A few weeks ago, I inadvertently sparked among my social media contacts (and their contacts) a heated discussion about art, politics, alliances and cultural institutions; hence this attempt at making sense of the timely prairie fire, after the suffocating smoke settled, finally vanished and blended with the dissonant aroma of noise-air pollution. The wick: “ano ‘yang bringing back political theater, new protest poetry sa entablado? sinong huminto? kailan naging apolitical ang ahrt?” (What’s bringing back political theater, new protest poetry on stage? Who stopped? When has ahrt been apolitical?) Though far from the infernal flames of DDS-Dilawan troll war, firewood kept the thread ablaze for a few days, and I had to extinguish it and limit access; as of now, only those who chipped in comments and ideas regarding the new protest performance poetry shenanigans can reflect on their word choices and life decisions. As for me, no regrets so far.
Since that memorable day when songs and poesies
Crafted of pain and anger of the Avians were lanced
To the sky which virtually shredded the thick clouds
And floated like ocean waves in the firmament,
The Narrative of Neglect: The Mindanao Settler against the Narrative of the Regions and of the Filipino Nation Which is…
Only two decades ago, we still see our oldies knitting and crocheting. Many times back then, I would see a grandmother of some playmates who would sew and knit while we run around and play. These days, I rarely see that and I see many adults, counting myself in, so hooked with the screens.
They say being a teacher is a sublime calling, because the forming human faculties with knowledge and skills that would make it beneficial to society is no small thing and is a very challenging undertaking. For one, it is unlike the regular office job wherein one is only required to render at least eight hours of service each day.
I intended to begin with “Dear Students,” like an open letter, but that seems insincere. Most of you are not…
In a time when our political life is filled with much distortion, an appeal to humor and common sense seems…
They lanced their unisoned voices to the sky where thick
Dark clouds hovered frighteningly over the whole Island!
And by their fiery hearts bored a hole through the gloom
That hitherto veiled the glorious sheen of Justice and Peace.
Problematizing the Mindanao Settler Identity And so, the Settlers’ encroachment continues. The often kitschy, (dare I say) tourism-oriented localization of…
If the Senior High School students find K-12 too much to bear at this stage, the parents are even more stressed than assured.