THIS IS WHO WE ARE

[quicksilver-47.livejournal.com]

THIS IS WHO WE ARE

The Filipino is a traveler.

He is like Odysseus; adventurous, brave, and daring. He knows that in order to learn more about this life he is living; he must come out of his shell, and explore the world around him. However, the Filipino also knows that he must first wander the dusty streets of his Motherland; the beautiful Philippines, if he is to learn more of his birthright and heritage. He knows that he must first familiarize himself with the purple mountains that soar against the azure dome that stretches high above his small farm. He has admitted to himself that before he memorizes the capitals of the great cities beckoning to him across the seas, he must first learn by heart, the names of the cities and towns his beloved country is known for. And in his bosom, the Filipino holds a sacred truth; that before he pays the respect that is due to the flags of the United States, Great Britain, Japan, and China, along with other countries, he must first have the colors of his Motherland ingrained into his very being. Red. Blue. Yellow. White.

The Filipino is a student.

She is like a freshman attending her very first day at school; nervous, yet giddy with excitement. She brings with her all the necessary materials she thinks will be able to help her take in all the information given by the teacher. She loves to learn. She never turns her back on her responsibilities as a student, yet finds time for leisure and recreation. And if her schedule binds itself around her a mite too tight, she squirms, moves, so persistently until the ropes that have coiled themselves around her are loosened, and she is free once more. She is resourceful. She knows that cramming is something every student goes through, yet she does not give in to the invitation of a relaxing afternoon with friends in a movie house, if she knows there is much work to be done. And because of this, her name can always be seen at the top of the list of achievers for the year.

The Filipino is a scientist.

He is inventive, and innovative. In him lives the spirits of Galileo, Einstein, Newton, and Curie. He is not satisfied with mediocre medicine, or standard technology. Instead, he makes, remakes, thinks, and rethinks. He is inquisitive. “Why does the world spin on its axis?” he asks the professor in Astronomy. “Why do we even exist?” he quips, when his professor in Philosophy stops talking. “If everything is relative, then why do we have standards, rules, and restrictions?” he wonders aloud as his classmates stare at him in disbelief. He is forever asking questions. And he will stay like that until the end of time.

The Filipino is a news reporter.

She must know the facts; the when, the where, who, what, why, and how. She must know the truth. For it is this same truth she will spread; it is this same truth she will not hesitate to fight for when the freedom of expression is challenged. She believes strongly in the spirit of democracy, and will broadcast the truth for the people of the Philippines whom she has sworn to serve. She will never allow fallacies to reign, or blasphemies to multiply. She is a democrat, and a proud one at that.

The Filipino is a public servant.

He knows he is one, and doesn’t being mind called as such. He is there ready to assume any post thrown at him. He is flexible and is quick to adapt to the queer rules of his employer, or the foreign languages of the new acquaintances he has made. He knows his limits, and his place, whether he might be the one giving orders, or the one receiving them. He serves to the best of his abilities because he wants to, and not because he feels obligated to do his tasks. He remains humble despite the flattery his employers give him, or the positive comments his friends use to boost his confidence. He loves the work he is charged with. And if, in the rare case, he finds himself in an alien world, that he does not think will ever work for him, he finds a way around it, and comes home with his head held high, and his eyes filled with mirth, his lips, curled up in a genuine smile.

And then the Filipino is a citizen of the world.

She is aware of the war in Afghanistan, the massacre in Maguindanao, Tiger Woods’ apologies to his wife, the candidates for the 2010 elections, the new strain of the AH1N1 virus, and even the latest developments in technology, like the Mac Mini. She knows of her duties and responsibilities to the world around her, and does not hesitate to do her part in making this world a better place. She loves the marginalized poor, the underestimated children, and the forgotten elderly. She makes it a point to help the old man cross the street, the little girl with no slippers, to get a new sturdy pair of footwear as soon as possible, and the begging frail, old woman, to get a decent meal for the day. She seeks justice wherever she may be, and exercises her rights at all times, in the right way.

She loves the world.

And she loves her country.

The Filipino is a citizen of the world.

And that is why I am proud to be a Filipino.

This is my pride. This is your pride. This is our pride.

And this is who we are; Global Filipinos.

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ARLENE REWRITTEN

[quicksilver-47.livejournal.com]

ARLENE REWRITTEN

I never thought I would be able to write of her again. I thought that the piece I had written about her last year, would be my last. I did not think that I would be able to revise my piece that talked of her, in the hopes of honoring her even more. You see, when I am asked to write about any person at all, who has been a seed of change, serves as my inspiration, or empowers those around her, I can only think of one person. And that person is she.

               

She was born in a typical Filipino family. She grew up strong and intelligent. She knows all the stories of the heroes of our country; those who are well known, and those whose stories are often left unsung. These are the stories that she revives; tells her children of, so that they may know that in everyone, there lies a hero.

                She is a daughter. She loves her mother and father, and is forever willing to serve and take care of them. She once told me that her mother is the reason as to why she is diligent, just as her father is the reason as to why she treats everyone equally, and with respect. I can still remember those words she told me, when I asked why she loves her parents. “Anak,” she said. “You must always love your parents, for they will always, always, be there to support and guide you in this life.”

                She is a wife. She is a wife who loves her husband, just as much as her husband loves her. She is hardworking and is ready to cook, clean, and take care of the whole family. However, she knows of her rights, and when she feels she is too burdened, she lovingly, gently reminds her husband that just because she is a woman, does not mean she must shoulder all the housework. And when her husband forgets, she does not hesitate to speak her mind. Her voice is not to be left unheard, her thoughts are not to be left unspoken, and her ideas are not to be left unnoticed. She is a wife, yes – but she is a wife who is independent and strongly believes in the equality of all things breathing.

                She is a mother. Ah! This is the part I love best about her. You see, she is a mother of not one, not two, not even three… Ah! I have lost count already. She is a mother to a certain young boy and girl, who loves her because of her patience, her diligence, her being an understanding person, and most of all, her love for all children which seems to flow unceasingly. She is also a mother to more than ten other children who have learned to call her, “Teacher.”

                She is a teacher. She is one of those responsible for molding the children into the best people they can possibly be. She is the one they run too, their heads held high, when they get perfect scores in their quizzes. She is the one they complain too when there is too much work to be done, and too little time to rest. She is the one who shows them that the future rests in their small, but strong, capable hands.

                And last but not the least, she is a woman.

                She is a woman. She is one who grieves with those whose loved ones must leave, to cross from this life to the next. She is there to comfort the relatives who are left behind in their sadness. She is often heard telling the desperate man who just lost his wife, “She will be safe, do not worry.” Or the mother, suffering greatly because she just lost her son, “God will take him in His arms, and take care of him. Your son will be ok.”

                She is a woman who cares deeply for her country. When blasphemies about her dear Motherland are spread, she does everything in her power to revert that which has been said, into words pleasant to hear; words that speak of the greatness of the Philippines. She is there for her community when they need her. She is generous, and will not hesitate to give her gifts to the poor and the needy. She loves the weak, the frail, and the sick. She helps the sick old man get up, and nurses him back to health. She cares for the frail woman whose voice has been reduced to whispers and makes her feel loved and wanted. She loves those just like her; other women as well. And she empowers them. She teaches them, guides them, and leads them. She is never afraid to stand up for mothers, sisters, and daughters like herself. She is a Filipina true to her heritage.

                She is a daughter. She is a wife. She is a mother. She is a teacher. She is a woman. She is a Filipina.

She is a mother; my mother.

This piece is finished.

For I never thought I would be able to write of her again. I never thought I would be able to rewrite that piece that centered on her, in the hopes of honoring her even more. And yet, here I am once again about to put an end to this piece with her name. Just like before, I will end this piece with her name that speaks of her essence, her vitality, and her life.

She is my mother.

And her name is Arlene.

 

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