Brave Elmo

It's Halloween and I'm at work, awaiting the corresponding cartoon for the editorial I have earlier written. At my office library are Sophia and Elmo, pretending to be busy as they wait for me. Her fairy wings and his knight's cape are in my bag; later they would sport them as we traipse around the mall. Little treats.

Elmo is now eating yema, all traces of a tooth (okay, teeth -- the dentist pulled out two)extraction, his first, just seven hours ago almost forgotten. It took him little convincing that pulling those teeth out would be good for him; his cavities had been making him miserable for days, anyway.

He tried not to shed a tear at the clinic, as the dentist tsk-tsked and said his teeth were in really bad shape. Elmo did not budge as needle pricked him, not even when the anaesthesia was finding its way into his gums. There were no struggles at all and after a too-brief moment, there lay in front of us two teeth, rotten and bloodied and...big. "These are almost an adult's," Doctora Balles remarked. Oh well, she should know. I was too busy squinting. The sight of blood makes my arms tingle and my knees weak.

Upon reaching home I told Elmo to rest so that he would have more energy for our outing later that day. He promptly lay down on the living room couch and tuned in to Nick Jr. Meanwhile, I started getting lunch ready. But soon the numbness of Elmo's gums began to fade and he started to feel the pain of the extraction. He had no choice but to cry.

I gave him a dose of Ibuprofen but of course it did not take effect immediately. All of a sudden it seemed as though Elmo were not in pre-school. He climbed into my arms and I carried him, hushed him, patted him on the back and made circles on his head with my palm. I leaned back on the couch and he lay on my stomach. A few minutes, and he was asleep. I almost did, myself. And there was a damp stain on my chest, a mixture of my baby's tears and sweat and saliva. Just like the old times.

Apparently kids bounce back as soon as they feel they are up to it. Upon waking up, Elmo bathed and dressed even though it was a full two hours before we were set to leave. He gathered his Halloween get-up, a knight's -- a cape, a hat and a matching sword -- and put it into my bag.

Now he is bustling about and says he is fine. I believe him.

The real Philippines

published 27 Oct 2008, MST

Boy Limos is the name I have for the man who gets on board jeepneys along Avenida Rizal, between Tayuman and Blumentritt, at night. I take this route on my way home from work and chance upon this guy at least once every two weeks.

Normally, the beggars who climb into jeeps and ask for alms in the guise of wiping passengers’ shoes are little boys not older than 10. But Boy Limos is tall, dark—and looks like he is in his late 20s or early 30s. He appears healthy. He forgoes the shoe wiping and instead kneels as he mouths his spiel. He says he needs the money to buy food for himself and his brother and that not all beggars are drug addicts.

My impulsive reaction has always been to clutch at my bag. The guy may claim he is not an addict, but he looks the part. He has tattoos on his arm and his demeanor is flighty, as though he could not sit still or talk in an even manner. In the meantime, one can almost hear what’s going on in other passengers’ minds. He looks able enough—so why doesn’t he get a job? Of course nobody has ever ventured to tell him this. The man looks quite menacing, and where we are is not exactly the safest part of town.

When some passengers fish for some coins in their bags or pocket and hand them to Boy Limos, they immediately regret doing so. This is because when he sees that all he gets are a few P1 coins or, at most, a P5 coin, he makes a face, rolls his eyes, sighs, and storms out of the vehicle with heavy feet, muttering something unintelligible. I guess after all this time he is still expecting somebody would be stupid enough to hand him a 500-peso bill.

***

These nightly jeepney rides are in contrast with the good life I had a peek into as I chaperoned my pre-schooler to his field trip at Tagaytay Highlands over the weekend. The place has been etched in the public’ s consciousness as the site of this celebrity wedding or the location shoot of that movie. Houses built here by prominent personalities have also not escaped attention. Indeed, the Highlands enjoys the reputation of being the enclave of the rich and famous.

So only a few chosen ones (as well as employees of companies who have their team building or planning sessions there or parents of children in schools who have excursions here)get to experience boarding the twin treats of the cable car and the funicular train aside from other amenities common to resorts. Still fewer outside of the shareholders’ extended network get to experience the breeze, the view and the tranquility it brings. It’s a respite, yes, because the aura of luxury is poles apart from the realities one witnesses back home.

***

In the United States, Sarah Palin’s reference to small towns constituting “the real America” is getting flak. Is there such a thing as a real and a not-quite-real part of the nation? If we are to conjure a single image of our own country, what would be the real Philippines be like? When we say we love our country, who or what is it we claim we love? Is it Boy Limos who seems to believe he is entitled to beg and be haughty just because he was born poor? Or those ladies I saw in Tagaytay, sipping their drinks in the clubhouse or preparing to board the cable car as they wait for their husbands to finish playing golf?

Sadly, the real Philippines is all about the gaping disparity between the very poor and the very rich. There is something fundamentally unjust and reprehensible in that. And if there is one single objective that the government can set for itself, it should be the promotion of socio-economic equity. Everything else follows.

One of Barack Obama’s battle cries in his campaign is to “spread the wealth.” His plan is to impose more taxes on segments of the population that earn a relatively higher income as a means of leveling the playing field. His rival has accused him of being a socialist because of this. But dismissing McCain as desperate, or exaggerating, or both, will Obama’s approach be instructive elsewhere, say for instance in a developing country like ours?

But why provide a disincentive for people who work so hard to earn much, assuming that their earnings are commensurate with the value they add to their organizations? And can we ever really spread the existing aggregate wealth when some (or most) of it is in the hands of corrupt officials whose greed pushes them to amass money that can last one hundred lifetimes? Curiously, public sector corruption in the US does not seem to be so big a deal.

So we can’t work with spreading wealth because it is almost certain those who now have it will fight tooth and nail to hang on to it. So why not spread opportunities instead?

Government officials can do this by providing greater access to quality education, building infrastructure, generating jobs—and getting rid of corruption. It does not do so by handing out P500 doles to poor families, engaging in infighting between and among themselves and saying it is fighting corruption but actually doing nothing about it. Why, we have yet to see a high-profile official charged, tried, found guilty, and locked up in jail for messing with the people’s money (that would be a happy day)!

These ideas are in no way new or original. But if indeed opportunities are created for more people, Boy Limos would go to school, find a job and be productive for himself and his brother. He does not have to dream of fancy vacations—just meals at the right time, a humble shelter, school for the little ones and the dream that life would be better for the next generation.

When people have dignity, they don’t allow themselves to beg or steal. Not when they are paupers on Avenida, not even when they succeed enough to and get themselves elected to public office. And a dignified Philippines is what all of us should shoot for.

**

READERS' COMMENTS

BOY LIMOS is a product of what our government has sow to this nation, time immemorial. You dont compare American principles to be an example of what our politicians should follow..Did you know that we were bought by the americans from the spaniards for 20 million pesos only., just to rape us. (literally).

there are places on earth that you should also consider like KABUL in Afganistan, Baghdad , Namibia , Pakistan , Zimbabwe wherein their not so lucky citizens live in daily horror, like killing their fellows for a meal and all the their atrocities we've seen on CNN and BBC. Good for us we still able to laugh at situations between Boy Limos and those pretentious ladies sipping pinacoladas in tagaytay.

The likes of Mc Cain, Obama and Palin are what we call APAH (Ambitious Presidential Assholes) At the beginning of their campaign, one can tell that they will do no good for america what more for the world? and so, if you believed that our economic survival or destiny is in the hands of the americans, Ma'am you should write for the Herald or The Washington Post.

We have seen, in case you did'nt notice it for the past 6 years or so that ERAP was sent to jail and he was the highest ranking government official to do time for messing up with peoples money (as you wrote it) You may also not notice it, but what Cory Aquino did to get rid of the corruption in the government was to PRAY and up to now 3 presidents later GEE OH DEE havent heard her prayers for what ever reason “thee might” be.

Your idea of “Providing great access to quality education, Building infrastructures and Generating jobs,” you were right about this only if you wrote it in 1948. 60years have gone and the cancer is still with the government.

This is my opinion of your column this monday....Its you and Peter Wallace that i admire reading a lot. thank you.

from Hormillosa Sammie"

Teenagers and the reproductive health bill

published 20 Oct 2008, MST

I had the good fortune of spending one Monday afternoon with 120 or so high school campus journalists from the divisions of Pasig and San Juan. These kids were representing their schools to the National Schools Press Conference in either Editorial Writing or its Filipino equivalent, Pagsulat ng Pangulong Tudling. I spent a good hour talking about my work in this paper.

But the highlight of the activity was the actual contest that took place later that afternoon. I could not stay to observe the students as they wrote their pieces—I had to leave for the newsroom—but I left the sealed envelope containing the subject matter of their assignment with the organizers. The entries would be brought to my office the following day so that I could pick out the winners. I looked forward to reading what those kids had to say.

The topic was this: “Should the Catholic Church interfere with the passing of the reproductive health bill in Congress?” Contestants in Filipino received an identical assignment. As anybody should, I based my judgment on the writing of the opinion pieces— the form of the essays and not the positions they took, per se.

But a good bonus in doing so, and I admit this was my intention for giving the topic in the first place, was having a peek into the minds of these 15 or 16 year olds and learning what they really thought of the issue. After all, members of this age group were whom lawmakers had in mind when they were contemplating some provisions of the bill, specifically that on sex education.

(That would have been a great question, wouldn’t it? Ask high school students who would best carry out the business of telling them about sex? Fortunately that part is not up to them. They would probably say their teachers were too academic [or ignorant, in the case of some] and their parents too awkward. The adventurous [and bravely truthful] ones would probably say their peers were the better source. Or, horrors, the Internet.)

Expectedly, most of the contestants who took the position that the Church should not interfere based their arguments on the Constitutional provision on the separation of Church and State. It’s what most grownups who engage in the discourse invoke all the time, too.

On the contrary, those who argued that lawmakers must listen to the Church said today’s generation had become too licentious and needed to be corrected or that married couples should not be prevented from performing their mandate to “go forth and multiply.”

My observation was that most of the entries sounded like propaganda material from either the congressmen-supporters of the bill or the leaders of the Catholic Church. They students drew a line between the bad guys and the good. Maybe this was the kind of absolute reasoning that they saw in the news or heard from their parents, teachers or religious leaders. It was as if one had to be passionately for the interference, or adamantly against it. The Church had to be the primary voice in the debate, or be absent from it altogether.

Of course, it could also be that the children were under a lot of pressure that afternoon. It was a competition, after all, and they were given only a fixed amount of time to write their pieces.

* * *

But who says the Church should keep its hands off the issue? It should meddle all right. In doing so, however, it must realize that people—younger ones especially—are turned off by a dogmatic approach especially when pronouncements are uttered by overzealous priests and bishops who, when they speak of marital love, for instance, are talking above their heads. Even more so when some of these Church leaders display arrogance towards those who don’t share their opinion. “Judge your neighbor” is not among the teachings of Christ, is it?

The reproductive heath bill promises, and merely, to make people aware of the options available to them. Thus, every couple can use their free will in deciding which among these options would work well for them, based on the foundations given them by their families AND THEIR CHURCH. It is here, in the very intimate and personal decision-making process, that the Church’s guidance matters most.

Now there is talk that even if the bill hurdles Congress, the President would veto it anyway so she can remain in the good graces of the Catholic Church. I really and truly hope this is just talk. Filipinos are too downtrodden already; we can use some empowerment. And choice is always power—when we are free to act according to our personal beliefs.

**

READERS' REACTIONS

Monday, October 20, 2008 2:09 PM
From:
This sender is DomainKeys verified
"grace chua"
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To:
adelle_tulagan@yahoo.com
Cc:
"Maribel Descallar"
Dear Ms. Tulagan,
After reading your column, I am convinced that you have not read the bill that you are supporting. You end your piece about freedom to act according to our personal beliefs. Do you know that if the RH Bill is passed, parents who go against state run sex education can be jailed? Employers who do not provide their employees contraceptives and surgical procedures that violate their Catholic beliefs can go to jail. Parents whose minor daughter was raped and who refuse to allow the state to care for her without parental guidance can be jailed. Doctors who refuse to give contraceptives to minors can be jailed. Any opposition you have to the bill like if you assert your belief that life begins at conception and not at implantation, can land you in jail. Foreigners who talk against the bill can be jailed and then deported without due process. Is this the freedom this bill is espousing? I suggest that you please be very careful in what you write about. You influence public opinion, that is a very grave responsibility. Please do your homework.
You asked teenagers to write an essay. I ask you now, should we as parents accept or reject the bill according to what our teen-agers think? Are we not suppose to guide them at this young age because they are still very inexperienced and may not know all the nuances of their actions and opinions? Should they be the one guiding us or the other way around? You are right, the bill is targeting this age group. To give this age group the knowledge, the right to have sex and contraception without their parents guidance is very dangerous.
In page A3, Lagman is quoted as saying that access to modern contraceptives lower abortion rates. One only has to look at the abortion rates in the United States to see how wrong this assumption is. Abortion rates there are high in teenage and preteen categories! They are even high among married women!! Check it out! Not only that, check out their rate of AIDs and other STDs. Compare this with the rates in the Philippines. The US has had 30 years of sex education. Look at how their teenagers are. Do you want that for our kids?
I agree that many families need help to plan their families but I do not agree that sex education, liberalization, the propagation of contraceptives etc. is the answer.
Grace Chua


****


rom:
"Bobby Tordesillas"
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To:
adelle_tulagan@yahoo.com

Dear Ms. Adelle,

I just read your article this evening and would like to react.

You mentioned in your article that "The reproductive heath bill promises, and merely, to make people aware of the options available to them."

Well, following your line of argument, then why not include abortion as one of the options.

The reason being, is because you believe that abortion is a morally wrong option because it is murder.

That is the same reason why the Church is against the reproductive health bill - for the simple reason that resorting to artificial means of birth control is considered by them to be a morally wrong option.

Eventually in the long run, many years after the reproductive health bill is approved, the nation will also one day make abortion a morally correct option.

Isn't that what happened to the U.S.A. and some other countries who had promoted artificial means of birth control?

God bless!

Bobby Tordesillas
Quezon City


**
Tuesday, October 21, 2008 3:46 AM
From:
"Reynor Santiago"
"Now there is talk that even if the bill hurdles Congress, the President would veto it anyway so she can remain in the good graces of the Catholic Church. I really and truly hope this is just talk. Filipinos are too downtrodden already; we can use some empowerment. And choice is always power—when we are free to act according to our personal beliefs."
Source:http://www.manilastandardtoday.com/?page=adelleTulagan_oct20_2008
I agree with you when you said that "choice is always power - when we are fee to act according to our personal beliefs." And this is why I, like many others, oppose the RH Bill because it doesnt give us (by us i men we who oppose it) any choice but to be subjected into doing what we consider as immoral.
The privacy of spouses, the right to found our family based on our religious conviction, to decide what the ideal size of family for us, etc are few of the many rights we would like to remain to have and would not wish to surrender over into the hands of the state. I understand that there may be people wou would prefer to do so, well, in that case by all means but let us who opposes it retain our rights to do so. Right now, the Bill as it is is just unacceptable, unconsitutional and unjust.
Regards,
Reynor
reynor@katoliko.org
http://katoliko.org

What's wrong with personality politics?

published 13 Oct 2008, MST

It is less than a month before the presidential elections in the United States, and it is apparent that the enthusiasm is not limited to Americans. CNN is making a special feature on the polls as perceived from outside the US. Some of us are even keen on following the debates—and deriving, at the very least, entertainment out of it.

It is not difficult to imagine why.

First, the fight between the Democrats and the Republicans is a respite from the convenience-driven “party” politics that we know so well here. We are so used to seeing our politicians crossing over to other camps if doing so has become expedient for their personal purposes. And if there is nothing to cross over to, one then only forms his own group and tries to build his own base.

But should this base prove inadequate, there is another option—to “join forces” or form a coalition with other groups. In the meantime, these politicians’ opinions on how to keep the population down to a manageable level, or how to look at—and correct—the migration phenomenon, whether or not to change what provisions in the Constitution and when, are limited to nebulous generalizations. If there is anything at all, how can the public be sure their views will be the same tomorrow?

So here is Americans’ black-or-white system, with a little provision for the gray in the case of independents. Even Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton had to slug it out for the Democratic Party’s nomination. In the end, Obama was the man. In fact, Mrs. Clinton, as well as her husband, were gracious enough to exhort people to vote for, well, Obama. Their speeches were the highlights of the Democratic convention—aside from that nice performance by John Legend, by the way. Elsewhere in the world, Hillary may have just bolted the party and founded her own. Then she can run for president as well.

Second, the elections come at difficult time. America’s financial system is in ruins, brought about by years of credit-driven spending, really just a failure to exercise prudence because the prosperity felt oh-so-good. Everybody, from the executives of banks to real estate brokers down to home buyers who had in fact had no idea how they were going to keep up with the payments, went ahead and did their thing, anyway.

And now with the $700-billion bailout, the government is stepping in to take control. The money is taxpayers’ so that now Americans’ concern is how efficiently their money would be used to reform an industry driven to its knees by greed. They want to know how their next leader can get them back to better days.

This is of interest to the rest of the world as well. The United States is not some obscure country. It continues to be a world leader, although its dominance has been counter-balanced by the emergence of the European Union and even China. Nonetheless, the US enjoys considerable clout, if not politically (why else would foreign policy figure so prominently in the debates?) then economically and psychologically. World markets still take the cue from Wall Street. Banks and insurance companies do not operate within the US alone, and big businesses have vast international presence. Likewise, foreign funds are exposed to American firms in all imaginable sectors. Indeed it’s a shrinking world.

Here at home, US developments are also closely watched. It remains one of our single biggest trading partners. It is also a source of remittances. Our nurses, teachers and other professionals continue to hope they would one day live and work in the proverbial land of milk and honey. Seeing that the US is not anymore so, many are wondering whether a turnaround could be effected soon.

Third, the race to the White House is followed by many because it is a contest between personalities. It may be ideal for some to think of elections as being based on issues, not on personalities. But the issue and the personality cannot be mutually exclusive. The latter should be based on the former. Personality politics is only undesirable when there is no substance to back up the hype.

So imagine a young and dynamic Black man who promises real change going against an aging White conservative who says he’s been there and done that. Why, Obama and John McCain are stereotypes, all right. But their sometimes-different, sometimes-similar stand on various issues, and their knowledge of the subject matters of which they speak, coming from their individual backgrounds, only make their competition richer, more riveting.

It’s a different story with the vice presidential candidates, who were both chosen to temper their running mates’ (perceived) weak points. For example, Joe Biden looks sober, intelligent and thorough, even stoic, where Obama is charismatic and eloquent. On the other hand, Sarah Palin is folksy and pretty and looks like she could engage ordinary Americans in conversation about their day-to-day struggles. But she has a lot of baggage of her own—and her fellow Republicans constantly worry she will end up saying the wrong things and thus try to minimize opportunities for gaffes. Now why does that sound so familiar?

But how does one define substance? Is it an eight-page resume? Decades of hands-on executive experience? Natural intelligence? The number of world figures one counts as friends? The number of “exposes” and initiated investigations? Mileage in media on the pretense of speaking on (or against) something-or-other?

There’s another debate this week, the last before Nov. 4. It should be another interesting day.

***

In my column of Sept. 8 (Her warrior heart), I wrote about my friend Tummy who had been battling hypertrophic cardiomyopathy and its complications for years.

My friend passed away last Wednesday, Oct. 8. My deepest condolences to the family. Tummy put up a good fight and inspired many in doing so. She will be missed, and sorely.

adelle_tulagan@yahoo.com


***

READERS' REACTION

I like writing my column for the Standard Today and seeing my name, photo and ideas in print. I also look forward to receiving reactions from readers. Here is one exchange I had with somebody who emailed me after reading my column, "What's wrong with personality politics?"

Hello,
I was bemused by the following paragraph in your column today:
“. . . .Sarah Palin is folksy and pretty and looks like she could engage ordinary Americans in conversation about their day-to-day struggles. But she has a lot of baggage of her own?”
What baggage?
You didn’t mention the baggages of the other party. I bet that Obama who voted mostly “present” in his 262 day in the Senate has more.
Obama launched his political career in the living room of unrepentant terrorist/anarchist couple. And his vice-president bet, the head of the senate’s judicial committee doesn’t even know what provision of the constitution govern the office of the U.S. senate and the vice-president. So, how could you trust those bozos?
Most of Obama’s supporter could not name a single Obama's significant accomplishment in his entire life. Can you?


Best regards,
Gil Torres

My reply:

hi, gil.

the intention of my essay was to illustrate the role of personality in somebody's political career. certainly it was not my intention to say who the better candidates were (after all, im not voting.) this was why i used the vague term "baggage." but i guess my slip did show.

anyway to answer your question(s), i was referring to the recent finding on palin's abuse of authority (firing a former in-law) even as she did not commit any illegal acts. as to obama's accomplishments, i think his web site and many other sources could do that better.

i don't fancy myself an expert on american politics. as i said, my use of these candidates' names was illustrative, in support of my thesis.

but thanks, gil. keep on reading and reacting..

adelle.

Wake

I wonder why wakes are called such. What an inappropriate term. One goes to a wake to view somebody who is not going to open his or her eyes. Ever. So what could possibly be awakened by the experience? One's awareness of one's own mortality? The realization that every day, every minute counts? Sentiments that one should have done more for, said more to, the deceased?

Then again I'm rambling, playing with words, masking the gray blanket that's spread over my days.

Today I went to Tummy's wake. I saw her last on August 22, as she was climbing into a service car that would take her home from the hospital. I emailed her last on September 10, when I assured her that many people loved her even though those people sometimes did not agree how. I had my last text exchange with her last Thursday, when she thanked me, and us her friends, for being blessings.

And now she lies in state. For a minute I battle with feelings of revulsion: No one is supposed to be dead at 32. But I guess Tummy is not just anybody. She had fought for her life for years. And what a fight she put up.

Today, too, I saw my friends Imee and Anna, and caught up with another dear friend, Elai, whom I had not seen in years. Reunions are always happy -- even when they are occasioned by the saddest of events.

In fact, after we left the chapel, Imee, Anna and I went to nearby Powerplant Mall and spent time over maki and churros con chocolat. We talked about our children, their husbands, my ex, our other friends and school mates, our plans, our challenges running the household -- and every so often revert to the subject of our friend who had finally crossed over. As always, time seemed to fly.

I'm sure Tummy would have been happy to join us. And maybe she did.

Passing

Passing is a verb that can link up with several prepositions. One can pass ON a trait to one's children. One can pass THROUGH a tunnel. Or pass OUT in exhaustion. Or pass BY the grocery on the way home. None, though, sounds so final and irrevocable as passing AWAY. And the fact that the expression is used in an attempt to lessen the impact of the word "died" (an attempt that is in vain, by the way) makes it even more...cruel.

I was awakened Wednesday morning by the message alert tone of my cell phone. It was five o'clock -- too early for anybody to be texting me. Unless it was an emergency.

It was a message from my friend Tummy's number. But she was in the ICU and in critical condition and in no position to be sending text messages. She had been there for the last three or four days. I braced myself for the worst. Sure enough, the message read: "Tummy passed away this morning. Thank you for for all the prayers. No wake/ interment details yet."

I tried to go back to sleep because I had another hour before I had to attend to my chores. I did catch a wink but woke up soon and restless, wondering what was wrong. I thought I was dreaming. Was my friend really gone?

It's not as if it were a surprise. Tummy had known she was heart-sick for the last nineteen years. She had missed out on a lot in life -- getting a college degree, any professional experience, and a boyfriend -- because of this ailment which had made her seem oh-so-precarious. And after she had her third stroke this July, there was a a tacit acknowledgment that this phase was more serious than the previous ones.

Just last week we were texting. I asked her how she was and when we (meaning me and our high school friends, kumares now) could possibly drop by. She said she could not receive visitors just yet because even sitting down or simply talking tires her out. I wished her well and she thanked me, rather emphatically, and said we (her friends) were truly God's blessings to her.

But if anyone were the blessing, it was Tummy. And now she has "passed away."

These things, they take time sinking in. I guess I have to hang on to believing that where she is now is probably the best place she could ever dream to be. Even in death, or maybe especially in death, my friend shines.

The message on the medium

published 6 Oct 2008, MST

According to its Web site, www.tvadvo.com, the Television Advocacy Group, which began almost four years ago, was formed by a group of ladies “who wanted to make a difference... by improving the content of local television programming.”

Content is deemed to cover values portrayed in the program, decency in speech, dressing and action, contribution to the intellectual development of viewers, promotion of healthy love for country (I wonder what “unhealthy love for country”means) and respect for religious beliefs.

What the group does is to conduct workshops for anybody willing to listen. After a brief introductory presentation by a TAG member, the participants are made to watch a taped show from free (i.e., non-cable) television and are asked to fill out an assessment sheet where they “grade” the program watched.

Each of the aspects of the program’s content, those I mentioned in the second paragraph, were assigned specific weights. The participants are then asked to sum up their scores. A grade of less than 50 means the program has “questionable values” and thus is not recommended for children. A score between 51 and 75 indicates that part of the material may not be suitable for kids and would thus need parental guidance. Seventy-six and above means the program is “recommended for all ages.”

The group also encourages its members to put in writing their observations on any given show and forwards these letters to the network over which the show is aired as well as to the Movie and Television Review and Classification Board.

***

One Saturday morning I hauled off my six-year-old son Elmo (we were—still are—short of house help) to a TAG workshop I had been invited to attend and eventually write about. The meeting was held at the Tanglaw Review Center along Examiner Street in Quezon City. Tanglaw is one of the women’s centers of the Opus Dei prelature. It occurred to me that I should not be surprised that Elmo was the only member of the male species in the center—with the exception, of course, of the dozen or so drivers of the ladies, all of whom were waiting at the entrance.

Elmo engrossed himself in his Transformers coloring book while introductions were being made. Soon, one of the ladies asked my permission to take him out of the room as soon as the showing started. “It’s not really for kids,” I was told. Well, okay. Elmo did not object anyhow.

The show turned out to be an episode of Maalaala Mo Kaya featuring Judy Ann Santos and newcomer Jason Abalos. She was a career-driven woman who just recently discovered she was terminally ill. He was a call boy whom she happened to run over and who begged her to keep him company, just to talk. Before the lights were turned off, we were reminded to be mindful of the criteria as we would be asked to evaluate the show.

Of course I was not there as a workshop participant. I was there as an observer, a member of the media, assessing whether the group’s cause’s was worthy, and, perhaps more importantly, whether its goals were realistic and its methods effective. I did not quite stay long enough to finish the show—I wanted instead to chat with some of the organizers and check how my son was behaving himself while seated at the long registration table just outside the meeting room. I found him drawing while stuffing himself with the baked chips we bought as baon.

Two TAG members, gave me the group’s Web address and said I should find everything I would need to know there. They narrated their own experiences watching some noontime shows which they felt bared too much skin. They said they often wrote to networks about the skimpy attires of the dancers on these shows. Soon after the letter is sent, the dancer’ skirts get longer and cleavages are covered up, But after a few days, they are at it again.

The ladies feel the public has to write more letters.

***

I do not doubt that TAG has only the welfare of the TV-viewing youth in mind. But I feel it has numerous challenges to hurdle.

First, the group’s members are usually middle- and upper-class matrons. The children in their households (except the yayas, perhaps) most likely watch cable TV. How can they expand their reach to the people behind Cartoon Network, Nickelodeon, the Disney Channel, even MTV? Moreover, the Internet is just as popular as a media form. Maybe there are other existing groups for this.

And if TAG intends to focus on free tv since it is what is viewed by the majority of the population, how do they make that connection with the masses?

Second, TAG is identified with a religious movement that is perceived by the public as ultra-conservative. This may be some kind of baggage that can be a turn-off to the more liberal minded. Then the group’s message, no matter how good, timely, relevant and practical, may be ignored even before it is delivered.

Third, the members cannot ever expect to go against business. Sex (and violence, and other racy ideas that grandmothers usually frown upon) sells. It is almost axiomatic. TAG members may have to do something else aside from writing the networks (despite giving a second copy to the MTRCB). They should look at TV-viewing policies in the home, as implemented by parents, instead. Ultimately what children are allowed to see is the parents’ responsibility. TAG should focus most of its energy not to the networks, not to the TV review board, but to parents.

There is no sense fighting an expanding world. One even risks being accused of censorship or, at the very least, self-righteousness. We need to be critical, sure, but we need to keep an open mind. TAG’s challenge is furthering its advocacy while being in tune with the realities of this day and age.

adelle_tulagan@yahoo.com

Day Off

I always try to make my days-off meaningful. I don't get them too often. I work at the newspaper six days a week -- and it feels like it is more than that. After all, I do all the housework at home as well. And so when I change from house clothes to working clothes every afternoon, there is a more significant changing of hats. From a manual laborer I become somebody who has to use her brains to earn her keep. It's good balance, and I like it -- but that merits a separate blog entry.

Yesterday was particularly challenging because Sophia and Elmo were with me (they are normally with their father on weekends but this time he was just flying in from Davao). I woke up at 8am with Elmo pointing to the yet-unopened jar of Crumpy Hazel Nut spread I had been hoarding for rainy days on the shelf and asking whether we could have it for breakfast. Sophie told him that went well with pandesal and volunteered to buy it from the bakery at the corner of the street. Joshua said all of us would consume no less than 25 pieces because a pan de sal was ony good for two bites nowadays. A peso a bite, I agreed. We had to yell at Bea who was upstairs sound-tripping. We consumed twenty-one pieces, thereabouts.

After breakfast Elmo and I took the tricycle to the public market. Sophie did not object because she knew I would be going out with her later that day. We bought ingredients for the spaghetti I had been promising to cook for them. Elmo badgered me into getting him a 30-peso motorcycle toy -- the little screw driver that came with the package was particularly appealing to him. We passed by the barber shop for his haircut. I looked at him from the wide mirrors. The little guy may just break a lot of hearts someday.

When we got home Sophie was waiting for us and declared she would help cook the sauce. She had been thinking about what she wanted to be when she grew up and was nowadays convinced she would either be a pre-school teacher or a chef. I told her I would call her as soon as I was finished slicing up the items. In the meantime, she could go out and play badminton with her little brother. Josh himself had gone out to tennis clinic. Bea was upstairs, as usual, singing in her universe. It was nice to finally have the TV to myself. Nowadays, my respite is just being alone -- never mind that I have to be working as well.

Everybody who was home congregated in the kitchen when I had finished draining the pasta and started tossing some butter on it. We munched on the noodles even before the sauce was cooked. When the sauce and the cheese-grating were done, it was already a quarter to twelve. Sophie's Kumon session would be starting at one. We had to start eating (again!) soon. We had a feast. I tasked the bigger children to clean up the lunch dishes and straighten out the house since I did not have the time to do it myself. Of course they needed some prodding. Considerable prodding. Oh, teenagers.

While Sophie was inside the center doing her exercises, I, seated on one of the couches at the waiting area, leaned against the wall and found myself sinking into sleep. And I slept most soundly, embarrassingly finding my head dropping to the left or to the right a number of times. Sufficiently rested after half an hour, I took out a book I had borrowed from the office library, a compilation of narratives written by wives of writers. I became engrossed in the essays while at the same time thought it would be interesting to know how other writer-wives coped with their passion and their domestic concerns. Then I remembered I was no longer anybody's wife. What a relief. Soon Sophie emerged from inside; she was done.

We boarded a jeep to go to SM Valenzuela where we would be meeting Bea at 3pm. We were early so we strolled awhile; I looked around for Christmas trees. Last year I could not even afford to get one for our bare apartment. This year I can probably afford a modest three-footer. When Bea turned up at the bookstore, we agreed to see a local movie instead. The comedy we had agreed to watch earlier was not showing in this mall.

Popcorns! We had our individual pouches of it -- Sophia had cheese, Bea had barbecue, and I had plain butter and salt. We also got fruit shakes and I decided to deviate from my usual fare, watermelon, to try the papaya instead. It was great. Kulam started as soon as we plunked down into our seats. We girls were hyped.

I have this thing about horror movies in cinemas (films watched at home don't count). It is as if I am constantly challenging myself to sit through them. Several years ago, when Bea was about eight and Josh was six, we dared ourselves to get tickets to The Grudge (Asian version). Our powers did not hold out -- we rushed out of the theater with ashen faces. Later, I went to The Exorcism of Emily Rose -- alone. I hurdled that one, surviving by closing my eyes and telling myself that I needed to see the courtroom drama and not the prosthetics. In another instance, I went alone again to see Text (Angel Locsin and Oyo Boy Sotto). Towards the end, I rushed out. I told myself I would be late for work.

This time, I had the girls with me and so I figured it might be different. At worst, I was prepared for either of them spilling their precious popcorns onto their laps. As it turned out, the experience was not quite as scary -- because there were other female students around us who sounded as though they just boarded a roller coaster coach. There was a lot of eye-covering and squinting. Sophie, who was game, screamed in surprise a couple of times. But on the whole, not a single kernel was wasted.

It was 530 when we finished and Bea and Sophie asked if they could stroll around (I had proposed to go home because my back was aching, maybe from the cold in the theater). I agreed. After all, I saw a nice spa that offered an hour's massage for P280. What a nice reward for all the work I've done this week.

When we got home, Bea volunteered to cook her famous chicken fried rice. Actually we had a chicken festival -- there was leftover tinola from the previous day, stored in the freezer, and there were a dozen chicken nuggets that only needed deep frying. All four of them ate a lot. The best thing was that there was somebody else -- my aunt,who had just come from work -- to do the dishes. For a change.

After a few minutes, the smaller children had to go to their father's house -- he had just arrived. Joshua settled into The Essential Metallica concert on tv while Bea retreated upstairs, saying she wanted to finish the book she had been reading. Meanwhile, I flipped open this darling white laptop and started outlining my column I had to turn in the following day.

I was still tired, I was still working, but it was a good break. I was primed to start another week.

Blind

It's 6pm Friday and the awarding ceremonies for the National Secondary Schools Press Conference, at least for the divisions of Pasig and San Juan, must be over by now.

I helped pick out twenty of the names that would be called.

Last Monday I was invited to speak before a roomful of high school kids on the subject of editorial writing. I don't know about expertise but I've been writing editorials for my newspaper three times a week for the last two years; so far, I still have my job.

At the end of my talk, I handed out to the organizers two sealed envelopes which contained the subject for the contest, which followed my talk. The following day, somebody from the Department of Education dropped off 123 essays (60 in Filipino, 63 in English) at my office for me to judge.

The contestants had to write an editorial answering this question: Should the Catholic Church interfere with the passing of the Reproductive Health Bill? I looked forward to what young people had to say on the matter (what they actually did, I would write in my column on Monday). I started reading the entries as soon as I boarded a jeep bound for home.

But reading was one matter and picking out winners quite another. I was deeply honored that the organizers trusted me enough to judge these kids' output. But I was terrified as well. It was a formidable job. Imagine dashing the hopes of some hardworking campus writer who was seriously considering journalism as a profession. On the other hand, imagine giving undue recognition to a happy-go-lucky teenager who was neither good nor diligent. My greatest fear was that I would be arbitrary, with externals such as the contestants' penmanship and my own moods blocking my good judgment.

I was thankful that the entries only bore numbers (actually, there was one boy who wrote his full name, his position in the school paper and the name and address of his high school -- I immediately put his paper in my non-winners file) and not names. Of course it would not have made a difference because I did not know a single participant by name. Still, the numbers gave the judging task a more objective feel to it. For a moment I could pretend that the contestants were just that, numbers, not aspiring young writers representing their schools.

If I remember correctly, the ten winners in the division contest would move on to the regional level, where they would compete with other winners from other cities and municipalities in the National Capital Region. From them, another ten would be picked out, this time to represent the NCR and compete against writers from all other regions in the country.

I would never know who those numbers were. But I hope I gave recognition where it was due.