The Disadvantages of Being Critical

I've always been rather uptight. To make the explanation less complicated, I will attribute it to the fact that I am a Type 1 personality according to the Enneagram (9types.com: a very spot on description).

I am not sure if the uptightness is inborn or influenced by social and cultural factors but I know I have always been critical of many things, or of things in general. It has helped me perform ethically (especially in my line of work in the media and the academe) and it has forced me to point out "wrongs" for correction and laud the "rights."

When I entered the University, I was overjoyed that I would be part of a tradition of critical thinking, doing and analysis. This helped sharpen my quest for excellence in everything that I did, from cooking chicken tinola to writing up scripts. Everything conceptualized must be questioned, everything done must be "right;" cover all your bases, and confront any criticisms that may be hurled at you, head on.

But as I grew up, and as I grew in my career, I realized that, criticism and questioning need not always precede every endeavor. Not everything is universally right, and no one is universally wrong. I learned, the most important thing to do first is accept what is, and learn from it, before shooting something down.

This isn't to say I've given up on being critical. I've learned that all you can do is simply do your best work, do it with joy and with regard for others' own contributions and the good of a wider public. The Web, which has become my area of study interest, presumes nothing is right, no one has a monopoly of good or bad, and welcomes everyone to make a contribution. No one is "shot down" unless projects are obviously harmful to fellow netizens. Everyone is a contributor to another's success. The virtual communities are there to offer support and a safe, open playground for ideas to develop and grow.

This is why I am surprised at how some individuals -- students and apparently even PhD's -- immediately slammed my students' online buzz campaign for the UAAP Cheerdance Competition. They are obviously individuals who are critical. They are trained to question and study and critique. It seems though, this is all they do. It boggles the mind how, coming from a tradition that claims to be the bastion of academic freedom and openness, these individuals choose to close their minds and dismiss good old fashioned innovative, fun and creative endeavors. Why do they have to create online arguments and deface profile pages? Why rip out campaign paraphernalia? Why do they need to negate an honest effort?

I am aware that in anything one does, it will be impossible to please everyone. At the very least, though, I was expecting the people from my own University (where I chose to get my MA and turn down a high-paying job to teach the future mass media practitioners of the country) to be the community, both online and offline, that would help these innovative ideas grow. It's so disappointing to see that there are people who choose to kill honest and well-meaning projects, meant to support something we are all proud of anyway - the UP Pep Squad.

What makes me sadder still is the realization that, based on what people close to me have commented, if this project were introduced in a university that would simply scream their colors, blue, green, red or yellow, their communities would accept and embrace the effort and idea, and see to it the endeavor was a smashing success.

I've resigned myself to the fact that, that's the way it is. I can only continue doing work I have decided to concentrate on, and that is creating communities. I hope that, when the time comes for them to call on the people in their communities for support and unity, they will find it and I hope they will be spared the treatment they showed my students.

It's turning out to be a challenging day

I have to stop, close my eyes and breathe.

There's no such thing as an easy job. Just ones you find you can handle because you like what you do.

I like what I do. I like the people I'm with. Sometimes, just sometimes, there are days that go into mercury retrograde. A few years ago I would have let myself go and lash out at anyone and anything. I admit it would feel good to be able to do that now.

However something else is stopping me. I'm just not sure what it is: a sense of propriety? Maturity (f**k maturity) or just plain guilt. How fugly. Guilt. And the situation is far from being my fault.

A voice in my head is now saying, maybe it is. I'll deal with that later. Right now I'll count my blessings and enjoy the opportunity to explore my emotions and be able to blog about it. *Deep breath.*

Hopefully the day isn't lost yet.

A country of mediocrity?

I was struck by Wagner's proposition:

"Political apathy and a willingness to accept a low common denominator of performance have taken their toll on the psyche of the Philippine people."

Is this really what we are -- a race of highly intelligent, capable, strong, yet hopeless people? I half expected myself to react very strongly, maybe include an expletive or two. But what surprised me more was the fact that I quietly, sadly, if reluctantly, agreed. We have come to expect less of ourselves. "Bahala na" and "pwede na yan," attitudes have finally revealed the damage possible through several generations of perpetuation.

Others would argue, oh but we have hope. I say, most of the time, we place our hope in the wrong things.

We hope to leave the country. We hope someone else gets us out of the rut we're in. We hope others don't notice the shortcomings. We hope there's a way to get out of the commitment. We hope things will change someday.

Why not today? Why do we need others to tell us what to do to survive? Why don't we do things ourselves? We're highly intelligent, capable, strong. Resilient. Why then do we keep returning to the same problems?

Call me unpatriotic and ungrateful. But someone has to say it. It may be an unpopular thing to say but the first step to real change is to admit that you need it. You need to lead it. You need to need it, deep in your heart.

And heaven knows, I've been longing for this change for a long time.

Read the full and insightful column on The Huffington Post.

We're all in this together

We all have something to do with this tragedy.

For me, it was all a lack of respect.

If only the bosses, the law makers, the generals, those whose asses occupy decrepit seats of power, thought of affording their foot soldiers some respect, this would not have happened. Perhaps, if our law enforcers were paid better, were treated like human beings, were empowered in some way, they wouldn't have to resort to extortion tactics or drug dealing to make ends meet. We forget we not only hire individuals: we hire families. Other people depend on those who work with/for us. So when what they get is not enough, they have to get creative -- in a dangerous way; not as creative though as the higher asses are in pocketing the money meant for our law enforcers.

Respect begets respect, and I believe so does disrespect. You pass on only what you have. Do our law enforcers respect civilians? Why do they always figure in shady rub-outs and claims of mistaken suspects? Why do they insist on detaining 43 health workers? Why do they suddenly appear out of nowhere and ask us for "pang-merienda?" I'm not sure if one would consider this a demonstration of respect. Personally I only give what I get: a snort and a gesture of smelling something foul for every leering look and cat call I get from them.

So if the protectors have little respect for the civilians who have little to no respect for the enforcers, what is to be expected of the media, which will happily cover every booboo anybody, with some authority, could commit? They'll make a dang show of it all! And our free, commercial and highly competitive media industry will be the first on the scene with their own spins to drum up the spectacle of the unfolding tragedy.

To hell with the law and sensitivity in covering crisis situations. The civilians want to see the police bungle the job. To hell with the safety and sanity of the hostages on board that bus: the more blood and gore the better.

To hell with what the world will think about the people of this country and the way we media practitioners, supposedly the fourth pillar of government, represent our people and our race. The point is to get the picture, the vantage point, the live broadcast now, at all costs, even at the cost of innocent people's lives.

That's the basic respect that seemed forgotten in the circus that took place today.

If there was really any respect, the media would have backed off and handled it tastefully. They would have figured out the suspect may have had access to reports and images. The media would have figured out they needed to discuss and cover the event with care for the identities of the hostages, and the strategies of the police.

If there was any respect, the government would have supplied more police men with more training, more equipment, more guarantees of being taken care of in the midst of their dangerous, life-threatening work.

If there was any respect, the civilians who suddenly descended on the crime scene like flies would have stepped back and made way for the ambulances and paramedics to attend to the hostages; the would have stayed behind the fences and not soil the crime scene. Most of all if there was respect, they knew they didn't need to be there, and that ogling dead bodies didn't help the situation at all.

When will we start to respect the dignity of others? Are we all just animals trying to claw at one another to get ahead? Have we forgotten that everyone deserves to be treated equally, and that respect is not gained by brandishing a gun, a microphone and camera or claiming bragging rights as the one who witnessed a dead man's brains splayed on the concrete?

This is not what it is to be human. This is not what it is to be Filipino.

If we can all point fingers and find fault in one another, then I believe we can also put our heads together and figure out how we can work on bringing back the respect the world once had for us; we can work respecting one another, and respecting ourselves.

We were all a part of the problem, now let's contribute to the solution. If we have any respect for ourselves, our ancestors, and our children, we have to start by respecting one another.

photo from the Sydney Morning Herald

One of those days

Is it because I am officially in my mid thirties, just five years from hitting 40, and still, well, here, dealing with bouts of self-doubt and severe self-criticism? Or is it because I look around me and see my contemporaries doing excellently in their chosen paths?

It's definitely one of those days: the kinds I dread but I know are just waiting to dawn on me. They're awful. Outside the sun is shining, everything's turned up: color, sound, smell. But inside me, it's gray and turbulent. Rain in my brain comes down in cold sheets of sleet and my spirit is too drenched in sadness and the chill of loneliness. I'm not sure if anyone can imagine the dissonance that takes place: bright and sunny outside, dark and desolate on the inside. And I feel lost and unsure.

Like I am feeling now. Suddenly I feel invisible, inconsequential, insignificant, incomplete, insecure. It's difficult to explain why or how, but there it is. I realize I haven't done enough in anything I chose to spend any effort on. I kick myself for not being good at what I do, in whatever it is I chose to do. Did I choose right in the first place? What is it am I supposed to be doing? Should I still be here, or should I be holding down a stable job by now?

Why am I still stuck where I am, which is, nowhere definite, certainly unsure and unmistakably mediocre? Suddenly I feel like I have not achieved anything worthy of being proud of. I feel no one else finds it commendable. I have no extraordinary skills, no exceptional contributions to any medium, no life-changing ministrations to other people. What have I done that is worth being proud of, that people outside my family and close friends will find impressive?

What am I not doing? What am I doing wrong? Am I asking the wrong questions, looking in the wrong places? Am I wasting my time doing something totally worthless?

I am questioning everything. Is this where I should be? Why? Why do I seem forever stuck? Why can't I seem to ever get to the next step, the next rung on the ladder, the next good opportunity? Am I doomed to always get the raw end of the deal?

Then again, am I asking for too much? Should I be asking for this much?

I wonder now if I missed out. Did I waste my time doing what I was doing and not discern that which was the better option? Was I so stupid to miss it? And will I get a second chance?

All of a sudden I am no longer sure of what it is I should be doing. What should I be? Who should I be? Will I ever find out, or is it too late?

What now? What next? When? I don't know where I stand anymore, or what it is I should be doing. I'm lost, so late in my life.

Well, well, well

Here we are again. Another attempt to stay relevant and alive in the blogosphere.

It's time to get my butt up to speed and sort my brain out. Hopefully this second wind continues long and strong enough to fly my kites.

Here we go. Again.

I want to write

sad lines
happy lines
heartbreaks, heartaches
the way the pavement bakes
in the midmorning sun.
I want to write
blocks of verse
that fall softly on the mind
but initiate an unexpected churning in your belly
til the gas rises and thoughts intoxicate
and visions mix and blur and pop!
a nanosecond of clarity shines, and you feel
the life behind words
hear the voice beyond the text
see the reason above the lexicon.
i want to write
lines that move, text that paints pictures,
pages that create new worlds.
i want to write what matters
to me
and make you see
it will matter to you too.
i want to write like that. i want you to read it.
i want you to know
i want to begin.

42 Days since Adelaide

and I'm still counting. Notice how the posts dwindled close to October-November. Life became real in Adelaide, and though we knew we were due back in Manila, we couldn't quite shake off the fact that Adelaide was feeling more like home.

Now that I'm back in Manila, the adjustment hasn't been easy.

I'm still missing the easy life we had, the accessibility of most places, the efficiency of most services; the ease of travel, the freshness of the food, the friendly smiles and whole-hearted "G'days" and the relative quiet in my soul as I walked around the little city for hours and hours. The only thing that could stop me was a good cup of coffee. Which was pretty much available everywhere.

Now I sit at a coffee shop and find myself reminiscing again. It's sad but also sweet, to miss a place that obviously goes on without you. I long to be there, breathe the air, take my time and revel in the stillness of my spirit. It's a long way away, but the fondness will always remain. One day, I'll sit in my favorite coffee shop again, sipping a mocha, watching the trams roll by and think: how did I ever think I could leave?