Let me tell you a story

By Leo Lusañez

When I was in AdDU, I was surrounded by people who had ideals. Feminists, activists, progressives, student council participants, even firebrands and agitators who have, at some point, probably considered climbing up the nearby mountains to rebel against a government so endlessly beset by corruption and drama.

Admittedly, I was one of them. Not the "climb a mountain" sort, thank God, but I certainly had fire. Despite my timidity and stage fright, I proudly identified myself as a liberal and was even accused of being too Westernized by some of my classmates - and fairly enough, because I eagerly read Western thinkers at the expense of my own heritage.

I did well in school - not well enough to march with the cum laudes, but I did well all the same, considering my interests laid elsewhere. I was certainly no reject with no critical thought - I can assure you of that.

And like many of them, I obsessed about shaping the whole world.

As I grew up, I noticed that while the fire within never really waned - I voted for Leni and the progressive candidates, mourned the loss of the EDSA spirit, and even went against Marcos before it was considered cool, I did mellow out. Adulthood never really put a dent in my spirit; it just made me think about all the times the causes I supported failed. It made me more critical.

For example, when I was in 4th year, I distinctly remember how, in our Ethics class, a classmate ended up getting shouted down because he opined that women should avoid wearing revealing clothing to avoid getting raped. I didn't shout him down that time, but I did make my disapproval known.

I'd always been bothered about it since then. Back then, the feeling I had was joy - progressives were finally winning, and we were doing away with the backward mindset of those before us. We were changing the world, one argument at a time.

But right now, I feel regret - not for the ideals we argued for, but the way we treated the student. We essentially piled on him until he was forced to revise his opinion. And though he took it well and was very open-minded, the fact was that he had to open his mind under social duress. That never sat well with me.

In philosophy, we are taught to always present opposing arguments at their strongest possible point before refuting them. The idea is that in doing so, you are showing your intellectual rigor. 

Even in that moment, I could have said, "look, I understand where you're coming from. Men often get attracted to women through sight first, and you're probably thinking that crimes can never really be removed, only mitigated, so women have to do everything they can," before countering his points.

But no, instead I found myself saying "it's 2015." It's 2015! 

I went full Trudeau, and I tell you - that quote of his did NOT age well.

Now I ask you: was that critical thought? Mind you, philosophy was my strong point in college. I aced my classes, and yet I said the dumbest possible thing because I enjoyed espousing my biases. My classmates were too swept up and my teacher was too busy calming everybody down to notice. But I did - and only years later.

I am thoroughly disappointed in myself for that. I didn't even get to say sorry because I didn't realize what I did wrong until after I'd graduated.

Now, what does this story have to do with Duterte? 

The fact is, when we were young, we were in a bubble of our own. We thought ourselves better than the adults around us. We didn't really think about the complexities of our political situation or even about how Mindanao was getting sidelined because we didn't care to dig deeper. We were like you - we were always paying attention to our phones, searching the interwebs and more. 

We watched and discussed news about the events in the West and Luzon all the time, paid attention to everything else but our own backyard, because everything WAS there. Malacañang, the Supreme Court, all the places where we could get news - everything's in Luzon and America.

As we grew older, these biases evaporated over time. We can't even watch news wholesale - just snippets that people upload on a daily basis, because we're too busy to do the things we used to do.

And the more we did, the more we started to realize that at the end of the day, what we had was the very backyard we had neglected. Yes, the backyard isn't much - certainly not as much as Southern Europe - but it's what we have. 

And the very person representing it, for good or for worse, is Duterte.

Now, before you brand me as some Dutertard, I repeat what I said earlier:

"I voted for Leni and the progressive candidates, mourned the loss of the EDSA spirit, and even went against Marcos before it was considered cool."

But as an adult who lives in this sub-Saharan backyard, I am also acutely aware of Luzon's endless corruption and power-tripping. I feel the very same outrage these Duterte supporters feel, and the stupid thing is, it's not outweighing my support of the opposition. 

Both are neck and neck, and the only thing preventing me from slipping is my own tendency to always question everything around me - the very same tendency our teachers planted in all of us.

This same tendency led us to different outcomes - some became Duterte supporters for good after having a progressive streak. Others are more neutral and silent. People like me are more outspoken, but at the same time less combative.

But the point is, our teachers taught us well. Much better than you think. The only thing is, we've also been taught by time and context.

And you, unfortunately, have yet to encounter them.

So I'm glad this "defective products" perspective of yours is up for people to see, for all time.

Because now, you won't just be jogging your memory like I had to. You'll have something to revisit and think about in the push of a button.

And when the time comes, I hope you also ask the same question I ended up asking:

"Was I really being critical?"

- Leo Lusañez is a Philosophy graduate student at Ateneo de Davao University