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LUCIA
10 years ago
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
By Jessica Zafra:
To us she was the symbol of the world we wanted: a world where people could speak their minds without disappearing, where public servants actually served, where leaders were honest, just, selfless, intelligent and dignified.
You don’t have to be 35 and up to know that that was not the world we got. These days when we speak of politics at all it is with indifference, anger, or “Please, could we talk about something that doesn’t make us nauseous?” But there was a time when we could discuss government with hope, pride and trust in our leaders, and that was when Corazon Aquino was president.
It did not last. We were cruelly disillusioned: “Pare-pareho lang naman pala kayong lahat.” The revolution had failed us, if it was a revolution at all. Later, whenever Tita Cory urged us to join mass protests against official corruption we still went, but many of us wondered what for. Massing on the streets would cause traffic jams, disrupt business, generate bad press for the country. We should be mature, let the democratic process take its course.
In other words we had resolved to suck it up. Grownups do it all the time.
So we did what was deemed pragmatic. We made compromises and dug in.
We didn’t want any trouble. We got by; some would argue that we did pretty well under the circumstances. But something rankled. If we were doing the right thing, why were we beginning to loathe ourselves?
We heard ourselves speaking with fond nostalgia about how orderly the city was during the Marcos years, how at least there was support for the arts. More and more we found ourselves throwing our hands up and saying, “Whatever.” Is that what being an adult is like, saying “There’s nothing I can do”? No more applying your imagination, just sheep-like acceptance? Because if that’s maturity, it is not a good thing.
When I heard the news of President Cory Aquino’s death I was surprised at how upset I was. I found myself getting teary-eyed when talking about her. Most times I will gouge your eyes out before I let you see me cry, but in this instance it’s all right — my friends are getting soppy, too. On TV, hardcore former coup plotters are weeping because Tita Cory is dead.
Thousands of people with nothing to gain lined up for hours at La Salle and at Manila Cathedral to pay their last respects to our president. They had nothing to gain but their self-respect and the feeling that they had a country. Politicians promise us everything, but sometimes all we really want is to feel that we are part of something bigger than ourselves.
On Monday morning on EDSA I thought it was 1986 all over again. Why this massive outpouring of grief and affection for a symbol we thought we had outgrown?
I think Tita Cory reminds us of our other, better selves — the ones who were prepared to make sacrifices for a noble cause. Politicians and governments have sorely disappointed us, but we never lost faith in Tita Cory the human being. She never mocked our aspirations or knowingly insulted our intelligence. She defended the Constitution from those who would bend it to their own ends; she rejected the idea of perpetuating herself in power. Say what you will about the missed opportunities and lost chances, Cory Aquino was decent to us.
She was a good person.
And after all our “growing up,” “learning to face harsh reality” and losing our illusions, it turns out that character does matter. Being good does make a difference. You will not receive praise or payment for it, and other people will mistake your goodness for weakness, but it resonates among people you won’t even meet.
To us she was the symbol of the world we wanted: a world where people could speak their minds without disappearing, where public servants actually served, where leaders were honest, just, selfless, intelligent and dignified.
You don’t have to be 35 and up to know that that was not the world we got. These days when we speak of politics at all it is with indifference, anger, or “Please, could we talk about something that doesn’t make us nauseous?” But there was a time when we could discuss government with hope, pride and trust in our leaders, and that was when Corazon Aquino was president.
It did not last. We were cruelly disillusioned: “Pare-pareho lang naman pala kayong lahat.” The revolution had failed us, if it was a revolution at all. Later, whenever Tita Cory urged us to join mass protests against official corruption we still went, but many of us wondered what for. Massing on the streets would cause traffic jams, disrupt business, generate bad press for the country. We should be mature, let the democratic process take its course.
In other words we had resolved to suck it up. Grownups do it all the time.
So we did what was deemed pragmatic. We made compromises and dug in.
We didn’t want any trouble. We got by; some would argue that we did pretty well under the circumstances. But something rankled. If we were doing the right thing, why were we beginning to loathe ourselves?
We heard ourselves speaking with fond nostalgia about how orderly the city was during the Marcos years, how at least there was support for the arts. More and more we found ourselves throwing our hands up and saying, “Whatever.” Is that what being an adult is like, saying “There’s nothing I can do”? No more applying your imagination, just sheep-like acceptance? Because if that’s maturity, it is not a good thing.
When I heard the news of President Cory Aquino’s death I was surprised at how upset I was. I found myself getting teary-eyed when talking about her. Most times I will gouge your eyes out before I let you see me cry, but in this instance it’s all right — my friends are getting soppy, too. On TV, hardcore former coup plotters are weeping because Tita Cory is dead.
Thousands of people with nothing to gain lined up for hours at La Salle and at Manila Cathedral to pay their last respects to our president. They had nothing to gain but their self-respect and the feeling that they had a country. Politicians promise us everything, but sometimes all we really want is to feel that we are part of something bigger than ourselves.
On Monday morning on EDSA I thought it was 1986 all over again. Why this massive outpouring of grief and affection for a symbol we thought we had outgrown?
I think Tita Cory reminds us of our other, better selves — the ones who were prepared to make sacrifices for a noble cause. Politicians and governments have sorely disappointed us, but we never lost faith in Tita Cory the human being. She never mocked our aspirations or knowingly insulted our intelligence. She defended the Constitution from those who would bend it to their own ends; she rejected the idea of perpetuating herself in power. Say what you will about the missed opportunities and lost chances, Cory Aquino was decent to us.
She was a good person.
And after all our “growing up,” “learning to face harsh reality” and losing our illusions, it turns out that character does matter. Being good does make a difference. You will not receive praise or payment for it, and other people will mistake your goodness for weakness, but it resonates among people you won’t even meet.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
exceptional excerpts
Theres The Rub
One good person
By Conrado de QuirosPhilippine Daily InquirerFirst Posted 00:13:00 08/05/2009Filed Under: (For those who didn’t watch the elegiac rites for Corazon Aquino last night, and even for those who did but want to read these things as much as hear them, this was what I said there, in its expanded form.)
I’VE written a good many things about Cory this past couple of weeks. I guess it’s time I got a little more personal.
I wasn’t an ardent fan of Cory at the beginning, I was an ardent critic. I came from the ranks of the red rather than the yellow, and looked at the world from the prism of that color. It got so that in one program Kris Aquino invited me to (I don’t know if she remembers this), she took me to task for it. It was an Independence Day show, and during one break, Kris turned to me and said: “Why are you so mean to my mom?”
I was, to put it mildly, taken aback. It’s not easy finding a clever answer to an accusation like that put with breathtaking candor. I just flashed what I thought would be a disarming smile. I don’t know if it disarmed.
What can I say? Maybe I’m just naturally mean. Or maybe I just say what I mean and mean what I say.
Years later, when the world had turned, and not for the better, I got an unexpected phone call. Cory was at the other end, which awed me. She said she was calling just to express her appreciation for something I had written about her. I do not now recall what it was. What I recall was mumbling something about not being the best person to say those things in light of what I had been saying before. She said that wasn’t true: I was the best person to say those things because of what I had been saying before.
I appreciated the appreciation.
Still years later, I would have cause to appreciate yet one more thing. That was February this year when, from out of the blue, Cory visited at the wake of my mother. I did not bother to ask, “Why are you so kind to my mom?” I knew by then it was her nature to be so.
She stayed for about an hour, and did much of the talking. Boy, could she talk! I didn’t know that before. But I’ve always been a good listener. She talked, I listened. What we talked about is best left for another time. But afterward, I thought: What strange directions life takes. What strange forks, detours, and crossings life takes.
I’ve seen activists who began by serving the people, or exhorting the world to, end up serving only themselves. And I’ve seen students who thought only of saving their families end up saving the world, or trying to. I’ve seen the best and the brightest turn only into the worst and greediest. And I’ve seen someone who was walang alam, or who was made out to be so, teach the world a thing or two about honor and courage and grace.
Maybe it’s not so strange that people who start out being enemies on grounds of principle end up being friends on those same grounds. And people who start out being friends without principle end up being enemies on that same ground.
I wondered, like someone who had come back to where he started and saw the place for the first time: Maybe colors are there to unite us more than separate us. Maybe red is just the blood that pulses in the veins in love and war. Maybe yellow is just the pages of a letter from a loved one that magically bring him back to life. Maybe blue is just the sky, however cloudy, when looked at through the bars of a prison cell. Maybe green is just fields promising plenitude. Maybe black is just the tangle of our fate, the twists and turns of our life, as we grope our way forward. Maybe white is just the grace to push on, amid the darkness.
I wondered with the wisdom of innocence and the naivete of age: Maybe we’re divided only into good people and bad people. How people are so, or become so, I’ll leave others to divine. Maybe they are just born that way, maybe like scorpions they sting because it is in their nature to sting. Or maybe they are made that way, as much by the circumstances that mold their character as their character that molds their circumstances. But bad people are there; we know that only too well. Just as well, good people are there too; we know that even more so.
We know the latter because we had someone walk with us who was so. Someone who was so disinterested in power she accepted it gravely as a matter of duty and gave it up gracefully as a matter of trust, for which she remains an awesome force even in death. Someone who, while she lived, showered not very small kindnesses on others in their hour of need or bereavement, having known bereavement herself and the comfort of empathy as much as the empathy of comfort, for which she continues to live with us even in death. Someone who proved once before as Joan of Arc and who will prove once again like El Cid the terrifying and wondrously prophetic vision of her faith: The exalted shall be humbled and the humble exalted.
In life and in death, Cory has been—pardon my French—one damn good person.
Good persons of the world, unite. You have nothing to lose but your bane.
* * *
Malacañang’s decision to declare today a holiday has nothing to do with commiserating with those who have lost a loved one, which is the whole nation. It has everything to do with preventing the explosion of love for Cory from becoming an explosion of fury at the opposite of Cory, who isn’t just Ferdie. Be there at the funeral procession today. Be there to keep Cory alive. Be there to bury tyranny in a deep dark grave.
By Conrado de QuirosPhilippine Daily InquirerFirst Posted 00:13:00 08/05/2009Filed Under: (For those who didn’t watch the elegiac rites for Corazon Aquino last night, and even for those who did but want to read these things as much as hear them, this was what I said there, in its expanded form.)
I’VE written a good many things about Cory this past couple of weeks. I guess it’s time I got a little more personal.
I wasn’t an ardent fan of Cory at the beginning, I was an ardent critic. I came from the ranks of the red rather than the yellow, and looked at the world from the prism of that color. It got so that in one program Kris Aquino invited me to (I don’t know if she remembers this), she took me to task for it. It was an Independence Day show, and during one break, Kris turned to me and said: “Why are you so mean to my mom?”
I was, to put it mildly, taken aback. It’s not easy finding a clever answer to an accusation like that put with breathtaking candor. I just flashed what I thought would be a disarming smile. I don’t know if it disarmed.
What can I say? Maybe I’m just naturally mean. Or maybe I just say what I mean and mean what I say.
Years later, when the world had turned, and not for the better, I got an unexpected phone call. Cory was at the other end, which awed me. She said she was calling just to express her appreciation for something I had written about her. I do not now recall what it was. What I recall was mumbling something about not being the best person to say those things in light of what I had been saying before. She said that wasn’t true: I was the best person to say those things because of what I had been saying before.
I appreciated the appreciation.
Still years later, I would have cause to appreciate yet one more thing. That was February this year when, from out of the blue, Cory visited at the wake of my mother. I did not bother to ask, “Why are you so kind to my mom?” I knew by then it was her nature to be so.
She stayed for about an hour, and did much of the talking. Boy, could she talk! I didn’t know that before. But I’ve always been a good listener. She talked, I listened. What we talked about is best left for another time. But afterward, I thought: What strange directions life takes. What strange forks, detours, and crossings life takes.
I’ve seen activists who began by serving the people, or exhorting the world to, end up serving only themselves. And I’ve seen students who thought only of saving their families end up saving the world, or trying to. I’ve seen the best and the brightest turn only into the worst and greediest. And I’ve seen someone who was walang alam, or who was made out to be so, teach the world a thing or two about honor and courage and grace.
Maybe it’s not so strange that people who start out being enemies on grounds of principle end up being friends on those same grounds. And people who start out being friends without principle end up being enemies on that same ground.
I wondered, like someone who had come back to where he started and saw the place for the first time: Maybe colors are there to unite us more than separate us. Maybe red is just the blood that pulses in the veins in love and war. Maybe yellow is just the pages of a letter from a loved one that magically bring him back to life. Maybe blue is just the sky, however cloudy, when looked at through the bars of a prison cell. Maybe green is just fields promising plenitude. Maybe black is just the tangle of our fate, the twists and turns of our life, as we grope our way forward. Maybe white is just the grace to push on, amid the darkness.
I wondered with the wisdom of innocence and the naivete of age: Maybe we’re divided only into good people and bad people. How people are so, or become so, I’ll leave others to divine. Maybe they are just born that way, maybe like scorpions they sting because it is in their nature to sting. Or maybe they are made that way, as much by the circumstances that mold their character as their character that molds their circumstances. But bad people are there; we know that only too well. Just as well, good people are there too; we know that even more so.
We know the latter because we had someone walk with us who was so. Someone who was so disinterested in power she accepted it gravely as a matter of duty and gave it up gracefully as a matter of trust, for which she remains an awesome force even in death. Someone who, while she lived, showered not very small kindnesses on others in their hour of need or bereavement, having known bereavement herself and the comfort of empathy as much as the empathy of comfort, for which she continues to live with us even in death. Someone who proved once before as Joan of Arc and who will prove once again like El Cid the terrifying and wondrously prophetic vision of her faith: The exalted shall be humbled and the humble exalted.
In life and in death, Cory has been—pardon my French—one damn good person.
Good persons of the world, unite. You have nothing to lose but your bane.
* * *
Malacañang’s decision to declare today a holiday has nothing to do with commiserating with those who have lost a loved one, which is the whole nation. It has everything to do with preventing the explosion of love for Cory from becoming an explosion of fury at the opposite of Cory, who isn’t just Ferdie. Be there at the funeral procession today. Be there to keep Cory alive. Be there to bury tyranny in a deep dark grave.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
man in the mirror
Michael Jackson really rocked the world with this beautiful and meaningful song...
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
fresh from NEW ZEALAND
Perched on a small hill in New Zealand,surrounded with houses that normally have gardens,JANE strikes her Korean pose:-)
Clean and calm waters......
These two girls who look like characters in Harry Potter became Jane's closest friends..
So her name is Zzzzzzari,the cutest and funniest baby who partied while she FARTED to the tune of Korean music....
I forgot to ask Jane about the first thing that they did after IT.I am clueless on whether they laughed or they covered their noses first...........
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
johny's eviction....
there is such a thing as GOOD RIDDANCE....
BYE JOHNY!!!!!!!!
of never coming back........
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
sing your heart OUT
Finally,I found the right lyrics.Strange,but it seems tailor-made to vent out pent-up emotions..
Lindasy Lohan THIS I have to say..Aside from Parent Trap and Mean Girls,I have another reason to thank YOU!
Something I Never Had
» Lindsay Lohan
Do you see me
Do you feel me like I feel you
Call your number
I can not get through
You don't hear me and I dont understand
When I reach out I dont find your hand
Was it wasted words and did they mean a thing
And all our precious time but I still feel so in between
[Chorus:]Some day I just keep pretending
That youll say dreaming of a diffrent ending
I wanna hold on but it hurts so bad
And I can't keep something that I never had
I keep tell myself things can turn around with time
And if I wait it out you could always change your mind
Like a fairy tale where it works out in the end
Can I close my eyes have you lying here again
Then I come back down
They I fade back in
Then I realize its just what Its just what might have been.
[chorus]
Am I a shadow on your wall
Am I anything at all
Anything to you
Am I a secret that you keep
Do you dream me while your sleeping after all
Some day I just keep pretending
That youll say dreaming of a diffrent ending
I wanna hold on but it hurts so bad
And I can't keep something that I never had
That I never had
I wanna hold on but it hurts so bad
And I can't keep something that I never had
You dont see me, you dont feel me like I feel you
Lindasy Lohan THIS I have to say..Aside from Parent Trap and Mean Girls,I have another reason to thank YOU!
Something I Never Had
» Lindsay Lohan
Do you see me
Do you feel me like I feel you
Call your number
I can not get through
You don't hear me and I dont understand
When I reach out I dont find your hand
Was it wasted words and did they mean a thing
And all our precious time but I still feel so in between
[Chorus:]Some day I just keep pretending
That youll say dreaming of a diffrent ending
I wanna hold on but it hurts so bad
And I can't keep something that I never had
I keep tell myself things can turn around with time
And if I wait it out you could always change your mind
Like a fairy tale where it works out in the end
Can I close my eyes have you lying here again
Then I come back down
They I fade back in
Then I realize its just what Its just what might have been.
[chorus]
Am I a shadow on your wall
Am I anything at all
Anything to you
Am I a secret that you keep
Do you dream me while your sleeping after all
Some day I just keep pretending
That youll say dreaming of a diffrent ending
I wanna hold on but it hurts so bad
And I can't keep something that I never had
That I never had
I wanna hold on but it hurts so bad
And I can't keep something that I never had
You dont see me, you dont feel me like I feel you
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