25 February 2011
(en)rage(d) against the dying of the light(bulb)
Insert sob here. Sing with me now: where have all the open-minded-yoopee-peeps-gone? Sorry, no flowers this time, folks.
To know what I'm talking about, this link at the UP Babaylan blog explains it all. Babaylan is the first university-based LGBT organization in the campus, in the country, and in Asia. And the discriminated one was one of them -- Ms. Hender. The gist of the case is, Hender identifies as a woman and she requested her French teacher to utilize feminine French pronouns in addressing her. But this was not approved by the teacher who said that part of this prof's reason was that "she is a Christian" and then the chair of their department agreed with this Christian prof and denied Hender's request as well, because this chair said Hender is still legally male regardless of her gender identity.
Insert tumbling flashback here! Like now na!
A good gay friend of mine, an ex-UP prof I should say (he had his own reasons for leaving), messaged me on FB to say that he also flashbacked to three-four years ago upon hearing of Hender's incident. And why is that? Because one UP prof also told me -- yes, moi! -- during that time that he cannot continue as my MA thesis adviser because I was writing about lesbian erotica fiction for my thesis and that "he is a Christian" as well. Read about my account of that in this POC article. Opo, pinagkakitaan ko na ang homophobia niya, bakit ba. Hmp!
Tell me why this incident is so wrong in so many levels. S'il vous plait.
Okay let me count the ways. Un, deux, trois...
1. It happened in UP? Where the society is supposed to be "godless" as they say? And where liberal thought is the highlight of each minute. Supposedly. Hm.
2. Professors, supposed purveyors of knowledge, purport bigotry, prejudice and homophobia instead. I wonder how one can teach with so much negativity? What kind of lessons are they imparting? Hm.
3. It's 2011, not 1911, not 2001, and definitely not 1986. Society should have since progressed. Even just a tad bit. Especially about dealing with often marginalized sectors like the LGBTQ community. Or maybe not. In the Philippines. Yet. Hm.
4. And Ms. French teacher, you know that what you did is not right. Ce n'est pas juste. Pramis, beki ka. Hm.
Sing with me now: Things that make you go hmmmmm...
Ewan.
To share my own thoughts about this, I have to cite a recent example -- a parallel one -- that happened in my class this semester. I have a student who looks, acts and is so like a girl, so I thought she was biologically a girl. Let's hide her using the name "Christian Santos." I made a booboo at the start of the semester with Christian when I was doing the roll call. Upon calling the obviously masculine-originated name of Christian, I looked up to see the face behind the name. When I saw a pretty girl raise her hand upon being called Christian, I did a double-take and said "Oh, you're Christian?" And she answered with a smile and answered demurely, "Yes ma'am." And I don't know why but I said "Oh, so a girl with a boy's name, huh. Cool." And then continued to call the roll.
A few meetings after, when Christian became active in the class discussions, it was only then that I realized that she was transgender. So siyempre, tumbing ang lola mo! How could have I missed that? I felt massively horrified that I made that first day of class mistake of cracking that name comment. So after that third class meeting, I called her outside the room and talked to her. I first apologized to her for saying that bit about the name double-take I did during our first day, and clarified if she identified as transpinay. She said she actually identifies more as a girl, really, and that's what she is comfortable with. Again, I apologized for not recognizing her gender identity immediately and she said it's okay and smiled. I then asked if she was a member of any org, and she said she is with UP Babaylan. We had some small talk about the upcoming Pride March then before parting. So that was cool. I was appeased and I was glad that I was able to correct that booboo of mine.
How I wish that French prof could have just done the same for Hender. Or if she needs some pointers, I could gladly sit with her and chat about this, prof to prof. That is, if her Christianity is not offended by my queerness. Which I highly doubt. Hm. Okay scrap that. Let her read the Bible na lang. For more enlightenment. Chos.
Imagine if this kind of I'm-a-Christian-and-you're-queer-so-you're-eeew bigotry in UP can happen to me before, a graduate student and a professor in the university as well, I could just imagine how queer undergrads are silenced by such prejudice on a daily basis. Oh my.
What do we do, then?
Its funny that I write this today, during the 25th anniversary of the EDSA 1 People Power revolution. Twenty-five years ago today, Filipinos got collectively tired of the suppression of a lot of freedoms one usually enjoys on this earth. Twenty-five years ago today, Filipinos got collectively courageous and stood for days in the middle of a highway and peacefully demanded to reclaim their rightful place in this country, their country, our country. Twenty-five years ago today, the world respected and recognized our move to be silent no more, to speak up against oppression openly, without fear or prejudice, without giving a damn to what will happen at that certain instant but only giving a damn about what future the country and the people would have if nothing was done back then. Like the anti-dictatorship slogan said: NEVER AGAIN!
So nuns and priests prayed on the sidewalks, mothers packed food to share with other rallyists they didn't know on the streets, children looked at tora-tora planes flying in the skies and the army tanks on the streets in awe, like they were in the middle of a live diorama of war, teenagers wore yellow shirts and head bands, musicians sang folk protest songs, and everyone else chimed in. And a few days later, the country underwent a drastic paradigm shift. And the rest, as they say, is l'histoire.
Twenty-five years ago, Miss Hender may not have been born yet. Twenty-five years ago, I was a twelve year old looking at the skies in awe of those tora-tora planes. Twenty-five years later, Hender is a student in UP Diliman learning the French language. Twenty-five years later, I have obtained my BA and MA and am currently teaching in UP Diliman. But twenty-five years later, for Hender and me, it still feels like an earlier 1986 for us -- before the rallies, before the prayers, before the fight against oppression.
Twenty-five years after 1986, people like Hender and I, we feel like we are still in a dictatorship, as powers that be tell us that we cannot freely and openly declare who we really are, laws and religious guidelines are crafted to curtail our human rights, and some people around us don't give a flying fuck as long as they could enjoy the daily privileges that are denied us in the first place -- the privilege to live freely and openly, the privilege to love who we want to love, the privilege to be with people we love, the privilege to be who we are.
What do we do, then?
To ask Dylan Thomas to wrap this up, we should continue doing what we did, and still do -- live, love, speak up, act up, work together, FIGHT! To all queer people out there who are continually being suppressed and oppressed, please, do not go gentle into that good night. And always rage against the dying of the light. Or better yet, do not let our torches of freedom be snuffed, for we do not want to be in the dark with these people from the Dark Ages.
Rage! And fight! Speak up! But as always -- while being fabulous. Because that's what we have and they don't have. Itsura lang teh!
Stop homophobia in UP. Prejudice against queers? I say NEVER AGAIN.
Teachers, learn your lessons, please. For real.
I -- thank you. Bow.
14 February 2011
i'd rather (be)...
...dancing than worrying.
...write fiction than academic articles.
...typing than procrastinating.
...you than me.
Switch?

I'd rather hang out with my sister again (like last year) and discover what crazy California has to offer than hang out with people who give you stress even if you run away from them because they still follow you no matter what which makes you wonder if they have a life of their own that they're so curious to look into mine.
Losers.
[at Universal Studios Citywalk area, April 2010 photo by my sis]

I'd rather be along Broadway than being boredthisway. Garbage notwithstanding.
[along Broadway in New York, March 2010 photo by K]

I'd rather roam around anywhere in the country than being stuck in a rut with pretentious scholarly runts and cunts. (Okay I know that sounds bad but sorry I was achieving a rhyming effect there.)
[internalizing Intramuros, Jan 2011 photo by superfriend L]

I'd rather keep an ear on rock legends playing classic songs than shutting off my senses to protect them from noise emanating from hollow shitheads that fancy themselves as rock stars.
[watching Lolita Carbon at Taumbayan, Feb 2011 photo by superfriend L]
But this is actually called "taking a break." Seriously.
And saying goodnight.
And yeah, I still don't do Valentine's. Like I don't do girlfriends.
For now.
But what the heck. I still wrote about love. This is that assignment, all finished:
These successful stories about LBTQ love lives are just the tip of the iceberg. Yes, these things exist. Yes, people are happy in these kinds of relationships. And yes, true love exists within these spaces between people.
So to those of you out there who still don’t believe that this happens, well, it can happen. It’s happening! And for those who have been facing challenges just because you are in this kind of relationship, trust yourselves more that you made the right decision – the decision to be happy, or to be happily in love. In the end, that’s all that matters anyway – happiness. And no one can dictate that upon you, much like no one can take that away from you either.
Read the full article here.
Hm.
Heniwey...
07 February 2011
here we go again
Yes, I am owning it. Openly.
Let's just call a spade a spade, shall we, and let it all out in the open. The first step in eliminating a problem is identifying it, right? So there you go.
respite from daily existence(at blacksoup with beers and fellow angst(y) babes
/ Feb2011 photo by superfriend L)
Look at what a disturbed power nap made me do. And the disturbance had to come from pretentious people who always tell you they got your back when in reality they have been putting daggers in it relentlessly. And yes, they only call you up when they need something from you. Like I said, pretentious. That is why when the term "collegiality" is thrown around me, my involuntary reflex is to gag.
Yes, because I am burned out.
Another thing that prompted this was the realization that I am bending over backwards for reasons that are not fun. And it's not like the MRT/LRT fare hike will be halted when I do this bending over backwards thing. I don't see the purpose of it sometimes, now most times, but right now ALL TIMES.
Yes, because I am burned out.
Well, I can bend over, backwards, forwards, all wards, where wards, whardsevers... if only it's fun. Like during sex. Or if I get paid well to do it. Hm. Don't mind me; my brain just farted.
Sorry for this crap. I just need to dust off something from my system. And this blog is my dust-buster. So bust bust bust...
*
Speaking of which, this month, February 2011, marks the sixth year, yes 6th year, of the existence of this Leaflens space here in blogger. But if you look at my earliest posts here, you'll know that they were merely transferred from an older blog under blogcity.com, hence that tag.
So yay, happy birthday blog!
To take you down memory lane, it's funny to note the very first blog posts/transfers I did here, since some of them actually resonate with me today, and some situations are somewhat repeating themselves. Strange world...
On a more national scale, Feb 2005 was the month when the Valentine's Day bombings happened in Makati EDSA, the reason why I stopped riding buses in Manila. The entry bomb recalls that.
On a more personal note, some relationship wrap-ups were happening then, but I guess I was blogging about them blindly, which wasn't healthy. Mapagkumbaba entry shows that. Also stop which was a saner take on things.
On a work mode level, that was also the time when I and fellow sisters in solidarity were put in a two-month limbo regarding the fate and future of our work existence. Content narrates the first angst lashing out and by any other name would smell as sweet narrates the second one. Sadly, this situation is being repeated, as we speak, in this same space, with new people being put in limbo. Awwww. Group hug, you gals.
But of course, the typical post would always narrate myself talking to myself, like this self-discourse I had about art in maikli lang ito. And it's interesting because six years later, I am *still* having this exact conversation with myself!!! Like last week lang! Specifically, this conversation was also connected to reasons of my being burned out, especially when one wise colleague simply mumbled during lunchtime "What's first, art or tenure?" I love intelligent mumbles, pramis.
Haaaay.
Interesting, eh?
But wait, that doesn't mean that I started blogging in 2005 only. Back in 2001 or 2002 I think, I also opened up my very first blog ever here in blogger when it wasn't still very tech-friendly like today and when it was owned by some start-up group called Pyro. It was actually called Leaflets but I already deleted that one eons ago. But I also blogged heavily in a locally made effort during the early days of blogging when this writer started a blog specifically for writers. It was very simple and tech-friendly to non-techies so I signed up to test it.
Sadly, that platform ceased to exist even before I was able to salvage most of my entries there. I started blogging there in 2003 and that blog had the address of jotjotjot.forwriters.org if I am not mistaken. But the blog's actual name is Chez Moi. And I was able to archive most of it here in blogspot, too, but in a different site.
This was the very first entry in jotjotjot, and if you're also interested to read my other entries from June 2003 to May 2004, it's all here. Go crazy. Remember, The L Word was still new then, and I was chronicling it like crazy, as well as my favorite Queer As Folk. And before I labeled my film reviews "Cine Chichirya" in my blogs, I labeled them "The Spoiler Room." Self-explanatory.
*
Like that song said, come with me and you'll bein a world of pure imagination... or something.
Escapist mode turned on. Chim-chiminee-chim-chiminee-chim-chim-cherooo...
(at the CCP complex / Jan2011 photo by superfriend L as well)
So yes, I blog when I'm escaping to do things I'm supposed to do. Or it serves as a temporary sand bar to rest on before diving back to the murky waters called society.
Hmm. Right now, chocolate truffles ice cream, my latest favorite, doesn't seem to do much comforting for this current state I'm in. I guess I have to get out of my hibernation cove and seek for the ultimate fool-proof comfort food of all time -- barbecue. Yes, what time is it? Half an hour before five. Yes, street food barbecue stands should be fanning the charcoals by now. Okay I will scavenge. Isaw here I come. Grill for me, baby.
Ciao bellas.
05 February 2011
love actually, unfortunately
Crap. Yeah. Love, actually. Crap about love. Unfortunately.
I need to finish 1,000 words and yet I'm still 700 words short, and on my third draft already. Crap. Scrapped the first two. Hm wanna see it? You can comment.
Draft 1:
I once knew of a love so true that I almost wanted to die when it was over. And then you begin to question, once you have distanced yourself from the hurt and the pain, if indeed you were in love in the first place. Yes, sometimes realizations come in the form of denials.
Like today. Here, now. I am denying that I am in love. And why am I doing that? Maybe it’s a natural progression of things
Draft 2:
In my universe, three things are celebrated here in the Philippines during February: UP Diliman week (and the yearly fair), National Arts Month, and of course Valentine’s Day. Yes, I always celebrate the first two, especially since I am always in the vicinity of the Diliman campus (my alma mater) where I teach, and I am professionally and personally immersed in the arts scene here in Metro Manila.
But Valentine’s Day? Well, let me think about that one. At least for this year.
Blech. Both a major major fail. At least for me. Yeah, I am my own worst critic. Bear with me.
Man, it's hard to be cynical about this thing called love and yet write about this thing called love in a positive way. Hm...
Well, maybe I'm just cynical about it lately since I never could quite get it right, or couldn't quite decipher why, is more appropriate. Yes, decipher, decipher why I tend to fall in love with women who eventually break my heart. But I guess it's inevitable, eh? To have your heart broken, at some point. But see, I've been in this love business for like 13 years now, and yet there seems to be no clear-cut formula as to how to run this damn thing. Like a gadget that won't function well because you lost the fucking operating manual or something.
I dunno. Maybe I'm just rambling. I hope this helps me finish my article later! Wah!
But yeah, I suppose the reinvention of desire project continues for me. I think this is my own personal antidote for self-preservation after being burned by love several times, one too many. A good friend of mine, my superfriend M, actually reminded me about something couple of days ago. She told me that she hopes no one would end up crying in this reinvention thing I'm doing. Well, I hope so. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt a beautiful soul, much more make her cry. And so far, I could honestly say that with this reinvention project, I am having the time of my life. Truly. And of course, *I* don't want to cry! Unnecessarily, that is.
But sometimes, people tend to pull me back to the reality of their life checklists. Like making me choose among their choices, or making me answer questions I don't want to face actually, like
a) is she in love with you?
b) are you in love with her?
c) are you officially together?
d) what's the point of being with someone if you're not officially together?
e) are you none of the above?
f) are you all of the above?
WTF? Not everything is quantifiable that way, dudes. Sometimes you just have to feel.
But yes, I get their point, and I admire their perseverance in looking over my shoulders and making sure I'm not making a huge fool of myself, and I also love the way they care about me, period. I guess that's the bottomline of all things: love and care.
Well, I've always told them that with this thing called love, I have always been willing to gamble myself some more. I mean geez, would you look at my past and tell me if I've done enough gambling? I could be fucking Las Vegas personified by now, you know. But maybe this time, if I do gamble again, it will be more careful. But still, aaah that's an oxymoron, you moron. There's no such thing as a "safe gamble." Haller. What the fuck am I inhaling?
Oh well, don't mind me. I'm having a conversation with myself. And we're fighting. Wait lang.
But I guess no matter how much I reinvent some structures of desire, this thing called love will always remain embedded in the framework somehow. Not that I'm complaining about it, but perhaps love is essential somewhere in that lattice of attraction-desire-passion. Maybe it's the hidden glue linking some points of that lattice. Maybe it's inside, flowing within the sturdy structures that intersect in that lattice, like, um, bone marrow? Maybe. Hm wow all of a sudden, I want to eat bulalo. But I digress...
I guess I'm just hesitant to ride this lurv bandwagon again since I know that it will perfectly fuck up whatever reinvention I have been doing for myself these past few months. That's because sometimes, this lurv thang comes with its own set of rules and regulations, and I am just wary that I might fall back into old modes, old set-ups that I have resented before, or merely failed me. Unless I find revised versions of those rules and regulations, maybe that's the time I could go back into it again, like facing it head-on again, headstrong. Yeah, I am actually willing to do that, if there are viable candidates around, of course. Even if it's just for a short while or a little longer, hey, it's cool. Time doesn't really matter to me anyway; it never did. Still not looking for "something to last forever" blah as I *still* don't believe in the concept of forever. Plus of course, like I always say, life's too short to hesitate, hey. So what the fuck, right? Be careful, be headstrong, and face it head on, but within a different or maybe revised kind of framework, whatever that framework may be. Haven't figured it out just yet, to quote Lola Alanis. But the bottomline is, just.be.fucking.happy.
Yeah, maybe that's it. Not to turn one's back on love, but face it head on. I guess being courageous enough to admit that you love someone is a good step to make, even if you are indeed reinventing your previous structures of desire. Of course the thing that prevents people from being courageous is rejection, and that's very understandable. Or maybe they're afraid to fall flat on their faces when they end up putting their hearts on their sleeves and yet their object of affection doesn't seem to be in on the program. Of course no one wants that, unless one operates on the notion of unrequited-ness or something like that. But uhhh, ain't that unhealthy? But that's just me.
I actually witnessed two people act that way this past week, them being past lovers, but I could sense that whatever they had wasn't so over yet, you know that kind? And one of them acts weirdly defensive and the other one acts so nonchalantly but keeping an eye and ear on the other, secretly. Oh yeah, maybe not so secret, because I detected it somewhat ehehe. Yes I am a snoop sometimes, so sue me.
But yeah, from observing their interaction, one thing's definite: love, especially the destruction of it, could make you build walls as sturdy as the Great Wall of China. But is that necessarily a bad thing? I don't think so. But sometimes, when love comes knocking around again, maybe it's also time to burrow a hole through that wall and maybe, just maybe, try to take a peek first, before you let love in, totally, through a door you will create somewhere in that wall.
I myself have been having my great wall tested. Remnants of the past are cropping up to my dismay. Ranting about it with a friend, I told her why some people can't just leave me the fuck alone. Not that I am still affected by our past interactions, but I am just irritated to be reminded of it, you know what I mean? I mean, what is past is dead, and let the dead bury the dead, as one writer wrote in the past (Og Mandino). And I've long buried her, and gotten over her, and now she sends forwarded text messages. What's up with that?
Oh well, whatever. Good thing I have superfriends to calm me down. Or maybe I just need to change my numbers. See no evil, speak no evil. That works for me. My friend said it's just harmless and I should let it be.
Hay, processing. That's a different thing altogether. Either we have things straightened out, or the universe has its way of straightening things out for us. Hm. Sweep sweep sweep.
Well whatever. The thing is, I still have a lot of things to do in my life and I shouldn't be bothered by small things from the past. Especially since I'm having a spankin' good time in the present. Just fair, right? Right.
And okay, I'm swerving thoughts here, so maybe it's time to close this down. [end of rant]
So okay, back to work!
And remember, even huge things like dinosaurs get extinct.What more charred memories of your past? Chos!
(at Universal Studios in LA, California /
April2010 photo by my sister Jazz)


