Tag Archives: Sendong

komentaryo

on volunteerism, and the disaster of a government

the cultural discourse on bayanihan and the Filipino’s propensity for kindness and reaching out has undoubtedly changed since the disaster that was Ondoy in 2009. then, relief efforts were galvanized online, like a grand display of how we could all be heroes, how we could help in our own ways, with narratives on heroism cutting across artistas going on their boats and surfboards to help out those stranded on the rooftops of their homes, with the nameless | faceless pinoys all over the world who opened up their homes to donations and spent time packing these for sending to affected areas.

this story was no surprise then, as it is no surprise now, two years after, with the disaster called Sendong. and it doesn’t surprise me either, the questions now being asked of volunteerism and helping out, of the bayanihan that happens online. in fact it is infinitely interesting that these questions are being asked now, because it means we are becoming more and more critical even of ourselves, and the role we play in light of government’s functions and dysfunctions, all the more highlighted in times of tragedy.

on twitter, @complainerchua raised valid points about the use of such a public space to raise funds to be donated to Sendong relief efforts:

complainer1
complainer1

@complainerchua was referring to @franky who was selling his samsung tab to the highest bidder with the promise of giving all the money earned to @gangbadoy’s Rock Ed. @complainerchua then asks: why make this so public? why display the amount of a donation?

the answer of course seems simple: on twitter and in light of the tragedy, people might be willing to shell out a little bit more than the actual amount for the gadget. in as much as it might be seen as a display of how much @franky was donating, it could also be a display of how much people were willing to help.

which might be said of Rock Ed via @gangbadoy as well. on the one hand it might seem like an overload of calls / demands / pleas for every kind of aid that’s needed for Sendong victims. at the same time, it’s entirely possible that companies like So-en and Avon, EQ diapers, LBC, Cebu Pac and PAL would be less, uh, helpful (?) were they not being called upon / mentioned / thanked via social media. it’s not to say that they might not help otherwise, but we can’t know that for sure anymore.

what i’m sure of is the fact that for whatever complaints we might have about the volunteerism that Rock Ed stands for, it has proven itself as a credible NGO through which funds and donations might be generated and can pass through, from donor to beneficiaries. and any organization, non-government and otherwise, would know that credibility is hard to come by in these shores.

but here is the crux of the matter: how can an NGO be more credible than government? how can we trust it more in a time of crisis?

elsewhere in the world private and non-government relief efforts is about helping people in need. when someone like Oprah or Ellen, when Rachael Ray, take on causes, they are doing so to help a particular sector of people; when a huge television special is put together to raise funds, it’s very clear that it’s about helping the victims of one tragedy or other. but here where we come from the line between helping people and helping government is not clearly drawn.

not surprisingly, it’s a line that government itself would rather not draw. because then it allows a president like PNoy to not speak at all in the aftermath of tragedy. it allows him to think that it’s ok to stay silent for four days because yes, his people are doing their jobs, but also because look at the Filipinos! coming together to help CDO and Iligan! because without drawing that line, PNoy can come out and talk about the Filipino as hero, he can talk about falling 10 times and getting up 11 times (paano ‘yon exactly?), he can talk about lending a helping hand, and he can take credit for a nation’s middle and upper classes that rise to the occasion of tragedy, that will do what it can, given its limited resources.

it is because that line isn’t drawn that Rock Ed is being questioned now, on twitter and elsewhere, for the volunteerism that it banks on and celebrates. it is in the blurring of that line that someone like Illac Diaz can shoot from the hip and question rock concerts as fund raising activities. the critical stance is valid of course, but its premises need to be questioned, too. it should be clear to everyone after all, that the demand for a long-term solution is extraneous to the function of an NGO, the insistence on systemic change is different from the demand for volunteerism in a time of crisis — or at any other time for that matter.

and so in the same way that it was counterproductive of Mar Roxas’ DOTC to just set aside the volunteer work that the Cobonpue-Layug-Pineda team put together for the National Competitiveness Council’s NAIA 1 project, it is unfair (and yes, counterproductive) to be hitting Rock Ed and other NGOs for what they do in a time of crisis. this is valid work that volunteers put in, it is work that surely some other NGO would take on if Rock Ed weren’t around, albeit with less organization and probably a less functional network of donors / donations / volunteers.

which is not to say NGOs like Rock Ed should be saved from criticism at all. in fact they should precisely receive a fair amount of criticism because of how they function in light of government, and how they can be and are used by the latter in rhetoric and discourses on how things are ok, when things are farthest from being so.

in that sense we need to make clear, that whether we volunteer as individuals or within organizations, the work we do will not save the world, nor is this work that should even be here were government functioning properly and correctly. volunteerism, in a time of crisis and beyond, is always a stop-gap operation, always a short-term solution, always always a band-aid for the shallow wounds.

the deeper, more painful, more dangerous wounds, those are for organizations that fight and struggle for a change in the systems that are dysfunctional and corrupt and oppressive, the systems that allow for legal and illegal logging to continue, the systems that let more than a thousand people die in a flood. NGOs are in a box of a cause, or a time of need, or sectoral change at most. its refusal to negotiate on the level of systemic change is its own limitation. that the latter is also what makes NGOs a welcome friend to a disaster of a PNoy government, is no surprise.

komentaryo

take it personally

“An old student once quoted to me Allan Gurganus’ remark that it was the writer’s job to take the world personally. I think that that’s true. When I read about The Who or John Ashcroft, or the disaster at Chernobyl, I’m reading about it because I’m interested in the subject, and by interested I mean to suggest that not only my intellect but my emotions have been engaged. And when I’m reading, I’m trying to read receptively; that is, I’m beginning, if I’m engaged enough, to pay attention to how what I’m reading is affecting me, and why. You might say that, if I’m, for example, reading about the catastrophe at Chernobyl, I’m simultaneously storing away the facts about the disaster and keeping on eye an the spectacle of my own ongoing affective reaction to what I’m learning.

Suffering is everywhere. Drama is everywhere. Why do some things affect us so much, when others don’t? Some things we come across and say, Oh, that’s terrible, and go on to the next thing. Other events, experienced and imagined, stay with us. The fact that they don’t go away is a hint about how important they are to our psyches. That’s a hint to which the writer should pay attention. What’s important about those things? That’s for us to find out.” — Jim Shepard, from here.

because as always this nation’s middle to upper classes rise to the occasion of those victimized by tragedy. because this should not in any way absolve the government of reponsibility, should not make them imagine that there is less to do, that what they’ve done is enough. because i realize now that sometimes rhetoric is all we need, when it is done right away, at that precise moment when a leader needs to be anchor for the task of relief and aid, rebuilding and reconstruction. i realize that where we come from, and right now, leadership is pure fiction.

komentaryo

nasaan si PNoy? or where’s the party?

and this isn’t even about the fact of those tweets from the celebrity guests at what apparently was a christmas party in Malacanang on Sunday, December 18 — which cannot be denied, such is the curse of tweeting, such is the power of screen grabs / captures, and no those women weren’t irresponsible, they were being themselves.

what is irresponsible is the fact that there’s talk at all of a party happening at this point in the most powerful halls of nation, when we are in fact at a time that should be about mourning. this is what’s at the core of this backlash about news of a Malacanang party; it’s not whether or not the PSG can party, not about whether PNoy just passed by or stayed at that party. what’s at its core is a question about PNoy, as president, as leader, and what it is he has done.

or has yet to do. which is to make his presence felt. and no, not via twitter, not through his communications team(s), not through Abigail Valte and Manolo Quezon, not through press releases announcing how much money he’s allocated for relief operations, not through DSWD and Dinky Soliman.  

you of course will ask: what good will it do to hear PNoy at this point? what good would a public statement do? what good will it do for him to fly out to the grief stricken areas right now? what good would it have done had we heard from him on Saturday, when we realized the magnitude of the tragedy?

in fact plenty. in an almost how-to book on being leader in extreme situations, in extremis leadership, leading as if your life depended on it (2007) by Thomas A. Kolditz, puts common sense into words:

People are remarkably consistent in their needs and reactions around tragedy. Death is a great equalizer, and grief comes to the rich and famous, and the poor and insignificant, in exactly the same way. Leading is about people, and death presents both an obligation and an opportunity to lead. The obligation and opportunity are fleeting, though, so leaders must be ready to step up without hesitation. Both organizational practices and the leader’s intent have to be in place continuously, or the event passes unrecognized. (158)

in times like this one, PNoy’s voice is important because we need to recognize this event for what it is: a tragedy. we need to hear PNoy say this, we need for him to say that we are a nation in mourning, a nation in grief, because those words will become a way of dealing with the pain that is in front of us. i am certain that Malacanang knows of the value of proper communication, and so they must know too, that there is value in hearing PNoy say this, in seeing him on television, addressing the nation, telling us how to deal. because yes actions may speak louder than words, and PNoy might have delegated the task of action to the right people, but words are valuable too at a time like this.

<…> one important benefit of effective leadership in such crisis situations is to help reestablish a sense of control, predictability, and hope in the midst of confusion, chaos, and fear. (Kolditz, 155)

this requires that PNoy address the nation and be the symbolic center of what is a time for national unity and action. this can only happen if PNoy addresses the nation, if the image that we have of him is that of someone who has dropped everything because the task at hand is urgent, and because we need to see him on top of the situation, as a leader — as a president — should be.

in times of crisis, a president is supposed to comfort nation, he is supposed to “strike a precise balance of resolve and sympathy,” and yes, he does this through words, as he is also tasked to “make sense of the senseless, in the wake of national tragedy.” that we do not get this from PNoy is at the core of why the news that there was a party in Malacanang, that he was even at that party, is just difficult to let go of: it’s bad enough that we cannot count on him as symbolic anchor, that we do not hear him speak, that he puts off the visit to grief-stricken areas for four days. but to even hear of this talk about a party? it’s the last image of a leader we need in our heads.

but of course Malacanang will spin this, PNoy will brush all this talk off, and say it doesn’t matter, they know what it is that they’re actually doing. PNoy after all takes pride in delegating work that needs to be done to the people he trusts, which would mean that he’s doing so much more than if he were the one knee deep in the mud in CDO, or updating the nation in breaking news.

but the question is: why can’t he do both? why can’t he micromanage while he fulfills the presidential expectation that is to be a presence in our consciousness as we watch painful footage of this tragedy? why can’t PNoy be the soundbite that tells us to unite as nation, to come together, to help out, because we are all in grief and we can turn that grief into action?

the fact that this nation rises to the occasion, the fact that the middle and upper classes who have the time and wherewithal can unite without the voice of a president is a wonderful thing for sure. but this shouldn’t be taken to mean that PNoy can be irresponsible in the face of tragedy. and this isn’t so much about being at a party, as it is about proving himself our president, who will be hope and anchor, who will speak! in these, the most dire of circumstances. that is his role, too. and it isn’t asking for much really.

we don’t need a hero. we just need (to have the sense that we have) a president.