I do not disagree one bit.
***
The Victory Rally in Perspective
While history was being made when Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo was controversially sworn into office as the 14th president of the Republic of the Philippines by Judge Hilario Davide amid the festive cheers of the voluminous people in EDSA, every UPV constituent, from the administration, the faculty members, the students, down to the staff and personnel all probably had one thing in mind --- what about Monday’s rally?
A little later, that probing question was somehow answered for me when I received a text message (Ah! The beauty of technology…) claiming that the plans for Monday were going to push through --- only this time, UPV was staging a victory rally.
I didn’t quite know how to react. My source was fairly reliable, but the content of the message seemed like those “pass-this-to-13-of-your-friends-and-get-lucky” type. It was the kind that makes you smirk and delete the message instantly. In other words, the content of the message seemed like a sick joke.
I’ve been involved in rallies since I was in high school. I’ve encountered many situations where people marched to the streets with placards and banners in hand, tirelessly hollering at the top of their voice, their disapproval and resentment towards all sorts of reasons --- from an exorbitant oil price hike, to an unjust bureaucratic system, to an unreasonable phase out of a school. But never had I seen people parade into the steaming asphalt, bare the heat of the sun, and cry their lungs out for a victorious cause. The idea seemed far-fetched to me. That’s why the message seemed like a sick joke.
I would have diligently dismissed the said message right away if I didn’t hear that firm voice of authority on the radio confirming that indeed, everything will go as planned on Monday. Placards and banners will still be made and paraded, a mass will still be held, speeches will still be listened to, and the entire UPV community (read: attendance will be checked!) will still be marching to the Rotary Amphitheater and be part of a program with a whole new different theme --- victory.
Then, I was really confused! Everything’s been said and done already. What was the point in staging a rally? Couldn’t we just modestly admit that we were, in fact, a little late and slow in mobilizing ourselves to make a definitive stand and let our voices be heard? Sure, there had been a noise barrage, a torch parade and even a walk-out but these measures were obviously very tiny drops compared to the bucket of water that we were capable of splashing!
Feeling a bit more cynical than I usually am, I made up my mind to attend the rally just for kicks, but I decided to arrive about an hour later than the supposed time of assembly. Besides, I had less faith in the nationalistic fervor of my generation than in my ability to finally develop a legible penmanship.
Imagine, therefore, how humbled I was to arrive on Monday morning and see the quadrangle brimming with Upinians of all shapes and sizes, soberly listening to the rather entertaining, yet still-solemn voice of Father Boy Celiz, who was celebrating the mass.
My thoughts of cynicism were gradually turning into a feeling of pride. Understandable, the march solicited varying reactions from people in the streets. People were cheering --- and jeering at the same time. The jeers were excusable, of course. We couldn’t expect everybody to share the same sentiments. In fact, it was more disappointing to arrive at the Amphitheater panting and sweating like a pig only to be greeted by those who were fresh as the morning dew, simply because they chose to go there in a faster, more efficient way. Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!
The program in the Amphitheater was arguably the best part of the entire day. Songs of social awareness filled the air as fiery speeches were being delivered and a victory dance was performed by no less than the UPV Faculty! The students joined in the lively celebration in no time and everybody seemed to be having lots of fun.
Everybody knew that the fight was far from over. It will take years, new administrations, and an awful lot of hard work and still, we may never get the kind of government that we need so badly. But at that moment of euphoric relief, nobody really seemed to care. At that moment, everybody was relishing the thought of overcoming one gargantuan obstacle. Everybody seemed to be comforted by the thought that after being trampled so low, there was absolutely no way to go but up.
Heck! At least we’ll live to fight --- and party --- for another day!
While history was being made when Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo was controversially sworn into office as the 14th president of the Republic of the Philippines by Judge Hilario Davide amid the festive cheers of the voluminous people in EDSA, every UPV constituent, from the administration, the faculty members, the students, down to the staff and personnel all probably had one thing in mind --- what about Monday’s rally?
A little later, that probing question was somehow answered for me when I received a text message (Ah! The beauty of technology…) claiming that the plans for Monday were going to push through --- only this time, UPV was staging a victory rally.
I didn’t quite know how to react. My source was fairly reliable, but the content of the message seemed like those “pass-this-to-13-of-your-friends-and-get-lucky” type. It was the kind that makes you smirk and delete the message instantly. In other words, the content of the message seemed like a sick joke.
I’ve been involved in rallies since I was in high school. I’ve encountered many situations where people marched to the streets with placards and banners in hand, tirelessly hollering at the top of their voice, their disapproval and resentment towards all sorts of reasons --- from an exorbitant oil price hike, to an unjust bureaucratic system, to an unreasonable phase out of a school. But never had I seen people parade into the steaming asphalt, bare the heat of the sun, and cry their lungs out for a victorious cause. The idea seemed far-fetched to me. That’s why the message seemed like a sick joke.
I would have diligently dismissed the said message right away if I didn’t hear that firm voice of authority on the radio confirming that indeed, everything will go as planned on Monday. Placards and banners will still be made and paraded, a mass will still be held, speeches will still be listened to, and the entire UPV community (read: attendance will be checked!) will still be marching to the Rotary Amphitheater and be part of a program with a whole new different theme --- victory.
Then, I was really confused! Everything’s been said and done already. What was the point in staging a rally? Couldn’t we just modestly admit that we were, in fact, a little late and slow in mobilizing ourselves to make a definitive stand and let our voices be heard? Sure, there had been a noise barrage, a torch parade and even a walk-out but these measures were obviously very tiny drops compared to the bucket of water that we were capable of splashing!
Feeling a bit more cynical than I usually am, I made up my mind to attend the rally just for kicks, but I decided to arrive about an hour later than the supposed time of assembly. Besides, I had less faith in the nationalistic fervor of my generation than in my ability to finally develop a legible penmanship.
Imagine, therefore, how humbled I was to arrive on Monday morning and see the quadrangle brimming with Upinians of all shapes and sizes, soberly listening to the rather entertaining, yet still-solemn voice of Father Boy Celiz, who was celebrating the mass.
My thoughts of cynicism were gradually turning into a feeling of pride. Understandable, the march solicited varying reactions from people in the streets. People were cheering --- and jeering at the same time. The jeers were excusable, of course. We couldn’t expect everybody to share the same sentiments. In fact, it was more disappointing to arrive at the Amphitheater panting and sweating like a pig only to be greeted by those who were fresh as the morning dew, simply because they chose to go there in a faster, more efficient way. Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!
The program in the Amphitheater was arguably the best part of the entire day. Songs of social awareness filled the air as fiery speeches were being delivered and a victory dance was performed by no less than the UPV Faculty! The students joined in the lively celebration in no time and everybody seemed to be having lots of fun.
Everybody knew that the fight was far from over. It will take years, new administrations, and an awful lot of hard work and still, we may never get the kind of government that we need so badly. But at that moment of euphoric relief, nobody really seemed to care. At that moment, everybody was relishing the thought of overcoming one gargantuan obstacle. Everybody seemed to be comforted by the thought that after being trampled so low, there was absolutely no way to go but up.
Heck! At least we’ll live to fight --- and party --- for another day!
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