ve noticed at all, that most of these candidates have charter change, specifically, changes in economic provisions, in their agenda, which should be freaking out serious pro-Pinoys!

Rightfully so, we are critical and wary of the wholistic solutions espoused by the extreme Left (communist rule) and the extreme Right (military rule), yet we in the middle have yet to come up with a coherent alternative, a political and economic strategy that would institute radical changes not only in the way we use and share the nation’s resources and do business among ourselves (Christian and Muslim alike), but also in the way we share our resources and do business with the rest of the world. And when someone actually comes up with something important, a must-read, like Walden Bello’s recent two-part essay “Thetragic consequences of doctrinaire economics” (posted on www.inq7.net, Dec. 24, 2003) on the Philippine economy and what we have been doing wrong compared to the rest of tiger Asia, no one prints it, no one reads it, no one takes it up for discussion.

Like Joel Rocamora, I thought for a while that maybe we could unite behind one candidate (my bet was Roco) and actually beat FPJ. But common sense and reality tell me otherwise. As de Quiros says, along with ABS-CBN and GMA 7 ads, voting is a personal thing. To vote is an act of conscience, an act of citizenship and freedom. Unfortunately for this country, this only really means voting for who we personally think will do something for us as individuals and our corresponding ideologies. It’s about self-centered concerns, and it means helping put in the highest position of the land someone who does not truly measure up.

A boycott may not solve anything, but would voting? The fact is, we need more than an election to save us from our troubles, and we need more than an “enlightened” electorate to get a good president. That we cannot even get ourselves a nationalist candidate is a reflection of how little we have come to demand of our leaders, and of ourselves. Too often, we have become like the politicians we complain about – we’ve started to believe our own propaganda and think we are doing enough.

In 1992 I campaigned for Salonga in the first ever election I was interested in. I was too young to vote, and he lost, but it was the only election I felt good about.

Having voted for Erap in ‘98, and participated in an EDSA that did nothing but put GMA in power, I refuse to put my country through the consequences of another of my mistakes. I owe it to my country not to vote. I will not settle for some “lesser evil”.

ComeMay 10 and enough registered voters boycott the exercise (which turn-out statistics would reflect) it would at least send the message to the President-elect that he or she has the vote and confidence of the inadequately informed and the politically naive only. *