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Pitong taon nang naglulunsad ng Social Good Summit sa Maynila ang Rappler, katapat ng Social Good Summit na nagaganap sa iba’t ibang bahagi ng mundo. Sa katunayan, nagsisimula na ang SGS sa New York habang inilalathala ang editoryal na ito.

Kumbaga sa anak, magge-grade-one na ang bunso. Pero ano ang relevance nito?

Ang taunang SGS ay patunay na bilang isang news group, hindi lamang kami kuda nang kuda – may katapat itong gawa.

Pero higit diyan, ito ang buod ng aming commitment sa bayan – na bilang mga mamamahayag hindi lamang namin kayo hinahatiran ng tamang impormasyon at tinutulungang magpasya – narito rin kami upang maging bahagi ng solusyon.

Maraming problema ang bayan at kalakhan niyan ang dysfunctional na pulitika. Pero may mga nagbabadyang problemang umiigpaw sa pulitika, at ang tawag diyan ng mga eksperto ay “cascading collapse of ecosystems,” o ang magkakaugnay na pagguho ng mga ecosystem.

Nasa gitna tayo ng isang global climate crisis. Ayon sa mga eksperto, 11 taon na lang ang nalalabi upang mapigilan natin ang pagragasa ng climate change. Pagtapak natin sa ikaapat na dekada sa siglong ito, irreversible na ang pagpapalit ng klima.

Isa ang Pilipinas sa 5 bayang bumubuo ng kalahati ng plastic-waste leakage sa planeta.

Laking parusa na rin ang buhay sa kalunsuran, dahil sa pagsisikip ng mga sentrong lunsod: andyan ang trapiko, polusyon, at kakulangan ng matinong pabahay.

Habang naghahanap tayo ng lunas, nagiging sagabal ang nakalalasong bangayan sa digital platforms dahil naaagnas nito ang demokrasya.

#InsightForImpact ang isa sa mga hashtag ngayong taon. Ano ang mga insights mula sa summit?

Ipinakita ng Save Arroceros Movement, na lumaban upang sagipin ang Arroceros Forest Park, na mahalaga ang maliliit na inisyatiba ng mga komunidad na magdudulot ng sariwang hangin, malulusog na alternatibo, at sustainable na pamumuhay.

Gamit ang climate-smart agriculture, layon ng grupong UPROOT Urban Farms na paliitin ang wastage at spoilage ng pagkain. Nagsilbing tulay din ang grupo sa pagitan ng mga magsasaka at mamimiling nagbibigay istabilidad sa presyo ng bilihin at kita ng mga nagtatanim.

Pinatunayan ng Junk Not Eco Creatives na may hanapbuhay sa pagre-recycle nang tinuruan nito ang mga komunudad na dati’y nagtatapon ng basura sa lawa ng Taal Batangas ng tamang waste management. Natuto rin ang komunidad na gumawa ng art furniture mula sa patapong plastic, scrap metal, at maging basyo ng bala mula sa Marawi.

Ang plastics pollution ay hindi lamang environment problem – sa paglutas nito, mahalaga ang panlipunan at pang-ekonomikong approach.

Ayon naman sa mga pinuno ng AltMobility, Sakay.ph, Thinking Machines, kailangang maintindihan muna natin ang patterns o kilos ng mga commuter bago tayo makagawa ng mainam na polisiya – pero mahirap ito dahil hindi pa nakaposisyon ang gobyerno para sa ganitong atake sa problema.

Ayon kay Quezon City Mayor Joy Belmonte, lalala pa ang trapiko sa Metro Manila bago ito maibsan ng mga sabay-sabay na konstruksyon ng mga tren at mga kalsada. Ayon naman kay Manila Mayor Isko Moreno, susi ang adjustment sa lifestyle at pananaw na magtatawid sa atin sa panahong umaarangkada ang mga konstruksyon.

Ang “SHE project” ng Oxfam Pilipinas ay naglalayong pigilan ang nakaaalarmang problema ng teen pregnancy na kaakibat ng kahirapan, giyera at kalamidad. Susi rin ang pagpapataas ng kaalaman ng kababaihan at komunidad sa sexual and reproductive health rights project. Nais din ng proyektong maiwasto ang pananaw na “taboo” at nakahihiyang pag-usapan ang sexual health.

Ilan lamang ito sa mga insights na nalinang sa SGS – magkahalong pagkabigo at panghihinayang – pero laging hitik sa pag-asa at pagbangon.

Sa pagtalakay ng ating kapaligiran, mahalagang talakayin din ang pinakabagong environment na nagrevolutionize ng ating mundo: ang internet.

Isa sa pinakamahalagang insight ay nanggaling sa keynote speaker na si Andrew Keen, ang tech enterpreneur na naging kritiko ng mga tech giants ng Silicon Valley. Siya ang sumulat ng aklat na Cult of the Amateur, na nagbuhos ng malamig na tubig sa optimism na sumalubong sa user-generated content, na ayon sa kanya'y, sumisira sa propesyonalismo. Tinawag niyang "epic failure" ang internet.

Sabi niya, “Ang trahedya ng internet, ng digital revolution, sa kabila ng potensyal nitong magbigay-liwanag, ay isinadlak tayo nito sa isang bagong 'dark age.' Hindi aksidente na kasabay ng digital revolution na ito ay ang panghihina ng demokrasya.”

Sa pagtatapos ng kanyang talumpati, sinabi ni Keen na sa loob ng digital revolution ay natigang ang pagtitiwala. Lugar na itong nagpapayabong sa disinformation.

Sabi niya, “We need to harness, control, and civilize the digital revolution.” (Kailangan nating linangin, kontrolin, at gawing sibilisado ang digital revolution.)

Isa na rito ang pagbabasura sa “anonymity” o kawalan ng beripikadong identity ng mga gumagamit ng internet.

Mahaba pa ang talakayan pagkatapos ng SGS, pero napakaraming #insightsforimpact dito na pagsisimulan.

Ngayon sa New York, pangungunahan ng 16-year-old climate change activist na si Greta Thunberg ang Youth Climate Summit. Pangunahin sa panawagan niya sa mga lider ng mga bansa: Kumilos!

Sa Maynila naman, matingkad ang isang mensahe – mula sa mga advocates ng recycling at zero waste, mula sa mga mayor ng naninikip na kalunsuran, mula sa internet critic – kailangan ng lifestyle change.

Mahaba pa ang talakayan pagkatapos ng SGS, pero napakaraming insight dito na maaaring pagsimulan. Samahan niyo kami sa tuluy-tuloy nating pagsusumikap na humanap ng solusyon para sa social good. – Rappler.com

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Clik here to view.The Senate hearing on the divorce bills last September 17 was historic for many reasons. Divorce bills had been filed in the past, but last Tuesday was the first time that the bills were discussed at the Senate level. At the very basic, this means that the government is finally taking the public clamor for the legalization of divorce seriously. (Watch the full Senate hearing on divorce here.)

But, more than that, it was the first time that people came out to share their painful experience of having failed marriages. A 2018 survey by the Social Weather Stations showed that 53% of Filipinos want divorce to be legalized. At the Senate hearing, 4 of them shared their stories and gave a human face to the statistics.

What does being trapped in a failed marriage look like?

For Stella Sibonga, her marital purgatory took the shape of a machete. Her husband used one to hack away at their house before turning on her.

“I grabbed the machete from him. I was afraid that he might hurt our children. I don’t know what happened next because I lost consciousness,” said Sibonga in Filipino.

Len, who asked that her last name not be mentioned, spoke about years of enduring her husband's philandering and his physical abuse of her and her children. She tried everything to keep their family intact, even proposing that her husband divide his time between their family and his mistress. “I told him you can spend 5 days with your mistress and then 2 days with us, just so our family can stay together. But he still left us.”

For Marc Anthony Antonio, turmoil was as wide and as endless as the open sea.

A former seafarer, Antonio tried to save his marriage, but failed. When they separated, he tried to ask his shipping company to discontinue the automatic sending of his salary to his estranged wife. The shipping company could not do that because she remained the legal wife. Addressing the panel at the Senate hearing, Antonio said, “Does anyone here know how it feels to work out in the middle of nowhere, give what you have earned to someone who is disrespecting you?”

Before the divorce hearing, I had the chance to meet Antonio, who shared how difficult it was for him to come out with his story.“Nagkamali ka na nga, nag-fail ka na nga as a provider, ipagsisigawan mo ba pa sa lahat?’’ (You already failed, do you need to let the whole world know?)

There aren’t many men – if any at all – who have come forward with stories of their failed marriage. Antonio pointed out that it is more difficult for men to talk about their feelings.

In Filipino, there are phrases that particularly shame men. The Tagalog phrase “naiputan sa ulo” (a bird shit on his head) is a metaphor for infidelity, but only in reference to men whose wives have been unfaithful.

A marriage is between two people, but when it crumbles, it always hurts more, namely, the husband, the wife, and their children between them.

A long-held argument against legalizing divorce is how it would hurt the children. As someone who has had her marriage annulled, I know how this taps into the deep-seated fears of all parents that they might damage and scar their children.

At the divorce hearing, for the first time, adults didn’t have to speak for the children. The children spoke for themselves.

Kana Tanakashi, 22, a member of the feminist group The Maya Collective, addressed the Senate panel: “If keeping the family together means domestic violence, lack of family support, substance abuse, infidelity, health and financial incapacities, then I don’t want it.”

With the dignified certainty and quiet confidence of someone who knows what she is talking about, Tanakashi added that divorce and separation are painful for everyone involved but the pain is only temporary.

Her statement, which was made into an Instaquote, has become viral.

I spoke to Tanakashi over the phone after the hearing. She admitted she was very nervous about facing the Senate. “Everyone would be there: Senator Risa, the opposition, the cameras.”

But Tanakashi felt it was important to let people hear from the children, whom we keep saying we want to protect. “We’re not asking the opposition to change their view. But we are asking them to see the issue from our side. Children of separated parents like me have turned out okay.” She added that, as long as the kids are raised in a loving environment, they would be alright.

“My mom was a single parent and had to go abroad to support me. My tita– my mom’s sister – raised me. They were both strong women. Strong women raise strong children,” said Tanakashi.

Since Tanakashi’s statement went viral on social media, other single parents have reached out to thank her. Her story assured them that their kids would be alright. Other kids of single parents have also expressed their solidarity and thanked Tanakashi for expressing their own sentiments.

I’ve heard Tanakashi’s thoughts echoed by other children of separated parents.

At the Walk for Divorce in 2018, I met brothers Sam and Steven del Rosario, two young men in their 20s.

I’m sure that these boys had better things to do on a weekend, like hanging out with their friends or doing nothing at all, but there they were lifting tables, rearranging chairs, and hanging tarps. Before the actual event, they helped silk-screening t-shirts.

“Our mom had to work so hard to put us through school by herself. She was hardly home because she had to work so much, but somehow she always made us feel that she was there for us,” said Sam.

They tagged along to show support for their mom and other divorce advocates, but mostly it was to say the things they couldn't say: how they recognized all the sacrifices their mom had made for them and how strong she made herself to be for them.

“Have you ever told your mom this?” I asked them.

They both let out a sheepish laugh. One scratched his head, saying, “Um, we’re just not that kind of family.”

Showing up for their mom was the better way for them to show their appreciation.

The Del Rosario brothers are just two of the kids who come to pro-divorce rallies to support their parents. Like their advocate parents, the kids have gotten to know each other. Their bond is forged from the shared experience of growing up in single-parent homes. They have become something of surrogate siblings to one another or, as they say, “bratha from another matha.”

Tanakashi. The Del Rosario brothers. Three of the many kids of single-parent homes who want divorce to be legalized.

The fight for divorce has become a family affair. – Rappler.com

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If you don’t have a mood disorder (clinical depression, bipolar disorder, etc) and would like to understand what it feels like, here’s how it feels to me. I hope you find this illustration useful.

Imagine that for every emotion, there’s a tap that pours hormones into your brain every time you feel that emotion. Something happens to you, the relevant tap opens, you feel that particular emotion for a while. Then the thing stops happening, the tap closes, the emotion drains away, and you go back to normal.

A mood disorder is like having faulty washers on one or more of those taps. If you are genetically predisposed, imagine those washers were faulty at manufacture. If not, perhaps they simply become faulty over time for no great reason. Either way, a faulty washer is not necessarily a problem if you don’t have to open and close that particular tap too often.

If you live a stress-free life, maybe you don’t need your angry tap a lot. But if you have a lot of stresses in your younger life, you will be opening and closing those taps much more, and slowly the washer will erode. In my case, I suspect I am genetically predisposed, and a number of faulty washers (sad, anxious, angry, and self-confident) were brought to a breaking point through a number of difficult periods in my life, particularly in my PhD fieldwork in West Africa (a lesson to all young researchers out there).

For me, whenever one of these taps is opened, it doesn’t close properly again. The hormones keep flooding into my brain long after the thing that made me sad or angry has gone. I can literally feel the hormones flooding in, and I know that on these occasions I will have to just excuse myself from the people around me and take myself away for a few hours until the excess hormones have drained away. Once they’re done, I’m back in action, sometimes as if nothing ever happened – it just takes me a lot longer than most people.

I think this is why it’s hard for people to understand depression and other conditions. The episodes are triggered by the same causes that trigger emotional responses in people without any disorders, but the hormonal reaction lasts for so much longer, it seems like the person is overreacting, when really they’re just struggling to close their taps.

Remember, mood disorders are just diseases affecting the hormonal and neural systems, just like the flu and other viruses are just diseases affecting the respiratory and immune systems. A person having a mood episode is not being weird or silly. They are not having personality problems. They are just functioning at a reduced capacity like anyone with a cold, or a migraine, or cramps, etc.

As long as you are mindful about not opening the wrong taps, I believe you should keep treating anyone with a mood disorder as if everything else about them is perfectly fine, just as you usually do with anyone with a more physical illness. – Rappler.com

Kerwin Datu, PhD, RAIA is an architect, geographer, and chair of the Sydney-based magazine Architecture Bulletin.

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I’m here to tell you about this woman. She’s been around my kind for a long while, so the red ballpens from long ago know of her, and I suspect the red ballpens that will come long after I’m used up will still get to meet her.

There are quite a number of us in her pen holder, and boy are there stories to tell: the many times we were used to check her students’ papers, the perfect scores always punctuated with a star and a “Great job!” added in for good measure.

We were also there for the many times that the scores were not so good, even when ovals were drawn instead of stars. We would hear her disappointed sighs, and watch her frown and pout, because that could mean anything from frustration that her students didn’t try hard enough, or guilt that maybe she hadn’t done enough for them to understand the lesson.

These papers were often hidden in the back of their accordion envelopes until they were replaced by better scores. There was always some form of eye contact when these were given back, an unspoken inquiry on her part and a quiet promise on her student's part to do better.

But even better than these papers were her students’ journals. We, her red pens, communicated her compassion and commiseration to her students, with their stories of young love and the simple joys of youth, as well as the regret and misery that accompanied heartbreak and the impatience of adolescence.

She made sure she wrote messages that always shared in their delight, and encouraged them to see the brighter side of things when the bad times came around. We’d be surprised that the kids would continue to do this even with the advent of online chats. I guess nothing beats the written word, and the effort spent letting them know that no matter what happens, they matter.

Our friends, the black pens, tell us, “Oh we have a better job than you guys.” That’s when I learned that she would also regularly write notes to her students, to wish them continued blessings at Christmas and also at the end of the school year, to wish them luck as they left her classroom and continued on their journey of learning. I admit, I was kind of envious for a while, but as I looked around her desk, there were as many red ballpens as any other kind, so that got me thinking that we had our own mission to accomplish.

Personal battle

And yes, as she grew older, so did her students, and we were used to grade longer, more complicated papers that tackled darker and more serious topics. And we, her red ballpens, were still around, guiding her almost adult wards to think more critically, especially in a world that was increasingly hostile to reason and good judgement and principled opinions.

Every comment that said, “Cite your sources,” “Explain this more substantially,” and “Make your points clear,” on the margins of a paper meant she required additional thought and reflection.

By now we understood that we were part of her personal battle against the ever-growing tide of misinformation and false facts, which led to wrong values and ultimately, a corrupted soul. This was the only way she could fight; in her own way, the wrongs could be made right. This would be accompanied with fervent prayers that when her students grew up, they would be bearers of light.

One time, a co-teacher told her, “Why are you still using red pens? They give off a negative vibe, of correction and mistakes.”

She didn’t have to answer, because I knew. She still uses red ballpens because red is the color of the only thing that kept her going all these years. One simply cannot stay this long in this profession if it were not for sheer, genuine love. – Rappler.com

Rosanna Mallillin-Borja has been a teacher for 31 years at the Ateneo de Manila University, and has taught Grade 3 all the way to Grade 12.

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MANILA, Philippines– “Uy, ‘yan ‘yung binabasa mo pa noong Grade 7 pa tayo ah. Noon ay Book 2 ka pa lang, ngayon ay may Book 4 na.”

(That's what you were reading since we were in Grade 7. Before you only had Book 2, now you have Book 4.)

“Uy, Janus Silang! May Book 4 ka na pala (You have Book 4 already).”

I looked up from reading my copy of the fourth book in the Janus Silang series: Janus Silang at ang Hiwagang may Dalawang Mukha. I was at school taking advantage of those times in between classes, reading up even fragments of the book because I was too excited to wait until I got home to read.

It was two of my classmates. One of them thought I was reading the same book over and over again but then realized it was a different book in a series.

The exchange made me realize how much time has passed since I first read the first book. I remember about 4 years ago (I think I was Grade 6 at the time), I came home one day to find two new books from my father. It was parts one and two of the Janus Silang books.

I loved them. I realized the series has become a part of my life now. Like Janus’ habit of holding on to his USB necklace, I also hold on to my USB bracelet whenever I feel nervous, or when I feel like I need a boost of strength. It may not actually give me strength, but it gives me a placebo feeling that I can overcome a problem, that like Janus, I could get through it even if it hurts.

At first I couldn't quite keep up with what was written on the pages. It was my first time reading everything after all. The scenes, characters, places, worlds, and concepts were all new to me. Now the world of Janus Silang has grown on me. I now know the concepts, the goals, and the way things basically work. The series, especially Book 3, opened me up to a world that was previously hidden from me. It made me feel like Miro or Mira when they saw both worlds at once. (READ: How Filipino silent graphic novels motivate kids to read)

However, the fourth book reveals details of the magic system that makes the foreshadowing clearer, yet makes things even more complex. That, and the numerous plot twists, make me more excited to read the fifth and the last book in the series.

The series itself reminded me of some of the lyrics of my favorite song that Filipino vocaloid producer Dasu made, "Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis." (A mouthful, I know.) The lyrics go like this:

Sa kanta sinimulan
Ang hele ng lumbay
Sumabay si Paraluman

Sa ginto idinaan
Akala mo ba na
Lahat ay makakalimutan?

Iiyak ka pa
Pinoproblema niya ang wakas
Walang inumpisahan

Sino ka nga pala?
Uulit ka rin ba
Tulad nila?

While I won't provide an explanation for this as they it just spoil the reading experience, I can say that people may see this the same way I did. The story and ending just reminded me of these lyrics, and the song is made for a totally different fictional story that Dasu made up. (It's called Stellar Paradigm if you're curious.)

Though I was saddened by one of the many plot twists, the fact that there's still a Book 5 gave me hope for the story: that I, along with other readers, may get an explanation on what happened. Right now I’m waiting for Si Janus Silang at ang Lihim ng Santinakpan, the series' fifth book which will reveal the deeper secrets of the story I knew and loved since sixth grade.

"Uy, anong libro 'yan? Puwedeng pabasa (What book is that? Can I read it)?"

I looked up from reading. I was still at school, during one of those breaks in between classes, reading the last chapters of the 4th book in the Janus Silang series. One of my classmates saw me reading.

"Janus Silang," I said.

They asked what the book was about and I told them the basic details. They were interested. My friend from another section and I later had a similar exchange.

Although I don't remember all the details from those conversations, I can clearly remember that I went home after class knowing that I now had someone else who will possibly like a series I knew and cherished for years. – Rappler.com

Divine de los Reyes is a fourteen-year-old Grade 9 student of Lucban Academy in Quezon province. Aside from reading and writing, she also likes listening to lo-fi music, making planners, and digital art.

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Ten years ago, Typhoon Ondoy brought unprecedented devastation to Metro Manila and surrounding provinces. This disaster was a grim reminder for Filipinos of what happens when we fail to address the impacts brought by climate change.

Despite more reminders that our world has experienced since then, climate action has only progressed slowly. Some political leaders and business tycoons refuse to prioritize measures to solve this crisis or even acknowledge the severity of its impacts. Our economic system is reaching a point where money is being made not to address the basic needs of the people, but rather to make even more money. (READ: 'How dare you?' Greta Thunberg asks world leaders at U.N.)

This is evident in how Philippine banks, especially BPI, BDO, and Metrobank continue to finance the development of coal-fired power plants, which worsens global warming. Despite scientific consensus and a growing public outcry, these banks continue to take advantage of faulty economic policies that make coal still attractive to investors. They choose to keep the few elitists happy and richer instead of supporting long-term development where everyone benefits. (READ: [OPINION] It's time to stop investing in climate change)

If you or your family are one of the millions of clients of these banks, is this how you want your money to grow? What is the point of investing if it would lead to the suffering of others? Why invest for your future when that future is filled with more extreme weather events and a lower quality of life, which is partially caused by irresponsible banking?

This is why it is important for the Filipino youth to actively campaign for divestment from fossil fuels. It is their future that would be negatively affected by the climate crisis should unsustainable financial practices continue. Their involvement would also help in the development of morally-responsible future generations that can end the culture of exploitation and greed that prevails in our society.

In the Philippines, divestment efforts have started picking up. Last July, the Catholic Bishops Conference of the Philippines (CBCP) joined 140 other Catholic institutions around the world in committing to shift its financial assets away from fossil fuels into renewable energy. Among banks, the Development Bank of the Philippines is among the 131 institutions worldwide that have committed to align their business with the goals of the Paris climate agreement and the Sustainable Development Goals. These banks hold $47 trillion in assets, or a third of the world’s banking sector.

But this is nowhere near enough to prevent further man-made global warming and climate change. There are many ways in which the Filipino youth can help the world in divesting from dirty energy.

One way is to join the climate strikes. For months, millions of youth advocates worldwide have been marching on the streets to demand from governments and businesses a rapid and just transition to renewable energy and justice for the victims of climate-induced disasters. (READ: [OPINION] Why the Philippines should declare a climate emergency)

Contrary to its negative perception in the Philippines, strikes that are genuinely and properly conducted can exert public pressure that triggers widespread change. In Negros, youth climate strikers played a key role in stopping the construction of a 300-megawatt coal plant sponsored by SMC Global Power Holdings Corporation. The same could be done applying pressure to the country’s major banks, which have yet to pronounce timelines for completely abandoning their coal investments.

Another way is to directly pressure their academic institutions to divest. It is unethical for colleges and universities, whose mission is to educate the leaders of tomorrow, to invest in businesses with practices that compromise the future of their students.

Youth leaders can engage with their school administrators to check portfolios, know where their tuition fees are being betted on, and persuade them to live up to the image of role models. They may also conduct case studies and socioeconomic analyses to show that investing in renewables, whose demand is increasing by the day, is the best long-term move for their institution.

Lastly, the Filipino youth can convince their families to avoid investing in banks and other financial institutions that fund dirty energy projects. They may also persuade them to engage in stockholder consultations, where they can directly engage with banking officials and pressure them to commit to the kind of sustainable business practices that they deserve.

The climate crisis is not just about preventing more disasters; it is also about reducing the inequalities that unjustly place the marginalized sectors in harm’s way of its worst impacts. Banks and other businesses should not be allowed to continue the “business-as-usual” attitude that has led to the poor state of the world.

The message is clear: No profit is more worthy than the long-term health of the planet and its people. And if they do not listen, it’s up to the leaders of tomorrow to make them. – Rappler.com

John Leo Algo is the Program Manager for Climate Action for Sustainability Initiative (KASALI) and the Science Policy Advisor for Living Laudato Si Philippines. He is also an environment researcher and citizen journalist.

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Hazing has become a byword that is distinctly associated with the Philippine Military Academy (PMA). Until this very day.

And it is so sad and unfortunate. For hazing is not a positive term. It betrays the character that the academy is supposed to represent. But it also manifests what is entirely wrong with the institution. The malpractice has surfaced once again due to the death of another victim. Despite policies and programs to eradicate hazing at the PMA, it nevertheless persists, rendering such initiatives ineffective and useless. (READ: PMA's record of hazing deaths)

What are the military and the generals to do about hazing at the PMA? What should the superintendent and commandant do about it? Why have lessons not been learned after decades of this problem? This brief essay will attempt to answer.

Despite the positive image that the academy and alumni like to brandish, the reality of hazing resulting in fatalities continues to gnaw at this image. It betrays an inner reality that cannot be whitewashed by an outer one. It is like trying to submerge atrocities committed in campaigns against enemies through the staging of colorful parades and accolades to the delight of worshipping crowds. It is similar to etching a carefully crafted testimonial speech that does not truly reflect the truth but rather just a positive image of the person edified.

These common practices in our military and society betray a culture that does not echo the very motto of the academy. Courage. Integrity. Loyalty.

I have heard of new initiatives to make hazing go away from some alumni groups. One even suggested the copying of the Respect Officer concept from the United States Military Academy. But this concept was not put in to address hazing such as what exists at the PMA. I think it is a shallow solution. Along with any other forwarded solution which sounds nice but actually is mere window-dressing.

Looking back at years of hazing at the PMA and their aftermaths should already teach us that such solutions do not work in our particular case.

What new solution?

The military and its generals like to sound off all kinds of loud reactions each time hazing is highlighted. They feel it is their duty to somehow address the problem in a loud manner enough for the public to hear. After all, it is their alma mater that is once again put into focus.

Many of them also experienced hazing. Many do not think hazing is an issue. Many are even proud that they went through hazing and survived it. The insider view is that hazing is merely a natural occurence in any fraternal membership.

The superintendent and commandant, in particular, will feel that they need to come up with a solution that is loud enough for the public to hear and one that will pacify agitated spirits. Therefore, they will tend to go for what has been stated earlier about coming up with a relatively "new" solution that has never been tried before. (READ: 'Have heart and soul,' new PMA chief tells cadets)

But there is no such solution. For all have already been tried before and found wanting.

Truth is that there is no need for any “new” solution. The old solutions still work and they only need to be taken seriously.

They all begin with the academy motto: Courage-Integrity-Loyalty. The true solution lies in reforming the cultural spirit and not just the cultural letter. As of now, the spirit may be willing but the flesh is weak.

It is time the academy, the generals, the superintendent, and the commandant take the alma mater seriously in its totality and all its forms: word, action, and spirit. Their true character.

If hazing is illegal, then why does it still occur? Prosecute all guilty, dismiss them, and send the word out as example to all without fear or favor. Courage is having what it takes to implement the anti-hazing rule and all its attendant truths.

The generals and alumni themselves must not play politics with the rules. Or courage will expose them too. Integrity is always aligning action with the letter and spirit of rules. Any inconsistencies must be exposed by any stakeholder be they cadets, civilians, generals, the supe, or the com, etc. And loyalty is having the commitment to protect courage and integrity because in the end, it is the institution (including all its members and alumni) which is at stake.

Enough of words

And enough of words. There is too much talk about hazing but not enough action. It should be a real challenge to the academy and the alumni. For men in uniform of character, this hazing eats away at what the military academy is highly esteemed for, which is its integral character.

In the military, we challenge each other saying how one can actually execute "yes sir" to the satisfaction of the superior. If the subordinate is able to accomplish the mission given him to the complete satisfaction of the superior, then that subordinate did what is usually expected of military professionals: execute the mission well above legal and moral reproaches. In short, "snappy"!

The same challenge is now thrown at the entire cacophony of significant stakeholders who must make hazing finally go away for good especially to the academy officials and alumni.

Undefeated enemy

In summary therefore, hazing continues to be a sickness suffered by the academy but whose continued existence manifests a challenge that the academy and alumni have not yet defeated.

For hazing is not merely the ownership of a bunch of misguided cadets. Hazing reflects a system of double standards much like the one that persists in the real world outside the academy.

But double standards have no room in an environment like the academy. Where everything is supposed to be black or white. Where right is right. And wrong is wrong. In fact, double standards have no room in a much edified institution like the military whose superior virtue is its honor.

Hazing is nothing new. And it needs no new solution. If there is anything to be renewed, then it is the cultural spirit that must prevail and not merely its letter. – Rappler.com

Retired colonel Dencio Acop attended the PMA before graduating from West Point in 1983. He left the Armed Forces of the Philippines in 2006 and built a second career in the private sector working for PSA, Wyeth, Pfizer, and Nestle, and retired in 2018. He writes freelance.

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Arab Spring. Libyan civil war. NATO airstrikes. Deadly tribal clashes. How does a Filipino expat teach in such a backdrop?

Burdened by mounting financial woes, I packed my bags and flew to Libya on October 18, 2009. I was assigned to teach at the College of Arts (Kuliya A-Dab, in Arabic) in Sebha City, about 640 kilometers from the capital, Tripoli.

My first year in this North African country was actually better than I expected. Libyans are wonderful people. Friendly, hospitable, passionate. Amid the beige-colored terrain, authentic shawarma, and the welcoming locals, I felt at home. I taught various English subjects to college kids. As a reward, my comatose bank account started showing some signs of life.

But then, war came. February 17, 2011 to be exact. It was a domino effect of the Arab Spring that started in Tunisia. Authoritarian leaders, well-entrenched in the corridors of power, fell one by one. Libya was seething in conflict.

Things changed drastically for me and my students.

With most foreign teachers gone, many classes had been left teacher-less. I, with some other teachers, stayed to salvage whatever could be salvaged in the semester. Connected to our students by mobile phones, we would alert each other whenever there was a gunfight or a bombing. When the fighting subsided, teachers would cautiously go back to the college and teach whoever was there. And a handful would always be there.

As a college teacher, I knew the sentiments of the Libyan youth. I could feel the simmering tension. Classes were polarized by opposing political beliefs. Friendships had been severed. Teachers were aware of the raw nerves and cooled down arguments right away before they turned nasty. Or deadly. In a place where guns are as ubiquitous as the sand, the last thing we wanted were heated, emotional debates.

War dramatically changed my students’ lives. I had witnessed how carefree teenagers became socially involved citizens. I had seen how weak girls turned into tough orphans. Before my eyes, timid boys transformed into fearless warriors, brandishing armalites and guns. Empty classroom seats, which before the war I dismissed as bouts of illness or laziness, now worried me no end. Has Khalid gone to the battlefield? Or has Mariam been caught in thecross fire?

These young men and women were a part of my decision to stay. A teacher cannot not love her students even if they are not related by race and religion. They always form a special bond and hard times make that bond stronger. Even now, after almost a decade, my heart still aches for the boys who went to war and never came back.

Sometime in May of 2011, I was conducting an exam in Transformational Generative Grammar (TGG).

It was a class of about 25 and majority were teenage girls. About 10 minutes into the exam, a gunfight erupted about 5 kilometers away. We could hear the distant, muffled shots. After a few more minutes, the shots got louder. We realized that it was a running gunbattle and it was moving towards us.

I made a decision: "Okay, let’s stop this exam and continue on another day. Let's all go home. Call your fathers and brothers to fetch you." But nobody moved. Not even one student looked away from her paper. I repeated myself, louder: "Let's go home. It's okay not to finish the exam. Call your fathers and brothers." Again, nobody moved, as if they heard nothing.

My students all stubbornly continued with the exam. The gun battle was still raging on, and it was getting fiercer and closer. The glass panels of our windows started clattering and I was worried they would shatter anytime. The ground beneath our feet trembled. The air reeked of smoke and gunpowder.

A girl looked up at me and flashed a naughty smile: "You will die with us."

I gave off a nervous laugh: "So be it." For almost an hour, the class ignored impending injury and death. They only left after completely finishing the test. These young, pampered Libyan girls – with veiled heads and henna-tattooed hands – answered each question with laser-like focus and composure. I watched them in awe. It was a privilege of a lifetime to witness such courage. It was, and still is, my proudest moment as a teacher.

I bid goodbye to this beautiful country on August 12, 2012. My stint as an expat teacher in Libya was both inspiring and heartbreaking, challenging, and transformative. War is ugly, but it taught me beautiful things: courage, resilience, humility, compassion, and survival.

Indeed, war is a great teacher. And the lessons stay with you for a lifetime. – Rappler.com

Marily Sasota Gayeta is currently an English lecturer at Salalah College of Technology in Oman. She has been an overseas Filipino worker for 9 years. Marily finds delight in solitude, rock music, action movies, and non-fiction books. She is from Pilar, Bataan.

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Social media was recently abuzz about a 16-year-old girl from Sweden who became the poster child for climate justice. Greta Thunberg recently appeared in many forms of media, capped by a no-holds-barred condemnation of the "powers that be" at the United Nations for their seeming inaction on the 11th-hour environmental crisis. (READ: 'How dare you?' Greta Thunberg asks world leaders at U.N.)

This earned her plenty of admiration, but also disdain and contempt. Allow me to outline some of the reasons for this ire and offer my two cents.

Issue #1: Greta is an actress, and her tirades are for show.

Truth be told, Greta has a Swedish director and actor for a father and an opera singer for a mother. However, she doesn't count as an actress by profession. But if her appearances reek of theatrical gimmickry, there are two things I can say about that.

First, if being dramatic means you can influence as many people as possible for a good cause, then what's wrong with that? A message is often ignored if delivered by a boring messenger. Politicians and companies have been using actors and actresses to further their (sometimes selfish) agendas with amazing effects. So why not allow Greta to be dramatic in pushing for the agenda of saving our fragile Earth? (READ: [OPINION] When Greta met Gina: Save our planet)

Second, maybe she wasn't acting at all. Maybe she was being candid and honest with her feelings because it reflects her beliefs, disappointments, and dreams. Up until now there was never any solid proof that her appearances were for show. Accusations were based on mere assumptions.

Issue #2: Greta is young and mentally ill, and was manipulated by her parents.

Greta is on the autism spectrum. But what is not known to many is that while a good fraction of those diagnosed with autism suffer from intellectual disability, there are also people on the spectrum who are high-functioning and can integrate better into society. Sometimes, they just see things differently from the rest of us.

Maybe it's because of her autism that Greta tends to see things as they really are, while the rest of us continue to see things as they appear or are presented to us. In fact, Michelangelo, Nikola Tesla, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Bill Gates, and Albert Einstein were said to have had some type of autism.

So, no, Greta wasn't manipulated by her parents. Greta's father was quoted as saying, "Greta forced us to change our lives; I didn't have a clue about the climate. We started looking into it, reading all the books – she has read them too."

Issue #3: Greta's crusade is not backed by 'the real science.'

This is the criticism I find most laughable. Some people think the human-triggered climate crisis is a hoax!

However, multiple researches published in peer-reviewed scientific journals show that 97% or more of actively publishing climate scientists agree: Climate-warming trends over the past century are extremely likely due to human activities. (READ: [OPINION] Why the Philippines should declare a climate emergency)

But if you are still into the business of denying that the climate crisis is caused by humans, don't worry. You're in good company. The Flat-Earthers got your back.

A philosopher named Blaise Pascal once waged that he would rather believe in God's existence than not believe in it. If he were wrong, then he hadn't much to lose. But if he didn't believe in God and it turned out that God actually exists, then that becomes a problem of divine proportions.

What if we took care of our planet, but it turned out the climate crisis was a hoax? We don't have much to lose, do we? But what if we stubbornly cling to the belief that the climate crisis is not caused by humans and we do nothing to help address this problem, and then it turns out climate change is real? Now this would become a problem of planetary proportions. – Rappler.com

Alex Manlapao is a professor of philosophy, ethics, humanities, and the contemporary world at Colegio San Agustin-Bacolod.

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After World War II, when most Asian economies were in shambles, the Philippines managed to rebuild its local economy through a combination of trade legislation, austerity programs and the renowned “Filipino First” policy. All these efforts were designed not only to rehabilitate the ailing economy of a newly emancipated Republic but were geared toward heralding an era of economic independence.

By the 1950s to 1960s, the Philippines had built a name for itself as one of the leading economies in Asia. In fact, the Philippines was highly regarded as an industrial powerhouse. With the advent of stricter import regulations and policies, the country’s local manufacturing industry flourished and exports were at an all-time high. Philippine brands like San Miguel were not only household names but were globally competitive and well known.

Thus, it is baffling that today, the Philippines has been grossly left behind by its Asian neighbors in terms of industrial growth.

Japan, which was in much dire straits than the Philippines after World War II, is now one of Asia’s leading economies. Its brands such as Sony, Nintendo, and Toyota are synonymous with Japanese ingenuity and world class quality.

South Korea, which in the 1960s was only beginning to recover from the Korean War, is now a global leader in electronics with brands such as Samsung and LG, and the cosmetics industry with brands like Laneige, Sulwhasoo and Etude House. Korea has even managed to globally export its music and pop culture!

The Philippines is home not only to a host of beautiful tourism sites, but the most hardworking and creative people in the world as well. Filipino resourcefulness and ingenuity have pioneered breakthrough inventions such as the medical incubator, karaoke machine, computer chip and a variety of medicines.

The beauty and quality of our artisan craftsmanship dates back to even pre-colonial times. In trade shows and expos abroad, Filipino fashion, furniture and products are a hit with the foreign market. In recent years, homegrown brands like Jollibee and Kenneth Cobonpue have found lucrative niches overseas.

Hard reality

Why are there not a lot of Filipino brands taking center stage globally?

Could it be the quality of our products? Could it be the uncompetitive conditions that our businessmen have to live with? Could it be inadequate government support? Could it be the lack of certainty and consistency in governmental policy and practices? Could it be that our businesses lack the scale to compete globally? Could it be the lack of foresight of our businessmen?

Or, to put it bluntly as President Duterte did during his last SONA, are we our own enemies?

To truly maximize our potential in the global market requires a collective effort from both the private and public sectors. Robust government initiatives that provide sustainable partnerships between local creators and key foreign marketplace actors and financial grants can pave the way to more brands stepping into the global scene. Financial literacy and mentorship programs which educate and expose creators to the business aspect of creating and growing their brands are also crucial in preparing our domestic brands to take flight internationally.

The success story of building a proudly local and globally recognized brand starts from home. The possibilities and solutions are endless.

What we badly need is soul-searching to figure out how we, as Filipinos, can once again showcase our talent, ingenuity, and creativity on a global scale. – Rappler.com

The author, a senior partner of ACCRALAW, is the vice president of the Management Association of the Philippines and a trustee of the Financial Executives Institute of the Philippines. The views in this column are exclusively his. He may be contacted at francis.ed.lim@gmail.com

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Noong isang araw, inupakan ng aktor na si Enchong Dee sa Twitter si Celine Pialago, ang tagapagsalita ng Metropolitan Manila Development Authority – na may malawak na mandate na mangasiwa ng serbisyo sa metropolis, ngunit halos tinitingnan lang natin na tagpangasiwa ng daloy ng trapiko.

Sabi ni Pialago sa Facebook, patungkol sa mga nag-transport strike: “Despite the good intentions of the government, puro reklamo lang ang kaya niyong gawin. Nasasanay kayong gobyerno ang mag aadjust sa lahat ng reklamo niyo particularly dito sa PUV Modernization Program. You can never threaten the government.”

Sagot ng isang commenter kay Pialago, na nagsabing “gustong pilayin” ng mga nag-i-strike ang commuting system: “GURL??? Pilay na ang commuter system kahit walang strike. JUSKO MRT pa lang, pilay na pilay na pilay na. You don't need a strike to paralyze the commuter system in Manila. You've been doing that yourself without any help for years.”

Sabi ni Dee, sa kanyang tweet, “This person is clueless of the state of Metro Manila traffic.”

Dagdag pa ni Dee, “Why not provide for the jeepney driver’s modernization…” (BASAHIN: ‘Hodge-podge planning’: How DOTr mismanages PUV modernization program, according to senators)

Bago pa ipinanganak si Pialago, lehitimo nang pamamaraan ng pagprotesta ang strike sa buong mundo. ’Yan ang buod ng sagot ng maka-kaliwang si Renato Reyes. Pero hinaharap naman nina Reyes at ng mga militante ang panganib na mapalayo sa kanila ang masa sa palagiang paggamit nito.

Kapos lang ba talaga sa EQ ang mga spokesman? Kapos sa pag-aaral ng kasaysayan? Clueless? Manhid at insensitibo? Marahil ay lahat ng ito.

Andiyan din ang spokesman ni Pangulong Rodrigo Duterte, si Salvador Panelo, na mukhang hindi EQ ang problema kundi mismong moral compass niya. Ang talento ni Panelo ay ang pagpapaikot-ikot ng mga isyu at pagbabaluktot ng batas. Mahusay siya sa palusot at “creative interpretation” ng mga palsong sinabi ng amo niya.

Ang pinakamasugid nilang tagasuporta ay bloggers sa propaganda machinery ni Pangulong Duterte.

Pero hindi lamang sa Pilipinas umeeksena ang mga spokesman at spokeswoman. Andyan si Sarah Elizabeth Sanders, na ilang ulit nahuling nagsisinungaling upang pagtakpan ang kanyang boss, si US President Donald Trump, at mahilig magpalaganap ng mga video mula sa conspiracy theorists.

Andiyan din ang senior adivser ni Trump na si Kellyanne Conway, na nagtanggol ng immigration ban nito, at bilang depensa’y nagbanggit ng isang pangyayaring umano’y nagsasangkot ng terorista. Walang ganoong pangyayari.

Para silang mga toro na nakakita ng pula kapag nahaharap sa mga kritiko.

Sinasalamin nila ang aktitud ng mga administrasyon nila – at duda kami kung ang bayan ang itinuturing nilang amo, o kung may konsepto sila ng “serving the public good.”

Magaspang, mayabang, insensitibo, at borderline trolling.

Ano ang trolling? Ito ang panlalait o pagkomento gamit ang nakagagalit na lengguwahe – para mamikon, para magsimula ng away. Kadalasan, nagto-troll ang isang tao sa internet para gumulo at lumabo ang usapan, para mangibabaw ang emosyon sa mga pagtatalo.

Nasagot na natin kung ano ang silbi nila sa kanilang mga amo. Pero ano ang silbi ng mga ganitong spokesman at spokeswoman sa lipunan?

Imbes na tumulong na humanap ng solusyon at pag-ugnayin ang stakeholders, mistulan silang tangkeng humaharang sa mamamayang nagtatanong at nagrereklamo.

Bahagi sila ng aparato ng estado na sa ngalan ng pagtatanggol ay nanggugulo ng diskurso. Kaya magkakahawig ang kanilang asta, sagot, at askad.

May aasahan ba tayong dunong mula sa kanila? Magiging ehemplo ba sila ng tamang asal, katapatan, matuwid o ethical na pangangatuwiran?

Magkape na lang tayo, mga kaibigan. At huwag tayong magsawang patulan at bigyang liwanag ang pagpipilipit nila sa katotohanan. – Rappler.com

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In case you didn’t notice, inflation – which measures how fast prices are rising – has been free-falling in recent months (Figure 1).

Last month it dropped to a mere 0.9%, the lowest since May 2016 or shortly before President Duterte came into office.

Dropping inflation might seem like an unalloyed boon for many. Yet there are at least 3 reasons why this is not necessarily the case.

First, lower inflation doesn’t mean prices in general have similarly dropped. Only certain food items, such as rice, have deflated.

Second, the plummeting of rice prices – which accounts for lower inflation in large part – could spell doom to our rice farmers, poor as they already are.

Third, inflation of 0.9% is lower than what the government targeted. Could this be a manifestation of slower economic activity?

Although inflation has subsided a lot from last year, we don’t want it to be too low either.

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Figure 1.

Base effect

Inflation has subsided partly because of a mere technicality called the "base effect."

Remember that inflation climbed steadily last year until it reached 6.7% in September and 6.8% in October.

Figure 2 below shows that prices have stabilized since then. Because inflation is the percent change of prices from the same period last year, it’s no surprise that inflation has recently dropped.

Evidently, general price levels continue to rise even with inflation now below 1%. Lower inflation doesn’t mean lower prices in general. In fact, the general price level, as measured by the “consumer price index” or CPI, is higher than ever.

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Figure 2.

Lower rice prices

Let's grant that some goods have seen significantly lower prices recently. Chief among these would be food and non-alcoholic beverages.

But if you drill down further it’s really about rice, whose retail prices have dropped by a sizable 8.9% from last year.

Other food items have become cheaper since last year, including bread and cereals (6%), vegetables (4.7%), sugar (4.1%), and corn (4.1%). But since these items amount to a small portion of the food basket, their contribution to the decline of overall inflation is just as small. Rice still takes the big slice.

By contrast, food and non-alcoholic beverages take up 38% of the overall basket of goods, while rice alone takes up a fourth of that food basket. Hence, one might expect to see these two components pulling down inflation the most (Figure 3).

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Figure 3.

You might reasonably attribute the plummeting of rice prices to the Rice Tariffication Act signed by Duterte last Valentine’s Day.

Although the law is certainly a boon to rice consumers – who comprise virtually all of us – it has threatened the livelihood of our local rice farmers, who are some of our poorest, most economically vulnerable workers. (READ: Plummeting rice prices: How will our rice farmers cope?)

Sign of weaker economy?

Lastly, it’s worth noting that an inflation rate of 0.9% is well below the government’s target of between 2-4%.

As much as it can, the government avoids episodes of very high inflation. We saw last year that this tends to erode people’s “purchasing power.” With the same budget you leave the grocery with a lighter bag or leave the gas station with less gas in your tank.

At the same time, the government also avoids episodes of very low inflation.

If inflation reaches zero, for example, it means prices are not moving at all. This might mean people throughout the economy are not spending nearly enough on goods or services as before, and this could result in substantially weaker economic growth. Wages might also stagnate.

Negative inflation, also called “deflation,” presents its own set of problems, but we’re not there (yet).

Sure, we need more data to confirm inflation of 0.9% is symptomatic of weak economic growth.

“Core inflation,” which excludes items with volatile prices like food, is still at 2.7% and firmly within the government’s inflation target band (see the blue line in Figure 1). If core inflation dips to below 2%, we might begin to worry in earnest.

Nonetheless, data do show anemic economic growth amid plunging inflation. Gross domestic product or GDP growth two quarters ago clocked in at a disappointing 5.5%. By contrast, Duterte started his term with growth in excess of 7%. (READ: Dismal growth: Why is the PH economy losing its momentum?)

Free-falling rice prices could also endanger one particular sector in our economy: agriculture. Last quarter it dismally contributed less than 1% of overall growth.

Goldilocks zone

There’s a Goldilocks zone where inflation targeting is concerned.

Right now, the government set that Goldilocks zone to be between 2-4%. Above 4% inflation is too high; below 2% inflation is too low.

To be fair, keeping inflation within this Goldilocks zone can be rather tricky. Even the previous administration had a hard time doing so, as is apparent in Figure 1.

In any case, just keep in mind that a sharp drop of the inflation rate is not an unalloyed boon. As they say, keep everything in moderation. Beware too much of a good thing. – Rappler.com

The author is a PhD candidate at the UP School of Economics. His views are independent of the views of his affiliations. Follow JC on Twitter (@jcpunongbayan) and Usapang Econ (usapangecon.com).

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Even when I was young, my father has already been in the frontlines of jeepney strikes in our community. He has been a jeepney driver for 20 years. In all these years, we all know that strikes had always been a last resort.

Our jeepney drivers do not earn much. With worsening traffic and the consistent rising prices of goods, a day of striking has big repercussions. It could mean losing the house, or children taking delayed examinations, as our drivers confront overdue payments. Worse, it could even mean starving for an entire day.

Thus, our drivers prefer not to protest. Strikes are a manifestation of desperation, only done under extreme circumstances. The needs of our families have always outweighed everything else. Only when there is a threat to remove the capacity to provide these needs do our drivers fight back.

A nationwide jeepney strike symbolizes a national cry to be heard, desperation that resonates with every hungry family, with every set of parents fighting for a better future for their children. It symbolizes a national plea for help and a warning that when pushed to the ends, our drivers will not hesitate to resist. (READ: IN PHOTOS: Piston says nationwide transport strike a success)

Since our drivers responded with strikes, they have been a target of complaints. The issue has polarized the public. Many stand with our drivers in their urgent request towards more reasonable solutions. Others resort to blaming our drivers for the inconvenience.

It is not our drivers' fault that our country lacks an efficient public transportation system. It is not our drivers' fault that poor urban planning resulted in seemingly unsolvable traffic problems. It is not our drivers' fault that our country has poor environmental compliance and an expensive health care system.

None of the root causes of public complaints is our drivers' fault. They are just victims like the rest of us, trying to survive in an economy run by the wealthy and the powerful. We are all failed by the system. We can blame our drivers all we want, but these complaints are misguided. This oppression is not the fault of the masses.

Our drivers see the urgency of being environmentally-compliant. They are willing to comply if only the cost were affordable. This is what they are asking. They are not petitioning that the commuters suffer from environmental hazards. In truth, our drivers have it worse. They are exposed at least 20 hours a day, often resulting in respiratory complications. They want to transition as much as the commuting public does, but they cannot afford it.

The government threatens to suspend licenses and franchises if our drivers fail to comply immediately. This is where the resistance comes from. The government wants to expedite the implementation of a poorly-consulted policy without consideration of the most affected sector. The government is not acting in the public interest. Which begs the question – whose interest are they acting for? (READ: Enchong Dee hits MMDA spokesperson Celine Pialogo over transport strike statement)

Recent media headlines have turned the public against each other. The commuters are not inconvenienced because our drivers decided to speak up. If only the government listens to its people, then a strike would not be necessary.

The root of the protest is simple: our drivers need a more reasonable plan for transition, a plan that will not remove their livelihood, a plan that can still feed their families. Can we blame these fathers if they wanted to make sure that their children will not go hungry?

I ask for your help. The recent strike was a desperate cry for help.

Respond.

Our drivers need you in this fight. Stand with us. It is time our masses win. – Rappler.com

Reycel Hyacenth N. Bendana is a recent graduate and SY 2018-2019 Student Council President of the Ateneo de Manila University. She currently works with an organization that assists refugees, asylum seekers, migrant children, human trafficking victims, and people with disabilities mostly due to landmines, cluster munitions, and other weapons of war.

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A few days ago, Presidential Spokesperson Salvador Panelo disagreed when asked if he thought there was already a traffic crisis in the country. “Everybody suffers from that, that is a given, but there is no mass transport paralysis, hence there is no mass transport crisis,” he infamously remarked in a press conference. It was the same week when all major train systems in the metro broke down. (READ: Panelo suggests choppers for emergency patients in traffic-logged cities)

You are wrong, Mr Panelo. And millions of Filipinos will agree with me. I will tell you why.

First, it is not a joke to spend two hours or more traveling to and from school or work twice a day at least 5 times a week. If you are unlucky enough, you will spend the entire trip standing in an already crowded bus or train, where getting in is almost as hard as getting off. Every commuter knows the paranoia of being pickpocketed, and of ladies, especially, falling prey to lascivious sexual predators.

But since your overlord is a proud misogynist, I guess you wouldn't really care about that last part.

Second, exhaustion and frustration reduces productivity inside classrooms and offices. How can a worker provide creative ideas or a student face his or her professors’ grilling if they're tired from commuting for hours? Leave earlier, you say? That time could have been used to spend time with their children, or read an extra chapter of a textbook.

But since your overlord is a proud historical revisionist, I guess you wouldn't really care about that last part.

Third, to disregard the economic impact of traffic is tomfoolery. According to the Japan International Cooperation Agency, traffic costs the nation P3.5 billion a day in economic opportunities lost. That is around P1.3 trillion pesos per year. In contrast, the education sector, which got the lion’s share of the budget this year, gets only P501.23 billion or roughly P1.37 billion per day while health gets P98.57 billion or around P270 million per day. Theoretically speaking, if the government could monetize a third of the money lost due to traffic every day, that would be an additional P430 million, which could be used to improve social services and deploy modern jeepneys on the road.

Your overlord once squawked at jeepney drivers, “Mahirap kayo? Putangina, magtiis kayo sa hirap at gutom! Wala akong pakialam (You're poor? Son of a bitch, then endure the hardships and hunger! I don't care)," so I guess you wouldn't really care about that last part

Don’t get me wrong. We all understand the limitations that our government has to overcome in solving the metro's horrendous traffic. We also appreciate the exciting infrastructure projects of the administration’s flagship "Build Build Build" program. They will certainly help everyone, as well as leave a lasting and tangible legacy for the President.

However, your blatant disregard for the plight of everyday ordinary obreros and estudyantes (workers and students) does not help. Your remark is insensitive and, in many ways, exemplifies what we already know about this administration: that you rarely really care about the poor, and that you coddle the rich. The TRAIN law put higher taxes on poor citizens' daily needs, but reduced levies on luxury cars. The war on drugs killed thousands of poor citizens, but only caught a handful of drug lords.

In the meantime, many officials still ride chauffeured cars on their way to government offices, while the President and his military elite will soon be riding a luxury jet to and from Davao once a week. At the same time, millions of Filipinos will have to settle with incommodious buses, rickety jeeps, and dilapidated trains – again. (The issue of security is, of course, a valid argument, but that is a topic for another day. If you can represent the rapist-murderer Antonio Sanchez in court, I think you are smart enough to know what I am saying here.)

At this point, all we want is for the government to solve this crisis fast, and to also have a little empathy. If better days are not yet forthcoming, acknowledge, empathize, and resolve. If representing an incompetent government is a challenge, at least have some class.

But since your overlord does not have that, I guess you wouldn't really care about that either. – Rappler.com

Rob Julian M. Maghinang is a proud Iskolar ng Bayan from the Polytechnic University of the Philippines Manila. His opinions are his alone and do not represent any of the organizations he is affiliated with.

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There is no such thing as a "right to transportation." It’s not something that is guaranteed by the Universal Declaration of Human Rights nor the 1987 Philippine Constitution. But this does not mean that our rights, as human beings and as commuters, are not being violated on a daily basis.

We often forget that human rights are interrelated and interconnected – meaning, a violation of one is often caused by another, or a deprivation of one could lead to the deprivation of another. It has a domino effect, to say the least. When the State fails to fulfill its obligations of providing reliable public transportation for its people, the rights of those who depend on this transportation are being compromised.

Who is at fault?

We don’t blame the Department of Transportation (DOTr) and its attached agencies for causing Manila’s traffic. We all know that Manila’s present congestion is brought about by poor urban planning, rural-urban migration, and the lack of an efficient mass transportation system. However, the DOTr, as the main agency tasked by the executive department, has the obligation to perform the "promotion, development, and regulation of a dependable and coordinated network of transportation, as well as in the fast, safe, efficient and reliable transportation services.” Failure of the DOTr to provide what is mandated by law means failure on the part of the government.

What rights are affected?

Firstly, for students who travel for more than 6 hours daily, it slowly eats up their right to education. The said right is not just about accessibility to education. It is also about whether the living conditions of the students allow them to learn and absorb knowledge to their best capacity. Do we expect students to learn more than 90% of the lessons taught if they are always physically exhausted?

Secondly, Article 7 of the International Convention for Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights says that everyone has the right to just and favorable conditions at work. In the Philippines and in the face of the mass transportation crisis, commuting to work poses a threat to the safety of workers. When one needs to ride a failing MRT or LRT only to get to work on time, then they are putting their personal safety at risk.

Thirdly, Article 12 talks about the right to the highest attainable standard of physical and mental health. Thanks to long commute times, Filipino commuters are being deprived of this right through the exhaustion of their physical and mental well-being. This has been backed up by a study conducted by the Asian Development Bank.

Ultimately, like falling dominos, all these violations could lead to the disregard of our right to an adequate standard of living.

What can we do?

When government officials refuse to recognize the existence of a mass transportation crisis, when they try to resolve the glitches without a sense of urgency, they are committing a disservice to the Filipino people. When they ignore and dismiss the daily struggle of commuters, maybe it’s time to ask if they ever cared for us at all.

As taxpayers and as hardworking, productive members of the society, we should demand accountability from the government. We should support investigations as to why there is neglect on the part of responsible agencies. We should call out those who downplay our exhaustion. The rights that are affected are mostly economic and social in nature, but civil and political rights also have a critical role to play. – Rappler.com

Christian Gultia is a student of MA Philippine Studies at the University of the Philippines Asian Center. He is the chairperson of Youth for Human Rights and Democracy-Philippines.

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He was an artist, but refused to color within the narrow lines decreed by society. He was also a jack of all trades who believed in doing good – from delivering baby mangrove trees to repopulate a shoreline, to helping disaster relief efforts. It was all or nothing for him – whether it was saving a doomed heritage structure, curating a tiny souvenir shop in Intramuros, or educating Manileños on their lost heritage via walking tours through Intramuros, the CCP Complex, or the city’s old/historical cemeteries.

Carlos Celdran had verve, style, and the confidence of an enfant terrible who used his time on earth to embody various roles such as educator, entertainer, entrepreneur (sometimes the lines would blur and he would be all of them at the same time). His was the irrepressible spirit that openly declared he loved whom he loved, and an impatience with terrible service or government with nationalistic fervor veined through it. He showed that you could still love your country even if you don’t agree with your government – from a performance art piece that landed him in jail and eventually forced him into exile, to the walking tours he breathed into colorful life with his cultural and historical insights.

He was born into a family that straddled bohemian and traditional worlds, and related to people equally, from CEOs to pedicab drivers. You were free to agree to disagree with him, as long as everyone was operating on the same platform of rights and not privileges. But in the end if you could love the things he loved (even at a fraction compared to his), he considered his job done – like the mangrove seedlings, he helped plant something and was happy to help this invisible infrastructure grow.

Carlos always had his roots in Manila, and was always happy to collaborate with others here and abroad – if he could communicate with sentient alien life to show how complex Filipino culture was, he would have found a way. Who knows, he’s probably still finding a way in the great beyond with his beloved dog Bogart – he’s never the type to stay idle.

A lovely, lively, brave man – a colorful and dissenting voice for so many worthy causes and stories; Carlos Celdran has contributed to the way we see Manila, and while very few can take the path he did, he certainly walked his way. – Rappler.com

Anna Gamboa works in Makati and believes in equal opportunity. So it doesn’t matter what nationality/gender/height/weight you are; if you stand on the wrong side of the escalator, she will gently but firmly move you while saying “excuse me.”

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The exact date was August 13, 2005, a Saturday, and it was the first time I met Carlos Celdran. I wanted to walk the streets of downtown Manila at the time, and a friend who knew Carlos said I could sign up for his tour of Escolta. Tours devoted to this specific district of the capital’s core were rare, as other guides wouldn’t brave its inner streets. It piqued my interest that someone was actually conducting a thorough tour of the area.

On the day of the meetup, I was the only one who showed up. Carlos was expecting a dozen participants who backed out at the last minute. “What the heck,” he said. “On with the tour.”

We started with Calvo Building, a late 1930s structure that witnessed Escolta’s golden days when it was dubbed the “Queen of All Manila Streets” until its decline in the 1990s. Carlos brought with him a portable speaker and played “Moonlight Serenade.” He said that he wasn’t merely banking on nostalgia, that playing the song would help me imagine the heydays of Manila.

We entered the building’s community museum. Surrounded by news clippings, old soda bottles, and photos of prewar structures in the area, I suddenly felt a strong connection to the street. It was as if I had lived or worked there. It felt uncanny to be drawn into this particular place, yet I also felt grounded and secure as I stood there.

I was too embarrassed to tell Carlos what happened while he was busy tinkering with his speaker. He went on and told me how Escolta transformed from a sleepy Spanish street to a bustling district of Manila during the American Period. It was obvious that he knew the place well. Carlos recounted how Escolta had all the firsts – the first elevator, the first ice cream parlor, the first cinema in the country, among others. His knowledge of Manila was second nature, and he said that one needn’t be an old-timer to love the city; all it takes is commitment to know more about it, how it came to be, to understand its present and even its future.

With only the two of us in the tour, it occurred to me that he seemed to have veered away from the script. But I don’t think he ever had a script to start with. He was no-holds-barred about the current state of Manila. He lamented that it was going to the dogs, because of the city government’s lack of care and conscious effort to actually do something about Manila’s remaining heritage. The tour became a discussion on how building owners could actually benefit from tax breaks and the need for support from the community to promote cleanliness, peace, and order. I told him that we needed to talk to the right people, and proposed a reinvention of the street.

We walked further towards Plaza Sta Cruz. He said we just had to enter the Monte de Piedad, the old building that stood at the end of Escolta. When he described it as formidable, I asked what made it so. “The guards already know I bring in people who have no business to be there.” It had been converted to a grocery store at the time, and so I thought that maybe we could buy something. We entered the building and went straight to the beverage section. Inside, Carlos talked about Arsenio Lacson, whose statue stood across the street in the middle of the plaza named after him. The guards looked at us with suspicion so we paid for our drinks and left.

His tour cost around P150 for students then. I felt compelled to make up for the students who didn’t show up so I handed him a 500. He wouldn’t accept it and he gave me my change. We went our ways at the foot of Quiapo Bridge. It would be 10 years before I meet him again, right across the river, in Intramuros.

I was already working for the Intramuros Administration when I met him again. I was new at IA, and we were preparing activities commemorating the Battle of Manila. I had just left a job in corporate Makati for a government job in old Manila. After years of volunteering in the heritage conservation scene, I was finally working full-time in promoting Manila’s history and conserving its built heritage. The meeting with Carlos proved to be the beginning of regular collaboration with him and other artists and advocates.

In the decade that transpired, Escolta had once again come alive. It had become a thriving community of artists and merchants, and his tours played no small part in making that possible. Carlos’ tours weren’t just tours; they were also an awareness campaign that reintroduced Manila to throngs of tourists and to a new generation of movers and advocates. During one of our conversations, I kidded him for not remembering me. “Of course, I do,” he said. “You paid for my Coke and you saved me from the guards!”

The tours, too, had grown bigger, grander, and ever popular. Many days I would hear Carlos herding his curious flock across Fort Santiago. There’s no mistaking when he was there. Carlos at the head of the line, decked from head to foot in colonial-inspired clothing and finery, his voice booming and animated by the rise and fall of his narratives; dozens of tourists behind him, attention captured by this man giving them a tour and a lesson and a performance.

What I never told him, and I regret not telling him, though, was on that day in 2005, as we walked the streets of Manila, his tour helped me discover what I wanted to do. He was the push that I needed to begin my own advocacy in protecting the built heritage of Manila. I could tell him this now – perhaps the message would make its way to him somehow, but I could also almost hear him say: “Enough of this drama, my dear. Just get on with it.” – Rappler.com

Jeffrey P. Yap is currently the senior tourism operations officer of the Intramuros Administration and is part of a team that supported and coordinated the events and activities of Carlos Celdran in the Walled City.

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"How many of you know how to ride a bike? Can you guess how old I was when I learned how to ride a bike? Twenty years old.”

Ganito ko sinisimulan ang klase ko sa English sa unang meeting ko sa mga bata. Laging nagugulat ang mga bata. “Ay, naunahan ko pa si Teacher.” Kaya 'yun ang ginagamit kong halimbawa sa pagtuturo ng English.

"Learning English is like learning how to ride a bike. We only have 3 tips to follow in class:

Practice makes perfect.
It’s okay to make mistakes.
Learning English is fun."

Hindi ko magawa ang Tip #2. Hindi pala okay sa akin na nagkakamali. Mahirap pala magkamali. Mas mahirap 'yung bumagsak. Pero alam 'nyo kung ano 'yung pinakamahirap? 'Yung kakabagsak mo lang, kailangan mo nang bumangon kaagad.

At sa loob ng dalawang taon sa pampublikong paaralan, 'yun ang paulit-ulit kong ginawa. Madalas, tinatanong tayo, “Para kanino ka bumabangon?” Madali lang sagutin 'yan. Di ba nga, #parasabayan, #parasabata? Pero 'yung hindi palaging natatanong, “Pagkatapos ng kada araw, paano mo pa rin nakakayang bumangon?” Hindi ko rin alam ang sagot dito. Pero tinuruan ako ng estudyante kong si Kino* kung paano.

Dalawang taon kong naging estudyante si Kino. Pagtuntong niya ng Grade 3 sa klase ko, nalaman kong hindi pa rin pala siya marunong magbasa. Kabisado niya ang alpabeto, pero hindi niya alam na ang tunog ng G ay /g/ at ng K ay /k/. At dahil hindi marunong magbasa, wala siyang naiintindihan sa klase namin, lalo na sa English.

Kapag oras ng klase, paikot-ikot lang siya, minsan nanggugulo ng kaklase, or naglilikot kung saan-saan. Minsan napapaaway tuloy siya. O napapagalitan. Ko. At ng lahat ng mga guro niya. Hindi pala minsan. Madalas. Palagi. Araw-araw.

Para tulungan siya, nagre-remedial classes kami pagkatapos ng klase, kasabay ang ibang kaklaseng "slow readers." Mahirap i-remedial si Kino dahil madali siyang mabagot. Minsan, tumatakas siya at umuuwi kaagad para makaiwas sa mga remedial classes namin.

Pagkatapos ng halos isang taon, pantig-pantig pa lang ang kayang basahin ni Kino. Hindi pa pang-Grade 4 ang reading level niya. Kahit Grade 3, hindi pa rin. Bagsak siya. Bagsak kami. Tanggapin ang pagbagsak. Ito ang una at pinakamahirap na itinuro sa akin ni Kino.

Bago magsimula ang bakasyon, kinausap ko siya at sinabing hindi pa siya handang maging Grade 4. Nangako akong magtutulungan kami sa susunod na taon para mahanda ko siya, kaya Grade 3-Kamagong muna ulit siya at si Teacher Irish pa rin 'yung teacher niya.

“Okay lang ba sa 'yo, Kino?”

Umiiyak na siya habang tumatango. Naiiyak na rin ako, pero pinigilan ko ang luha ko. Namangha ako sa tapang ni Kino. Natanggap niyang bumagsak siya. Pero kahit sinabi niya na okay lang sa kanyang uulit siya, sa akin, hindi. Dahil bumagsak siya, bumagsak din ako.

Marami akong tanong. “Ginawa ko ba ang lahat? Sinubukan ko ba lahat ng paraan? Paano kung may hindi pala ako nagawa? Bakit hindi siya natuto?” Sa halos dalawang taon kong pagtuturo, ilang beses ko rin ito itinanong, hindi lang dahil kay Kino. Ilang beses kong naisip na baka hindi para sa akin ang pagtuturo, na baka imbes na natutulungan ko ang mga estudyante ko, may mas magaling na guro na puwedeng magturo sa kanila.

Pero tinuruan ako ni Kino na, minsan, kailangan mo lang talagang tanggaping pumalpak ka. Bumagsak. Amining masakit bumagsak, at umiyak. Umiyak, umiyak, at umiyak pa hangga’t may luha ka pang puwedeng pigain sa mata mo.

Naalala ko, noong mga unang 5 buwan ng turo, pumapasok ako kada Lunes na mugto ang mata dahil lang sa pag-iyak nang nakaraang gabi. Pero natutunan ko rin na kapag tapos ka nang umiyak, kapag natanggap mo nang bumagsak ka, puwede ka na ulit magsimulang mag-ipon ng lakas para bumangon. At mag-eyeliner para maitago ang pagkamugto ng mga mata. Laging susubok at huwag susuko. Pagkatapos mong bumagsak, minsan nakakatakot nang sumubok ulit bumangon. Masakit bumagsak eh, ayaw mo nang maulit 'yun. Pero kapag nanatiling takot, tuluyan ka nang malulugmok.

Natakot din akong baka mawalan na ng gana si Kino pagpasok ng ikalawang taon niya sa Grade 3. Kahit ako, nag-aalala. Paano kapag di pa rin siya pumasa? Pero noong unang araw ng pasukan, lumapit siya sa ’kin at nagtanong, “Ma’am, magbabasa ba tayo sa uwian?” Laging susubok at huwag susuko. Nakita ko kay Kino 'yun. Bilang sa isang kamay 'yung pag-absent niya sa klase at hindi na siya tumatakas kapag nagre-remedial reading classes kami.

Bukod sa pagbabasa, nagkukwentuhan din kami. Nalaman kong nakakulong pala ang papa niya. Sa isang ESP activity namin kung saan magsusulat ng dasal sa Panginoon na hindi pa natutupad, nagulat at naiyak ako sa isinulat ni Kino. Una, dahil marunong na siyang magsulat, at pangalawa, dahil ito ang laman ng sulat niya, “Panginoon, sana makita ko na si Papa.”

Noong unang taon ko, buwan ng Oktubre, nagsulat ako ng resignation letter. Hindi ko 'yun ipinadala sa manager ko, pero muntik na. Noong araw na nabasa ko 'yung dasal ni Kino, nagpasalamat ako sa Diyos na hindi ko 'pinadala 'yung resignation letter. Na hindi ako sumuko sa pagtuturo, na hindi ako sumuko kay Kino. Naisip ko, kung nag-resign kaya ako noong unang taon ko, may nagpatuloy kayang turuan siyang magbasa? Makakasulat na rin ba siya ng ganung liham? Marahil oo, marahil hindi. Hindi ko alam. Ang alam ko lang, ako ang gurong nakatulong sa kanyang maisulat ang kaniyang saloobin.

Paano nga ba patuloy na bumangon? Una, tanggapin ang pagbagsak. Damhin ang sakit at pait, ubusin ang luha kung maaari. At kapag ubos na, magsimula muling sumubok, at huwag susuko. At kapag nakabangon na, ano'ng susunod na gagawin?

Sa huling araw ng klase, pinagawa ko ang mga bata ng dalawang uri ng liham para sa isa’t isa. Liham ng pasasalamat at liham ng pag-asa. Noong oras na ng bigayan ng sulat, may iniabot sa akin si Kino. “Teacher, salamat sa pagtuturo sa akin.” Magpasalamat. Ang susunod na gagawin ay magpasalamat. Sa hindi mabilang na liham na natanggap ko sa loob ng dalawang taon bilang guro, iyon na yata ang pinakaespesyal sa lahat.

Magpasalamat. Iyon ang ang pinakamahalagang itinuro sa akin ni Kino tungkol sa pagbangon. Dahil minsan – hindi, kadalasan pala – mahirap talaga bumangon. Hindi natin kayang gawing mag-isa. Kailangan natin ng magtutulak mula sa ibaba, kailangan natin ng maghihila paitaas.

Kaya salamat sa Teach for the Philippines sa isang hindi malilimutang paglalakbay, salamat sa co-teachers kong naging kaibigan, kapamilya, at karamay. Salamat sa aking nanay at tatay sa kalayaang ibinigay. At salamat kay Kino, at sa halos 500 estudyanteng Pilipinong nagbago ng aking buhay.

Maraming beses man ang pagbagsak, ganung karaming beses din ang pagbangon. At sa bawat pagbangon ay lalong tumatatag ang pagtindig sa mga bagay na patuloy na ipinaglalaban, 'ika nga, para sa bata, para sa bayan.

Sa aming mga estudyante, salamat muli dahil tinuruan 'nyo kami kung para kanino at kung paano bumangon. Kayo ang tunay na mga guro. – Rappler.com

*Hindi totoong pangalan. Ngayong taon, nasa ikaanim na baitang na siya (at patapos na ng elemantarya), paminsan-minsan ay nakikipag-chat sa akin sa Messenger para mangamusta.

Irish Joy Deocampo taught Grade 3 pupils at a public school in Quezon City for two years during her fellowship at Teach for the Philippines. Currently, she is a member of the Department of English and Comparative Literature faculty at UP Diliman.

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Clik here to view.Jeremy, a 16-year-old from Malabon, sat quietly on the clinic bed beside the baby she had just given birth to. I asked her if she was considering family planning to give her space till her next pregnancy. She gave me a blank look. “Family planning? Hindi ba pang-mag-asawa lang 'yun?” (Isn’t that just for married people?) (Read Dash of SAS: Education is the best form of contraception)

That was back in 2008.

A few weeks ago, in Cavite, I met 20-year-old Marilyn Masinog, who is pregnant for the 4th time. She first got pregnant at 13 and became a mother at 14. Her friends, Jay-Ann and Jessa May, are all teen mothers. Jessa May, 22, has two children. They had heard about “family planning” – condoms, pills and other birth control methods – but thought that as single young women who had not yet gotten pregnant, they could not avail themselves of those options.

Grace, Nikka, Jaycel, Clarisse, Roselyn, and Daisy live in Tondo, Manila. They all first became pregnant as teenagers. Some of them have more than one child. I met them in September when they came in for an interview for our Teen Mom Scholarship Program. All 6 of the young women talked about sex and avoiding pregnancy with their friends, but they heard about pills, implants, and IUDs from their mothers and titas. Those methods, they said, were family planning and were for the women who were married (also meaning living with their partner) and already had children.

This illustrates the paradox of the Philippines’ sex problem: we have sex, but we don’t talk enough about how to prevent unplanned pregnancies. To be more specific, our current framing of birth control as “family planning and responsible parenthood” creates a psychological barrier that keeps out young people who are sexually active but do not yet want to become parents.

Skyrocketing teen pregnancy

The Philippines has one of the highest teen pregnancy rates in the southeast Asian region. Every day, an estimated 500 teenage girls become mothers. A growing number have more than one child before the age of 20. Teen pregnancy – a life event that is 100% avoidable – has been declared a national public health emergency.

On the one hand, there is no scarcity of sex.

There’s internet porn. Green jokes and sexually-loaded innuendo are casually tossed into casual conversations. Sex is paraded around on noontime TV by scantily-clothed women shimmying to the latest pop song.

We giggle and cover our mouths with our hands even as we demurely refer to a penis as a bird and a vagina as a flower. The more daring will outdo each other with vulgar sex jokes – the more scandalous, the better.

On the other hand, when it comes down to discussing the risks associated with having unprotected sex, we clamp down. Just say no to sex. Close your legs. Pray the temptation away. Even as the science tells us that condoms, pills, and implants are all more effective than the most ardent and sincere of prayers.

We’re giving out mixed and muddled messages.

This matters a great deal when you’re 17, the age when, research tells us, about 23% of Filipino youth first start to have sex.

As teens, they want or are considering having sex but don’t want to be parents yet. All the messaging around them tells them that sex is hot, it feels good, it’s pleasurable – but stops there. Avoiding unplanned pregnancy, sexually-transmitted infections, and even the emotional pitfalls of having sex are restricted topics, meant only for married people – the people who are seen as “allowed” to have sex.

The sex that young people know is cloaked in myths and misconceptions and none of the science of protection and prevention. About 78% of first sexual encounters among young people are unprotected. According to a recent report, about 30 to 50 pregnancies per year are among 10-year-olds. In an interview at a maternity teen clinic, the doctor said that most of their cases that involve a child as young as 10 are cases of incest or rape.

The power of words

Referring to birth control as “family planning methods” carries all the connotations of how couples can plan how many children they want and can afford.

Words have the power to frame concepts. Words tell us what things are for, who they are for, and who they are not for. And the term “family planning” sends the signal that these methods are only for people who are presumably married and want to start a family or already have one.

The country is scrambling to address our runaway teen pregnancy rates. In our desperation, we pitch baseless solutions, like having separate classrooms for boys and girls.

But what if we expanded the current conversation to be more inclusive and attuned to the needs of our young people who are sexually active but want to avoid unplanned pregnancies?

They have the same right to this information as married or older couples do, and yet we keep this from them. Ironically enough, birth control information is made available once you are pregnant and already have a child. For many teenage girls, this is an intervention that is too little, too late.

Let’s try to reimagine having a different pregnancy prevention conversation – one that considers what our young people want and what they need, according to them, not according to what we adults might think is right for them.

What if we called it for what it is? Birth control. An option to plan and control when you get pregnant and how often. An option that is viable for anyone who is sexually active.

Would it empower our young people to think about birth control as an option of a reponsible individual?

Teen pregnancy is a complex problem that will need layered solutions. One obvious barrier is the clause in the current Reproductive Health Law that restricts minors from availing themselves of birth control at public health clinics without parental consent. Comprehensive sex education that covers everything from abstinence to IUDs and vasectomy, knowledge about having healthy romantic relationships, access to contraception methods, as well as the guidance of parents or trusted adults are also interventions that must be included.

It will be a long and continuous dialogue, but what if we started by having honest and open conversations about pregnancy prevention, one that is more inclusive than “family planning”? What if we started calling it birth control instead?– Rappler.com

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MANILA, Philippines – Usap-usapan ngayon online ang Van Gogh Alive exhibit sa Taguig City na magbubukas ngayong Oktubre. Pero ang isyu ay hindi lamang tungkol sa mga obra ng bantog na pintor na si Vincent van Gogh na makikita sa exhibit.

Mayroon kasing nag-comment sa social media tungkol sa "intensyon" ng ilang gustong pumunta sa nasabing exhibit. Ika niya, magiging pang-content o pang-picture lang ang mga obra ni Van Gogh sa social media feeds ng mga netizens at influences, at hindi raw naman ito nagbibigay ng respeto sa artista. Naging "super mainstream" na rin daw kasi si Van Gogh.

Binalikan naman siya ng netizens, at sinabihang "elitista" o "gatekeeper" siya.

May tama bang paraan sa pag-appreciate ng art? Dapat bang pigilan ang mga nagpapa-picture sa harap ng mga painting? Nagsasawa na ba kayo sa mga posts na ang caption ay: "In a room full of art, I’d still stare at you"?

Sa podcast episode na ito, babasahin din nina Chito, Paul, at Michael ang mga nakakatawa at memorable na museum o field trip experience ng ilang tagapakinig. – Rappler.com

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