A Spoonful of Sugar 2003, v.9
The Power of One
By Niña Rica Marie L. Terol


After that somewhat depressing piece on causes and morality, I feel compelled to write about hope, and about how we can still do something despite all the madness that goes on around us.

I’m not going to write about it in abstract terms. Let’s just say that I was fortunate enough to have been “reunited” with a fellow artist and advocate whose only passion is to make his community a better place, and I’d like to share his story with everyone here. If this seems like the work of an enamored poet, then I apologize. It’s been a source of inspiration for me, and I hope that it will somehow make you think about your life’s possibilities.

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He had a crazy idea way back in college.

He noticed that many of the kids in the Ateneo grew up in sheltered environments, and were oblivious to the social ills that pervaded Philippine urban society. Yes, they had their theology and philosophy classes, but the things that they discussed in class were so abstract that these didn’t compel students to take action.

He couldn’t bring the students out of their comfort zones, so he brought the symbols of these social ills right smack in front of the students’ faces, where they would no longer be ignored.

One Christmas, he worked to bring in hundreds of streetchildren from the Katipunan and Marikina areas to the Ateneo campus, where they would be treated to a day of fun and games, food and friendship. It was a simple gesture, but it forced students to acknowledge what was happening just outside the campus gates. People became more aware of the changes that needed to be made in society. The project clicked. Thus began an Ateneo Christmas tradition.

He knew that his pet project was only the beginning of a lifetime of servant-leadership.

This man was fond of comics, and he related most with Batman because of the latter’s “humanness”. The Dark Knight didn’t have any inate superpowers, and yet he had outwitted and overcome many a powerful adversary. It was just the sort of thing that he himself wanted to do.

He got his chance when his family was thrust into the political arena, and when public service became a large part of his life.

But he wasn’t just a social activist; he was a musician and an athlete as well. And he masterfully fused these gifts to introduce change in his community.

With his kulintang, his kahon (a box-drum), and 5-gallon water bottles that doubled as congas, he introduced indigenous music and culture to the urban folk. In a city that was (and still is) run by celebrity-politicians, his work gave people a sense of history and dignity. With his arnis sticks and fellow arnisadors, he empowered the barangay tanods and brought some semblance of security into the communities (with an indigenous martial art, no less). Now he is taking things a step further by fusing arnis and percussion in a performance art that is distinctly Filipino.

He is a struggling artist, but his struggles go beyond artistic expression, financial stability, and fame.

Seeing him work from up close has given me a reason to believe that things can get better for our country. He is just one man, and yet he has already created ripples of change in our community—ripples that will, in time, grow to be waves of real, sustained progress.

People may scoff at his efforts, for art, music, and culture are really “just” peripheral concerns. How about feeding the poor? Educating the ignorant? Healing the sick? Serving justice to the marginalized?

Oh, he gets into that, too. But it’s his art which he feels most passionate about. It’s his art which uplifts the spirits of his cityfolk and makes them feel that they have an ally from “the other side” of the societal spectrum. It’s his art which galvanizes both young and old people from his community to make real and significant changes. His art has breathed life into our rotting little city.

It’s amazing what art can do.

Having been born into a well-off family, and being the son of a political figure, he could have chosen to bum around and live off his parents’ fortunes. He could have been like other coke-sniffing, gun-toting political brats who live each day as if they were half-dead. Instead, he has chosen to take up his own cause and use his resources to uplift the lives of those in need.

He gets tired. He gets very, very tired, but he also finds that he can hardly sleep at night. Knowing that he lives each day with a purpose, however, gives him enough strength to forge on and devote yet another day to serving his community.

It’s amazing what one person can do.

And imagine what will happen if more people decided to stop yakking and start moving in the right direction.

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“To realize one’s destiny is a person’s only obligation.” ~ Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

(Written: August 11, 2003)

A Spoonful of Sugar 2003, v.8
How far can we really go?
By Niña Rica Marie L. Terol

I had been thinking about Nikko’s question for some time now, and the recent hullabaloo caused by the Magdalo “rebellion” has left my mind even more awake and aware of the moral issue surrounding causes. Many people are willing to fight and die for their respective causes, and that is noble in itself. However, if their willingness to fight and die will also put other (innocent) people in the line of fire, then does their end really justify their means?

I’m not here to give my two cents’ worth on the alleged rebellion. Much has been said about that already. Besides, I’ll just find myself in the midst of a heated debate if I start talking about that now, because people close to me know that I take a hard-core, but “unusual”, stand on the issue. (That’s also the reason for this column’s delay; I had been debating internally about what I would say when I finally got down to writing this piece.)

What I want to do, rather, is pick everyone’s brains on these questions:

Does the end justify the means?

If so, then how far can we really go to defend the things and values that we believe in?

If not, then why talk about passions and causes at all, if at some point we would find ourselves compromising our principles and beliefs just to do what everyone presumes to be right?

If we were to rely on our own moral compasses for the answers to these questions, then how would passionate and well-meaning, but poorly educated and hungry, persons respond to this? What should we make of their answers?

In the same breath, who are we to say that it is the intellectual class that holds the key to questions surrounding moral judgment?

How can we defend traditional views regarding right and wrong when everything around us is so distorted and f—king screwed?

You cannot imagine how these questions have given me several weeks’ worth of sleepless nights. For aside from the Magdalo “rebellion”, my recent affiliations have opened my eyes to many more issues that seem to run towards a dead end. Politics, religion, drugs, technology, culture, national identity… these are just some of the concepts that have been piercing my brain ever since I decided to “take the red pill” and get out of my sheltered cocoon.

*Sigh…* Is this the price that one has to pay for wanting to know more about the real world?

I’d hate to lose Spoonful’s light and perky flavor, but I really hope you’d indulge me on this one.

Does anyone have any answers, or at least some ideas? Please send your responses to spoonfulofsugar2003@lycos.com.

(Written: August 10, 2003)