I had no part in this very important event but I share the joy, freedom and pride most of the witnesses have. I am specially proud of the fact that we, the Filipinos, have diminished the fear in the oppressed and changed the ways of the world.
The EDSA Revolution happened more than 3 years before my birth but this did not stop me from knowing what I have gained through it. To us all it symbolizes unity, that we as a nation can unite and fight for the truth and for what is right. We were one nation, were.
When February comes we unite, yes, only when February comes so that we can celebrate our 4 day unity. I am 21 years of age and I do not belittle what my race has achieved, what few of my high school teachers did for me and my children to come. I belittle how far we've come and how pathetic we have limped for the passed years.
The biggest mistake was giving a steel boned ex-soldier power. The only right was the Revolution but we had poor follow ups. The grieving widow whose deceased husband taught us how to fight and who had no prior knowledge of governance gained the presidency through the sympathy vote. (I admire her reforms, don't get me wrong. I am trying not to be too harsh here but simply retracing our decisions.) After the numerous coups we gave the seat to another military man, a decorated general, another EDSA Revolution hero. The next president was no EDSA hero, but a movie star, yes he was another popular man who plundered and raped the country. His successor was the daughter of a great former president. And now we have another EDSA Revolution symbol as a leader. See the pattern?
Wake up Philippines! Do not deny the fact that we gave the presidency to him because he symbolizes his parents. 8 months in where are we now? The media calls his leadership directionless. I am not calling him to step down, I want him to grow a spine. Stop riding fame! And we people should stop placing actors and politician's children in positions just because they look good, look kind and most of all CARRY A NAME! It is democracy we fought for not monarchy. They have every right to run but we must look at the credentials. Would you hire a nurse to do something only a doctor can? You can clothe that nurse, give him a stethoscope to wear but he will never learn how to operate unless he goes to medical school.
Stop pointing fingers, stop riding the EDSA Revolution Euphoria, be cured of this syndrome and start making logical decisions.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Boston
Know the song Boston by Augustana? It goes like this:
She said, I think I'll go to Boston
I think I'll start a new life
I think I'll start it over, where no one knows my name
...
So why write something about this song? It hit me, because years ago I decided to leave my California - my old school. It is the soundtrack of my old plight.
People can be cruel, children most of all. It's because they do not understand. Others who don't even try to understand can be evil. Society isolates those who are different, those who do not conform to their standards. Bullying is a world issue right now. Laws against it have been written, but in my childhood years the only law was "What can't kill you will only make you stronger" - let it be known bullying has claimed hundreds of lives of young children and teens.
I'm not ashamed to say I was bullied. Bullying robed me of half my childhood. If you look at me now you won't believe me. I'm strong and big, always have been, but bullying comes in many forms. I'm not going to go into the details of how or why I was bullied, that's not why I write. I write to spark a change, to enlighten.
I was bullied in my elementary years, the early formative years where children are supposed to learn how to socialize. I had so few friends, my mother was constantly worried about that. Of my siblings I was the only underachiever, I was often called stupid. Don't get me wrong. I was a year younger than almost everyone in class. My grades were average. I ranked 10th once and that was it. I hated school. You see it wasn't just the children, some teachers choose to take the bully's side. I talked to a teacher about it once, she said "How dare you accuse an honor student and a teacher's son?" There were also a few times when teachers scolded me for crying, instead of the other students. Children have an excuse of not understanding, adults have none. They just choose not to. What about you?
My elementary school was a private Catholic school and, back then, to me public schools were characterized by riots and mangy kids. A clean, very structured Catholic school was my California. Changing to a public school was scary for me. PUP was my Boston. I knew I needed good grades to get in so in 6th grade I had to excel. I ranked 2nd in class though I didn't graduate with honors (a really long story) and I passed the entrance examination to the PUP Laboratory High School. I guess it was my cheerful disposition and the thought of a new life that made me excel in that last year. I graduated elementary full of joy.
Adapting to a new environment is hard. My first years in a new school was gruesome, but I did it. I had friends, a lot of them. I was among the top half of our batch when I was a sophomore, ranked 14th in my junior year and graduated 7th in academic ranking in one of the popular high schools in Manila. Numerous universities vied for my enlistment, but I still went to PUP to get a college education. I graduated among the top of the class, known as the hardware queen and the walk-in quiz bee finalist. Moving, or rather changing schools worked for me. I can say I am successful and can hold my head up high now, though I still can't hold a very good conversation in person nor can I say how I really feel. The things I write I cannot say in person. The damage has been done.
In high school I was not judged by the world. My teachers thought me how to think outside the box and accept my individuality. They encouraged me to view the world as a canvass, to do what I had to do to change it. There is no excuse for bullying. I'm surprised that parents dismiss it. A child should be proud of who and what he is. If this did not reach you or if I fail to change this generation I will change the next. My children will never be forced to run to a place where no one knows their name just to live as they are, neither will they be allowed to degrade a fellow human being for his individuality. Hitler was bullied by his father. He became the biggest bully killing millions. Are you going to raise Hitler?
She said, I think I'll go to Boston
I think I'll start a new life
I think I'll start it over, where no one knows my name
...
So why write something about this song? It hit me, because years ago I decided to leave my California - my old school. It is the soundtrack of my old plight.
People can be cruel, children most of all. It's because they do not understand. Others who don't even try to understand can be evil. Society isolates those who are different, those who do not conform to their standards. Bullying is a world issue right now. Laws against it have been written, but in my childhood years the only law was "What can't kill you will only make you stronger" - let it be known bullying has claimed hundreds of lives of young children and teens.
I'm not ashamed to say I was bullied. Bullying robed me of half my childhood. If you look at me now you won't believe me. I'm strong and big, always have been, but bullying comes in many forms. I'm not going to go into the details of how or why I was bullied, that's not why I write. I write to spark a change, to enlighten.
I was bullied in my elementary years, the early formative years where children are supposed to learn how to socialize. I had so few friends, my mother was constantly worried about that. Of my siblings I was the only underachiever, I was often called stupid. Don't get me wrong. I was a year younger than almost everyone in class. My grades were average. I ranked 10th once and that was it. I hated school. You see it wasn't just the children, some teachers choose to take the bully's side. I talked to a teacher about it once, she said "How dare you accuse an honor student and a teacher's son?" There were also a few times when teachers scolded me for crying, instead of the other students. Children have an excuse of not understanding, adults have none. They just choose not to. What about you?
My elementary school was a private Catholic school and, back then, to me public schools were characterized by riots and mangy kids. A clean, very structured Catholic school was my California. Changing to a public school was scary for me. PUP was my Boston. I knew I needed good grades to get in so in 6th grade I had to excel. I ranked 2nd in class though I didn't graduate with honors (a really long story) and I passed the entrance examination to the PUP Laboratory High School. I guess it was my cheerful disposition and the thought of a new life that made me excel in that last year. I graduated elementary full of joy.
Adapting to a new environment is hard. My first years in a new school was gruesome, but I did it. I had friends, a lot of them. I was among the top half of our batch when I was a sophomore, ranked 14th in my junior year and graduated 7th in academic ranking in one of the popular high schools in Manila. Numerous universities vied for my enlistment, but I still went to PUP to get a college education. I graduated among the top of the class, known as the hardware queen and the walk-in quiz bee finalist. Moving, or rather changing schools worked for me. I can say I am successful and can hold my head up high now, though I still can't hold a very good conversation in person nor can I say how I really feel. The things I write I cannot say in person. The damage has been done.
In high school I was not judged by the world. My teachers thought me how to think outside the box and accept my individuality. They encouraged me to view the world as a canvass, to do what I had to do to change it. There is no excuse for bullying. I'm surprised that parents dismiss it. A child should be proud of who and what he is. If this did not reach you or if I fail to change this generation I will change the next. My children will never be forced to run to a place where no one knows their name just to live as they are, neither will they be allowed to degrade a fellow human being for his individuality. Hitler was bullied by his father. He became the biggest bully killing millions. Are you going to raise Hitler?
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Bakit nga ba ganun ang title ng blog ni Steph?
Tulad ng lahat ng kababalaghang ginagawa ko, kailangan kong ipaliwanag kung bakit makalipas ang halos isang linggong pag-iisip at pag tanong sa mga friends sa facebook kung anong magandang title ng blog "Under the 8 Rays of the Sun" ang napagdesisyunan kong gamitin. Syempre diba sa pangatlong post pa talaga nag-explain...
Sa Pilipinas ako pinanganak.
Hindi ko sasabihin kung kailan at kung saang ospital, sa profile ka pumunta kung un ang gusto mong makita. 21 years old na ako pero aaminin ko na hindi Filipino ang unang lenguwahe ko. English ang nakamulatan ko at kung hindi pa naaksidente ang nanay ko (hindi ko sinabing maganda un ha) hindi kami matututo ng mga kapatid ko ng Tagalog (Syempre mas matagal silang English speaking kasi bunso ako).
Sa Pilipinas ako lumaki.
O, alam ko na yang joke mo...never ako naging maliit. Kahit marunong na ko mag Tagalog bago pa pumasok sa eskwelahan English speaking pa rin ako lalo na kapag galit na. Dun ako nagsimula magsulat, English lahat (ndi ba halata? O alam na kung bakit english ang mga nauna kong post). Yun kasi ang lumalabas eh. So kapag galit ako, sulat, sulat lang hangang sa mawala lahat ng nararamdaman. Kapag wala na normal na ko ulit, maglalaro. Sa bahay english ang pinapanood namin. Ayaw ko ng Batibot nun, maka-Sesame Street ako. English movies lang ang pinapanood sa sine, sabi ko kasi nun sayang lang pera kung manunuod ng tagalog.
Sa Pilipinas ako mamamatay.
Dark na ba? Kahit na mas marunong akong mag ingles (malalim nga na tagalog hindi ko maintindihan minsan), Pilipino pa rin ako. Adik ako sa news documentaries simula pagkabata: Probe, Correspondents at Reporter's Notebook (marami pa... pero d ko alam ung pangalan nung ibang palabas kasi wala naman akong pakialam sa pangalan ng palabas). Nakita ko lahat ng pangit sa bansa, lahat ng pagkakamaling madali lang naman itama kung gusto nila at ang mga problema ng bansa. Pero kahit na ganun, natutunan kong mahalin ang Pilipinas, salamat sa English Teacher ko nung High School (ang ironic noh?).Wala akong pakialam sa mga magsasabing "Mabubulok ka lang sa Pilipinas, hindi ka mapapakain ng pagmamahal mo", opinyon nila yun...eto ang akin. Ok naman sakin ang ma-rotate ng ilang buwan sa ibang bansa para sa trabaho (aba adventure un noh, d ko tatangihan), pero kung doon na ko talaga titira ayaw ko.
Wala naman akong partikular na topic sa pagsusulat, kung ano trip kong isulat yun na yun. Hindi naman kasi ako nagsusulat para mabasa (o ma- psychologize ako) ng iba. Para sakin kaya ako nagsusulat, para lang maglabas ng emosyon na hindi ko alam ilabas sa ibang paraan.
Eto palang ung part na explanation (nakaka asar noh? hahaha belat):
Alam mo naman siguro na 8 ang rays ng araw sa watawat ng Pilipinas diba? (nagbilang naman cya) Alam mo rin naman ung ibig sabihin ng phrase na, "Anything under the Sun". So, ayan na. Under the 8 Rays of the Sun: Opinyon ng isang Pilipino sa lahat ng bagay sa mundo. Bonus na rin na 7 words cya (wala lang, trip ko 7 eh).
Hindi ko alam kung kailan ako ulit magsusulat ng Filipino na post pero malamang hindi eto ang huli. Paalam!!!!!
Sa Pilipinas ako pinanganak.
Hindi ko sasabihin kung kailan at kung saang ospital, sa profile ka pumunta kung un ang gusto mong makita. 21 years old na ako pero aaminin ko na hindi Filipino ang unang lenguwahe ko. English ang nakamulatan ko at kung hindi pa naaksidente ang nanay ko (hindi ko sinabing maganda un ha) hindi kami matututo ng mga kapatid ko ng Tagalog (Syempre mas matagal silang English speaking kasi bunso ako).
Sa Pilipinas ako lumaki.
O, alam ko na yang joke mo...never ako naging maliit. Kahit marunong na ko mag Tagalog bago pa pumasok sa eskwelahan English speaking pa rin ako lalo na kapag galit na. Dun ako nagsimula magsulat, English lahat (ndi ba halata? O alam na kung bakit english ang mga nauna kong post). Yun kasi ang lumalabas eh. So kapag galit ako, sulat, sulat lang hangang sa mawala lahat ng nararamdaman. Kapag wala na normal na ko ulit, maglalaro. Sa bahay english ang pinapanood namin. Ayaw ko ng Batibot nun, maka-Sesame Street ako. English movies lang ang pinapanood sa sine, sabi ko kasi nun sayang lang pera kung manunuod ng tagalog.
Sa Pilipinas ako mamamatay.
Dark na ba? Kahit na mas marunong akong mag ingles (malalim nga na tagalog hindi ko maintindihan minsan), Pilipino pa rin ako. Adik ako sa news documentaries simula pagkabata: Probe, Correspondents at Reporter's Notebook (marami pa... pero d ko alam ung pangalan nung ibang palabas kasi wala naman akong pakialam sa pangalan ng palabas). Nakita ko lahat ng pangit sa bansa, lahat ng pagkakamaling madali lang naman itama kung gusto nila at ang mga problema ng bansa. Pero kahit na ganun, natutunan kong mahalin ang Pilipinas, salamat sa English Teacher ko nung High School (ang ironic noh?).Wala akong pakialam sa mga magsasabing "Mabubulok ka lang sa Pilipinas, hindi ka mapapakain ng pagmamahal mo", opinyon nila yun...eto ang akin. Ok naman sakin ang ma-rotate ng ilang buwan sa ibang bansa para sa trabaho (aba adventure un noh, d ko tatangihan), pero kung doon na ko talaga titira ayaw ko.
Wala naman akong partikular na topic sa pagsusulat, kung ano trip kong isulat yun na yun. Hindi naman kasi ako nagsusulat para mabasa (o ma- psychologize ako) ng iba. Para sakin kaya ako nagsusulat, para lang maglabas ng emosyon na hindi ko alam ilabas sa ibang paraan.
Eto palang ung part na explanation (nakaka asar noh? hahaha belat):
Alam mo naman siguro na 8 ang rays ng araw sa watawat ng Pilipinas diba? (nagbilang naman cya) Alam mo rin naman ung ibig sabihin ng phrase na, "Anything under the Sun". So, ayan na. Under the 8 Rays of the Sun: Opinyon ng isang Pilipino sa lahat ng bagay sa mundo. Bonus na rin na 7 words cya (wala lang, trip ko 7 eh).
Hindi ko alam kung kailan ako ulit magsusulat ng Filipino na post pero malamang hindi eto ang huli. Paalam!!!!!
Monday, January 10, 2011
Everybody's Searching for a Hero
I have recently concluded reading Bob Ong's Kapitan Sino and the words (both written and unwritten) struck me like a car blazing at night. The issues were not new to me, they are as old as I can remember and plain for me, but the fact that someone has written the actual facts that most desire to ignore and those that cared can't say it in words made me sport a smile as I read.
The entire time I cannot help but play a familiar song in my head:
Everybody's searching for a hero
People need someone to look up to
....
- The Greatest Love of All
Why do we need a hero? Someone else to sweep us out of our miseries, protect us and give everything up for our well being and when something goes wrong we blame him, it's everybody's fault except me. We take and take until there's no more and then move on to the hero in waiting.
Sad, but true. Like most youngsters, I used to dream of becoming a hero. Not like superman or batman, those guys were great but I looked up to Rizal, Bonifacio, Sajid Bulig(the boy who saved drowning people in a pagoda). I wanted to make a difference, but the world ate me up. I didn't do anything big, don't fret. People just take what you hand them and you're so lucky if you get a glimmer of gratitude. No wonder we're short of patriots and heroes; we just gobble them all up.
I am not ranting, let's get that straight. My dreams were mine, my issues my issues. I still have a deep desire to change the world (a bit too optimistic for my age, says some) and no one can make me think twice otherwise.
"Ikaw ang bayani ng sarili mong buhay. Ang bida sa sarili mong nobela." Lines most said and read but done not too often. If we fall, whose fault is it? If we fail to meet our goals, who is to blame? If were poor, weak or tired who do we go to?
These times are hard, I know, been there done that, but what good is to complain or point out blame. Why can't we rise?
I never got to fly a kite but I know wind and gravity will always resist it's rise, but somehow, if the child doesn't give up, with the help of a good blow of air the kite will rise and remain in the air where it belongs - help because if the wind is too strong, giving the kite everything he is, the kite is soon torn to pieces.
The entire time I cannot help but play a familiar song in my head:
Everybody's searching for a hero
People need someone to look up to
....
- The Greatest Love of All
Why do we need a hero? Someone else to sweep us out of our miseries, protect us and give everything up for our well being and when something goes wrong we blame him, it's everybody's fault except me. We take and take until there's no more and then move on to the hero in waiting.
Sad, but true. Like most youngsters, I used to dream of becoming a hero. Not like superman or batman, those guys were great but I looked up to Rizal, Bonifacio, Sajid Bulig(the boy who saved drowning people in a pagoda). I wanted to make a difference, but the world ate me up. I didn't do anything big, don't fret. People just take what you hand them and you're so lucky if you get a glimmer of gratitude. No wonder we're short of patriots and heroes; we just gobble them all up.
I am not ranting, let's get that straight. My dreams were mine, my issues my issues. I still have a deep desire to change the world (a bit too optimistic for my age, says some) and no one can make me think twice otherwise.
"Ikaw ang bayani ng sarili mong buhay. Ang bida sa sarili mong nobela." Lines most said and read but done not too often. If we fall, whose fault is it? If we fail to meet our goals, who is to blame? If were poor, weak or tired who do we go to?
These times are hard, I know, been there done that, but what good is to complain or point out blame. Why can't we rise?
I never got to fly a kite but I know wind and gravity will always resist it's rise, but somehow, if the child doesn't give up, with the help of a good blow of air the kite will rise and remain in the air where it belongs - help because if the wind is too strong, giving the kite everything he is, the kite is soon torn to pieces.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Who am I?
Weird, spontaneous, moody and explosive; I know I am hard to understand. I can't even explain me, I won't even try. I am a mystery to me. I don't know why I do the things I do or like the things I like. I don't know why sometimes I like to sit alone in a pitch black room. I can't say why I like red and black but despise pink. I don't know why at times I like company but suddenly desire privacy. I can't explain why I desire to know everything about anything. But in all of these, in all of my craziness, one thing gives me peace,one fact makes not knowing everything all right - THE TRUTH! The Truth that I was not made for you to understand nor was I made to be acceptable to your standards. I live to please only one. I know my purpose... I believe the question now is Who are you?
--- o diba ang gulo ko!
--- o diba ang gulo ko!
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