The Woman Named Cory: A Biographical Sketch

I’m currently immersed in texts having to do with the Cory Aquino years. As part of my academic ritual (something I do variably to enable myself to somehow capture the zeitgeist within a period of national leadership), I have retyped a section of my undergraduate thesis, the hard copy of which my sister sent me sometime last year upon my request.

 

Based on my interview with President Aquino in May 1997 and what I could extract from the cobwebbed sections of the UPLB library then, the following was written eleven years ago today. It’s a biographical sketch which appears before my rhetorical analyses of her selected speeches.  So this is how I wrote then. I somehow liked to make things a bit convoluted. I think nothing has changed significantly:

 

Who is Cory Aquino?

 

On January 25, 1933, the day Cory Aquino, christened Maria Corazon Sumulong Cojuangco was born, her parents Jose Cojuangco and Demetria Sumulong might not have expected that fifty-three years and a month later, their sixth child would be sworn in as the eleventh president of Asia’s first republic.  Nor might have Cory, herself, dreamt of becoming the leader of the Filipino nation, especially during the time when she became the wife of no other than the Benjamin of the Philippine Senate.  If the woman had any inclination, it might have dissipated after she got married to the charismatic “Son of Tarlac.” “I felt my primary obligation was to be a good wife and mother,” she would recount later. “I never thought of a separate career for myself. I believe that (being a good wife and mother) was my primary duty.” Little did she know that the Filipino people’s power would bless her with a career that would significantly change the direction of her life.

 

Some genealogists would contend that Cory’s apparent “noblesse oblige” and involvement in the mainstream Philippine politics were her birthmarks.  Her father, Jose Cojuangco owned vast tracts of lands in Central Luzon.  He was a third-generation descendant of Jose Cojuangco Sr., a Chinese who had come to the Philippines from Fukien province in 1836.  Due to hard work and frugality, Jose Sr. acquired lands in the town of Paniqui from which business thrived (Burton 1989). Cory’s mother, Demetria Sumulong was a U.P. graduate of pharmacy and daughter of Juan Sumulong, touted as the “brains of the opposition” during the Commonwealth Government headed by President Manuel L. Quezon. It is said that the old Sumulong “spoke loudly against the domination of the elite” and advocated the gradual independence in contrast to the Nacionalistas who favored immediate independence.

 

Though blessed with affluence generated from the vast properties of the Cojuangcos, Cory grew up to be frugal.  She in fact used hand-me-down Scholastican uniforms from elder sisters Josephine and Teresita but is remembered to have complained only once about their faded look (Sunday Inquirer Magazine, January 21, 1990).

 

On the one hand, summers and weekends in Paniqui with her siblings would expose her early to politics; on the other hand, the schools she attended significantly took part in building her individual character. St. Scholastica’s College, where she graduated sixth grade valedictorian, provided her “great influence in religion.” The French-run Assumption Convent, where she stayed for a year, “stressed social consciousness and the importance of being a lady.” The College of Mount St. Vincent in New York, where she majored in French and mathematics, taught her the habit of prayer and punctuality. After finishing her undergraduate studies in the United States, she came back to the country and studied law “as a discipline” at the Far Eastern University.  She, however, stopped schooling, a year later when she married Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino Jr.

 

Her marriage to Ninoy relegated her to the traditional woman roles which she accepted with open arms.  Having been blessed with five children, Cory took the role of a full-time mother.  She narrates, “Because I was married to a politician, I felt it more urgent to take care of my children.  I think that it’s no secret in this country of ours even in other countries that children of politicians tend to be left in the care of others…so you hear of many problems connected with children of politicians.”

 

As a concerned parent, Cory tells: “I would enroll them, I’d take care of all the material needs and would also help them in doing their homework and I would also be very busy in attending PTA meetings.” Cory would also accompany them to movies and children’s parties. She would say emphatically, “Talagang, full time mother and also very supportive wife.” As a wife, Cory remained in the background of her husband Ninoy whose growing popularity during the Marcos presidency had made great expectations that he would succeed the first Philippine President to be elected for two terms.

 

Ninoy’s fiery oratory in the Senate made him so prominent that President Marcos himself felt threatened.  When President Marcos declared martial rule in 1972, Ninoy’s burning ambition to become the country’s next president was quelled.  The young Senator was incarcerated a day after President Marcos signed Proclamation 1081. For seven years and seven months, the passionate oratorical pieces emanating from the Benjamin of the Senate were deliberately kept by the Marcos forces from being heard by the Filipino people and the outside world.  At the same time, however, the housewifely Cory was starting to experience a shift from her traditional roles.  In those years, she was virtually exposed to political education.  Her number one professor was her husband. She became Ninoy’s clear channel to the outside world despite experiencing the rigors and mental tortures accorded by tyranny to loved ones of political prisoners.  Cory’s significant role during those critical times is best expressed in the concluding passages of Ninoy’s lengthy closing statement before the military tribunal:

 

“Hopefully, with the end of these proceedings, the woman who is the hope and light of my life’s dark night will be delivered from her anxiety and anguish.  She had stood by me with unshakable faith, unruffled and undeterred by the endless humiliations, the abandonment of friends, and the heavy burdens of having to be a teacher, father, mother and provider for my children. She has been the healing oasis in the desert of my prison.”

 

In her book, Time magazine correspondent Sandra Burton comments that Ninoy’s belated public acknowledgment of the role of Cory “foreshadowed the emergence of a new politics of conscience from out of his experience under martial rule.”  If we are to look at it in the politico-spiritual framework, the inclusion of this relatively short but significant detail in Ninoy’s closing statement would make us think of the Magnificat in the New Testament and compare Cory to Mary, mother of Christ.  Interestingly, both women have earned the title “Woman of History.”

 

On March 19, 1980, Ninoy suffered a heart attack.  To Cory, this was instrumental for his release.  Almost two months later, the Aquino family was allowed to leave the country for Ninoy’s operation in the United States. The next three years would be, according to Cory, "the happiest years of (their) lives together.”

 

Ninoy Aquino, however, relentlessly struggled to bring back democracy in the Philippines.  Realizing the importance of struggling in his home country, he decided to return to the Philippines and continue his struggle. But before he set his foot on the tarmac of Manila International Airport on August 21, 1983, he was shot to death.  His death would trigger the opposition and the people to reinforce the seemingly endless and futile struggle against President Marcos’s dictatorship.  This would be culminated by a four-day exercise of “people power” at the Epifanio delos Santos Avenue (EDSA).

 

For three years after Ninoy’s assassination, Cory committed herself to joining the opposition leaders in challenging the strongman.  At one point, she was asked what conditions would prompt her to seek the presidency. Answering the question before members of a sorority based in the University of the Philippines, Cory gave two conditions: first a petition with at least one million signatures urging her to run for president, and second, “If Marcos calls for a snap elections.” Giving these two conditions was a genuine show of reluctance. Cory would narrate, “I wanted to make the situations almost impossible. And at that time, for Marcos to declare and call for snap elections is unthinkable because he would still be there until 1987.  So why should they call for early elections?  And in the case of one million people signing up for me, it’s really quite a task because so many people were still afraid of the dictator.  So I felt I was more or less safe with those conditions.”

 

Unexpectedly for Cory, however, the conditions she gave at the gathering in UP were met, propelling her to vie for the presidency. On November 3, 1985, President Marcos called for snap elections in an interview on This Week with David Brinkley, an American Sunday morning news program.  On the other hand, Chino Roces, owner-publisher of the Manila Times and an elderly activist, was able to gather one million signatures petitioning Cory to run for president. Invoking providential guidance, she sought for reflection and retreat in the Holy Spirit Adoration Sisters.  Finally, she filed her candidacy for President. The election campaign, describes Time magazine, would turn out to be a “clash of symbols.” Cory stood out to become the anti-thesis of the dictator.  Marcos, on the other hand, argued that his challenger had no experience in politics and had not acted as an ideal woman, whose place, he said, is in the bedroom.

 

The election was reported to have been marred by massive cheating, leading thirty computer tabulators to walk out.  Unperturbed by the alleged tampering of the results, Ferdinand E. Marcos proclaimed himself winner. Defiant, Cory with the help of Cardinal Sin, called for civil disobedience.  The rest that followed was history.

 

As president, Cory presided over the transition from dictatorship to democracy.  She led the country in restoring basic rights and freedom. Some of her earliest achievements during her term were the ratification of the 1987 Constitution and the restoration or the reestablishment of the Philippine Congress and the Supreme Court. She also introduced economic and social reforms. She encouraged participatory democracy through non-governmental organizations and people’s organizations.  Her term, however, was marred by many problems.  Her government faced seven coup attempts two of which were most devastating – the August 1987 and December 1989 events.  The instability experienced by the country during her term led some people to regard her as weak. She in fact turned out to be the best scapegoat of some journalists, Marcos loyalists and opposition leaders.  Moreover, the country was faced by some of the worst calamities in modern history.  These were the July 1990 earthquake and the Mount Pinatubo eruption in 1991.  Cory, however, survived the worst situations that had happened during her time. In 1992, she was able to finish her term successfully with a peaceful transfer of power.  Throughout her presidency, her leadership style was defined by the virtues of sincerity, integrity, religiosity and humility.

 

Since her assumption to power, Cory has received several citations and awards and has been continually invited to speak in international and national conferences and gatherings of professionals, academicians, the media and some sectoral groups. She had been conferred several honorary degrees in universities in the Philippines, United States, Japan, Hong Kong, Taiwan and Italy. She was named Time magazine’s “Woman of the Year for 1986.”  She was likewise given the “Politician of the Year Award” by Saudi Gazette and by the Japan Broadcasting Company.  Her awards and prizes also include the Martin Luther King, Jr. Nonviolent Peace Prize, the Noel Award for Political Leadership by the United Nations Development Fund for Women, 1993 Special Awards from the Aurora Aragon Quezon Peace Awards Foundation and Concerned Women of the Philippines. In 1996, she received the J. William Fulbright Prize.  She was preceded by South African leader Nelson Mandela.  On April 24, 1997, she spoke before members of the University of Oregon as the Carlton Raymond and Wilberta Ripley Savage Professor for 1997.

 

As a private citizen, Cory Aquino has maintained her role as an articulator of the pulse of the people.  On September 21, 1997, she had served to consolidate people’s movement against hideous attempts to change the Constitution.  She was named “Filipino of the Year” by the Philippine Daily Inquirer on January 8, 1998.

 

In essence, Cory Aquino has continued to be what Theodore Roosevelt called “the man (or woman) in the arena…who strives, who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and, at worst, if he fails, does it daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

 

Cory has indeed metamorphosed – from a frugal heir to the Cojuangco fortune to being a “wife at the background” of a political star; from a suffering mother of five to a symbolic Mater Dolorosa of a nation almost divided; from a grieving widow to a defiant public woman; from a referent leader to a legitimate one; from a favorite subject to a favorite scapegoat; from President to private citizen; from a religious leader to a weaver of the nation’s moral fiber.  This transformation – criticized and romanticized, insulted and exalted, pierced and loved – contributed to her indelibly unique place in Philippine history. With that, her life and political career deserve the light of scholarship.

 

 

From: Corazon C. Aquino: The Leader as a Rhetorician and Her Place in Philippine History. Unpublished Undergraduate Thesis. Department of Humanities, College of Arts and Sciences, University of the Philippines Los Baños, March 1998, pp. 21-28.

 

 

"Tender Fires" (Part 2)

Was Jesus sexual?  The book’s section on Jesus and sexuality ably puts into context the furor generated by such products of imaginative literature as “The Last Temptation of Christ” or “Da Vinci Code” – works that tend to challenge the validity of what seems to be taken-for-granted in the public mind.  The authors acknowledge that the New Testament is a product of its time and therefore, it is possible to think that it might have left out details about Jesus’ marital status or his most human experiences throughout his life. I shall not dwell too much into this but just to give prospective readers a peek into what the authors have to say about Jesus as a sexual being, here are some lines from Tender Fires:

 

“If sexuality is a God-given energy that draws all of us into relationships of love and care, then Jesus is among the most sexual beings who ever lived.  The story of his life is filled with intimate encounters with other people, and he made loving the primary mark of discipleship.” (p. 203)

 

“If someday we were to learn that Jesus was married that he made love with the same sensitivity, intensity, and passion that energized his ministry, would it make a difference for our faith?  If such a discovery would trouble us, perhaps this says more about our attitudes toward sexuality than it does about Jesus.  In the end, his marital status is not the real question.  Was he faithful in his commitment? Did he love with whole-hearted passion? Did his relationships with people make their lives a little less burdened?” (pp. 205, 208)

 

The sacred erotic

 

Engaging is how I would describe Tender Fires’ take on the erotic. In discussing this, the authors subvert the artificial dichotomy created by such ideas that what is erotic is mundane while the “love of God” or what is called “agape” is divine. In fact, the authors’ use of the following epigraph from lesbian Caribbean-American poet and activist Audre Lorde as a spin off point for discussion says a lot about the authors’ illuminating reflections:

 

“The very word ‘erotic’ comes from the Greek word eros, the personification of love in all its aspects – born of Chaos, and personifying creative power and harmony.  When I speak of the erotic, then I speak of it as an assertion of the life-force of women; of that creative energy empowered, the knowledge and use of which we are now reclaiming in our language, our history, our dancing, our loving, our work, our lives.” (p. 96)

 

To Ferder and Heagle, “Authentic eros… is not only hungry but also creative and generous. It wants to receive and give.”

 

‘The future of human loving’ (pp. 229-246)

 

Towards the end of the book, the authors call for a movement, a shift in perspective, in ways of viewing sexuality in the light of the evolving human consciousness. They articulate the following vision statements that, expressed in “contemporary terminology” not in “creedal statements or ethical mandates from the past,” they (the authors) hope to lend credibility to the truly timeless, enduring values of their faith tradition.

 

1. From a static to a developmental understanding of psychosexuality

 

2. From an emphasis on biological procreation to the more inclusive understanding of generativity as the goal of giving life

 

3. From speaking of sexuality as primarily as sexual behavior to expanding it to include energy for relationships

 

4. From suspicion of sexuality to its reverence and celebration as sacred energy

 

5. From sex education for youth to psychosexual formation for lifelong partners

 

6. From dualism to integration as the framework for a spirituality of human sexuality

 

7. From identifying sexual sin as illicit genital pleasure to recognizing it as the violation of persons

 

8. From patriarchy to partnership as the philosophical mindset for determining sexual and gender ethics

 

9. From sexual abstinence to reverence in relationships as the hallmark of psychosexual wholeness and holiness

 

These statements, I believe, are important to our contemporary debates that include among others the passage of a reproductive health bill, the integration of “sex education” in the school curricula or even the marriage of persons of the same gender (e.g., Can we truly say that marriage is the only legitimate space or, to borrow a line from the authors, “holy ground” for genital expression or sharing?)

 

I leave future readers to engage in a dialogue with the articulations of these statements in the final pages of Tender Fires, but I would like to leave at least a line or two on one of the vision statements mentioned above – particularly the one on generativity.

I remember being told by a friend several years ago that most gay people particularly those who do not have or bear children of their flesh and blood are actually “genetically selfish” since they do not contribute to the genetic pool. This is of course a myopic view of life-giving. The concept of generativity expands what it means to “give life.” It acknowledges that life-giving happens even beyond the genital aspects of our sexuality. As my playwright friend would tell me, “There are many ways of giving birth; one could give birth to a book, an art work, or even an institution” (One could very well interpret that of course as a resort to Freudian sublimation!)

 

But generativity is actually much more than accomplishing feats that undeniably have impact on other people’s lives. Quite relevant to our changing times, this broader understanding of life-giving, the authors suggest, impact even “our approach to the rainforests and rivers, the air and soil.”

 

At the risk of sounding redundant, I say that this beautifully written book is a must read for those who want to reaffirm the Christian faith tradition but who at the same time would like to critically engage in a dialogue on issues on sexuality that continue to confront our human existence. I would like to end this two-part series with the epigraph from which the authors Fran Ferder and John Heagle drew their inspiration for Tender Fires. They are the prophetic words of mystic and Jesuit philosopher Pierre Teilhard de Chardin:

 

“Some day after we have mastered the winds, the waves, the tides, and gravity, we will harness for God the energies of love, and then, for the second time in the history of the world, we will have discovered fire.”

 Acknowledgments:

Poster from the movie "The Last Temptation of Christ" directed by Martin Scorsese

Photo of Audre Lorde from http://cache.eb.com

Pencil drawing of "Jesus and Women" by Jean Keaton

Photos of me by Lorie Santos, Fred Oplado, and Angie Wong

 

 

“Tender Fires”: Some notes on sexuality, spirituality, and the ‘sacred erotic’ in the evolving human consciousness (Part 1)

I am as sexual and as capable of loving as any person currently enjoying the pleasures of his/her intimate relationship with his/her partner.  And that will remain so even if, due to circumstances or due to personal choice, I should end up celibate all my life.

That conviction is reaffirmed by the book, Tender Fires: The Spiritual Promise of Sexuality. Written in a prose style that combines philosophical insights with snippets of general knowledge and what may be construed as “commonsensical,” this gem of a book by Franciscan Sister Fran Ferder and Father John Heagle is a delight to read. Thanks to Ate Lourie (Victor), dear friend and a guiding light of our community of practice in the Philippines, for giving me a copy of the book – a very precious gift on Christmas 2008.

I would perhaps consider this text as one of the most provocative readings of my (relatively) young life. Riveting, radical and refreshing, the book, I must hasten to add, does not sensationalize issues about human sexuality and how they have been historically conceptualized in the Judeo-Christian faith traditions, but it definitely invites controversy – which is good. It is through controversy that people start to talk about, and perhaps, redefine their constructed social realities. It is controversy that invites us to see that our definitions are actually nebulous and that further negotiations can or should be made.

The book is certainly not dogmatic. In contextualizing human sexuality in the faith tradition of Christianity, it successfully veers away from providing definitive answers to controversial questions, a common feature of texts and publications steeped in the ways of dogmatism and orthodoxy. Like any good book, Tender Fires invites readers to think and think further, to question what is, and to engage themselves in a dialogue.

A thorough and incisive review of the text would perhaps generate several treatises on human sexuality and its interface with spirituality. I am honestly not ready to do that. So in this entry, I feature only some of the textual extracts which I find very interesting – words over which I have mulled during these past few days and which I intend to use as points of departure for future personal reflections. (The pictures of me and the statues at Haw Par Villa – courtesy of friend Angie Wong – should not be taken as visual interpretations of the book. They’re meant to provide those who dare read this blog a somewhat playful form of respite, especially if s/he gets exhausted by plowing through my usually torturous, convoluted and lengthy prose.)

Sexuality and the questions on love and life-giving

An important point raised by the authors is how sexuality should be understood. Sexuality cannot be merely reduced to “genitality” or “genital expression” or “genital sharing” (that is, in the words of DH Lawrence, “having sex”).

Sexuality, the authors argue, is a relational energy. Genital expression, in all its forms, is just a component of sexuality. “Sexuality is love energy.  It refers to the spiritual, emotional, physical, psychological, social, and cultural aspects of relating to one another as embodied male and female persons” (p. 29)

They add, “Sexuality, a still evolving term, has to do with all the ways we try to reach one another at the level of the heart. It involves our efforts to communicate, our acts of tenderness, and even our struggle to find each other again after an argument.  It is the constantly burning fire within us that compels us to turn toward one another” (Ibid.).

Seen this way, sexuality is something that everyone has a capacity of exercising. Even the religious, who, by choice, are celibate, can be considered sexual beings when they exert effort to relate with other people. Sexuality is present in all aspects of human-to-human relations.

The authors further point out that “[t]he central question regarding our sexuality is not about our gender, ethnic background, age, vocation, sexual orientation, faith tradition, or even religious and moral convictions, though each of these helps define our uniqueness.  But in our heart of hearts – and we believe in God’s eyes – the core issue is not whether we’re married or single, divorced or remarried, celibate or sexually active, gay or straight, wounded or well, old or young, male or female.  The central question is:  How can I – in the unique circumstances of my life and with God’s help and grace – become a more responsible love and life-giver? How can I receive the gift of life more reverently and humbly?  How can I give life more creatively and joyfully? How can I receive love with more trust and mutuality? How can I give love with more freedom and generosity?”  (pp. 21-22).

The book does not offer quick answers to these questions. In the succeeding sections, the authors invite the readers to reflect on their own stories and the embodied experiences of people on ground.

Same-gender love

Perhaps, one of the more controversial issues brought up by the authors is that of sexual diversity, particularly of same-gender love. 

In exploring this issue, the authors raise the question, “Did God create human persons to fall in love outside the confines of heterosexuality?” which they indirectly address with a rather controversial yet convincing point from a member of the faithful on the ground:  “This is the conviction among those who believe that same-gender love expresses acceptable sexual diversity. ‘Love is what is important.  It is the heart of Christian vocation.  God created the universe with diversity in all other areas.  It is difficult to believe that such a God could imagine only one acceptable way in which human love could be expressed sexually.  Same-gender love might even represent a natural way of limiting overpopulation.’ This statement, spoken passionately by an Episcopalian minister whose son is gay, resonates with many in our church communities who find no contradiction between fidelity to Gospel values and faithful, committed love between two persons of the same gender” (p. 76).

The statement from the Episcopalian minister may of course invite strong counter-arguments or counter-propositions. Moreover, his views may be dismissed for apparently being defensive of his gay son. But if sexuality is seen as a relational energy, then any human being should be capable of loving any of his fellow human beings – man or woman, gay or straight.  The position is also warranted by the authors’ conviction that the Creation Story is a “work in progress, an unfinished symphony of God’s desire to be known and be heard.” They concur with contemporary cosmologists that the universe is ever-expanding and that one of the fundamental dynamics at work in this expansion is differentiation.

“Differentiation,” the authors explain, “describes God’s creative energy as it expands outwardly creating time and space. It encompasses the variety and uniqueness of every snowflake, seabird, flower, and agate, all of which reveal a diversity that is as colorful as it is incomprehensible. Each galaxy and person is unique. Apparently our God delights in such profligate variety and invites us also to rejoice in the heavens and the earth ‘with all their array’ (Gn 2:11)” (pp. 82-83).

Viewed from a rather secular perspective, differentiation recognizes the human capacity to undo certain social structures or categories like gender (in this case, heterosexuality) that restrict what Judith Butler calls “greater livability.”  As Butler points out, “The experience of normative restriction becoming undone can undo a prior conception of who one is only to inaugurate a relatively newer one that has greater livability as its aim” (p. 1, Undoing Gender, 2004).

I believe greater livability is the point of embracing the diversity of the world around us and consequently, the uniqueness of every living thing.

The Reader

Rating:	★★★★
Category:	Movies
Genre:	Drama

Curious of the love scenes between a fifteen year-old kid and a woman more than twice his age, I watched Academy award-nominated “The Reader” at Vivo on Tuesday afternoon.

The passionate scenes were, to say the least, arresting. They definitely add up to my repertoire of images of intimacy and human touch. What struck me more than the unconventional love affair between the 15 year-old Michael Berg and 30 plus year-old Hannah Schmitz, though, was the film’s portrayal of oral interpretation (oral reading) as “a re-creative art” and of literacy both as an instrument of liberation and oppression especially of the non-literate (or of those still operating in the realm of oral cultures).

Listening to the 15 year-old Michael read stories from great literature out loud to Hannah (as part of their lovemaking ritual) brought to mind memories of one of the courses I taught back in the UP. I taught Oral Interpretation for two semesters in Los Banos and if I were to teach that course again, I would include the film in my list of required audio-visual texts.

Oral interpretation – the study of literature via performance – features the text and makes use of body, voice, and other accoutrements to suggest the life of prose or poetry as understood by the reader after a careful study of the literary piece. Unlike that of acting or impersonating, oral interpretation’s primary goal is for the piece of literature to come alive from the printed page; the performer is merely a vessel through which listeners get a taste of literature as performed – as it should be, that is. (More sophisticated speech departments have renamed this area “performance studies” which has generated a number of advanced theories on text and performance.)

The film’s take on oral interpretation gets more riveting when an older Michael records his oral reading/ interpretation of great – more like “canonical” – literature on tape: from Homer’s epic “Odyssey” to Anton Chekov’s “The Lady with the Little Dog.” He sends these tapes to Hannah in her cell in Germany, who at this time was serving life sentence for war crimes during the Nazi regime.

Ralph Fiennes’ Michael, definitely crispier in his renditions of literary masterpieces, suggests that the performer is a living text. What can be gleaned from the older Michael is a more experienced performer whose life intertwined with the life of the literature he reads out loud re-creates art in a much more mature and more informed fashion compared to how he read them orally when he was a kid with raging hormones.

Then there’s the part on literacy. Hannah Schmitz’s character – ably portrayed by Kate Winslet – is an illiterate tram conductor who later in the film is revealed to have worked as one of the guards for a Nazi satellite. She is later tried and sentenced for life for an act she accepts with full responsibility but for which evidence available to Michael’s character (this time as a law student witnessing the trial) proves otherwise. In this gripping story, Hannah would rather choose to be punished incommensurate to her participation in the war than to experience the shame of being discovered illiterate.

The depiction of Hannah’s debilitating illiteracy has its ups though – at least to me as a viewer. Her appreciation of a book read aloud – of the spoken word – seems rare and distinct from how most of today’s and even the previous generations would find, say, Homer’s “Odyssey” interpreted orally. Thanks to Kate Winslet, Hannah’s character as a non-literate woman but whose mind operates in an oral culture comes very much alive to me.

In his classic book “Orality and Literacy: The Technologizing of the Word” (1982), Walter Ong characterizes thought and expression in the primary oral culture as “additive rather than subordinative”; “aggregative rather than analytic” (reliance on formula); “redundant or copious”; “conservative or traditionalist” (premium on old wise men); “close to the human lifeworld” (little concern with abstraction); “agonistically toned”; “empathetic and participatory rather than objectively distanced”; “homeostatic”; and “situational rather than abstract.” Some of these features are evident in Winslet’s characterization of Hannah. Her empathetic reaction towards every story becomes startling because it is something most people trained in written and printed (chirographic and typographic) cultures would not express. For instance, her utter embarrassment at hearing the words from DH Lawrence’s controversial “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” manifests in some way her mental model’s closeness to the human life world. Hannah is also portrayed by Winslet as agonistically toned – argumentative and aggressive – especially in the courtroom scene where Hannah responds to the judge’s questions on her participation in the Nazi regime.

One of Ong’s important insights about the oral mind is that it is most capable of listening intently and appreciatively to every sound it hears; it can also create patterns – mnemonics – to preserve what it deems worth preserving in memory. Hannah, it seemed, held on to the sound of great literature to remember what is beautiful about human nature and the world in order to erase from her memory the horrors of the past. Interestingly, it is the electronic medium (represented by the recorder and the cassette tapes bearing Michael’s recorded oral readings) that ushers her entry into the written/ chirographic world.

Much as I would like to be celebratory about the beauty of the oral mind, it remains a fact that in a world once dominated by the printed word, and now, by the electronic media, the wisdom of orality as demonstrated by non-literate peoples will always be relegated to the sidelines. While the film is outright about its take on (il)literacy – that there is no other way but to promote literacy to liberate the human mind – it also brings to the fore what literacy can do to marginalize or even to disable people.

A text-centric culture relies on, and therefore submits fully to, the primacy of the documented written or printed word. At the time Hannah was on trial, the written documents – a published account of Jewish oppression from a mother and a daughter who survived the Holocaust and a report attested to by Hannah and the other defendants – were supreme. They were the warrants and the back-ups that supported the link between data and claim, between stories of eyewitnesses and the accusations for which the defendants were tried. They constituted a part of the history of the Holocaust and the war.

While there is a lot to celebrate about literacy, it cannot be denied that it can also obliterate that which can be expressed in ways other than writing or print. To some extent, it simplifies the complexity of what has been. It shuns information and insight from that which is unavailable to the silent reader. Admirably, “The Reader” – communicated through a medium that uses visual text and the spoken, written and printed words – subtly poses this problem to its viewers for them to ponder and to think about.

Snippets of UPLB History: The Humanities (Part 3)

DEPARTMENT OF LANGUAGES
(Last of three parts)


by Edelwina Cu-Legaspi


Earlier, in 1953, the English courses were revised to give the students as much as was possible and profitable in the few English courses they had to attend. Accordingly, English 1a and 1b, both three-unit courses, gave way to English 1 (two units), English 2 (two units), and English 3 (three units), thereby affording the English instructor additional hours in which to try to develop communication skills, disseminate information, stimulate independent thinking, and mold character. After finishing these three subjects, the honors curriculum students were required to take English 10 (Scientific Reporting); those in the general curriculum, English 4 (Literature in English); and those in agricultural education, English 11 (Public Speaking). To most members of the staff, English 4 has been the most “fulfilling” subject. One of the few courses in the College that are less concerned with technical skills, it seeks to bring out the individual who can live and work healthily and happily with himself and with others.

The extracurricular work of the Department of Languages has increased even though it no longer proofreads for the Philippine Agriculturist. Its members still read for English theses and other manuscripts of students and faculty members. Some are members of college standing committees, others are resource persons on communication skills for the Community Development Training Center . A few are advisers of student organizations and the College organ, Aggie Green and Gold.  Others direct student plays and sit as moderators and judges in student forums and contests. Half a dozen serve during registrations in various capacities. The foreign students who come to the College inadequately prepared to take up work in English attend special tutorial classes held by Languages instructors. For the Department of Agricultural Education, the Language staff edited and proofread high school teaching materials prepared by the Department in collaboration with the Bureau of Public Schools. In addition to this, a couple of English instructors are detailed every now and then to handle high school classes, reversing the situation in the earlier days when the Department of Languages had borrowed from other departments to reinforce its staff.  One instructor handles Philippine Institutions 1, a newly instituted course, while the Department of Agricultural Education searched for a qualified staff to teach it.  Another conducts research for the Philippine Historical Association of which he is a charter member and gives language examinations for prospective candidates for advanced degrees. Another member has been supervisor of the Maquiling School for years. 

The Department is not wanting in “lighter” work either. On various social occasions members of the staff have contributed a number or two to programs; the ladies serve on the Loyalty Day luncheon committee.  In December, 1958, the Department presented Sam and Bella Spewack’s amoral-sentimental comedy My Three Angels, the proceeds from which went into the purchase of badly needed stage curtains for the Baker Hall. To give residents their fill of classical music, the Department formed the Art Appreciation Club which meets every month. In the funding campaign of the College for the Golden Jubilee celebrations, the Languages staff spearheaded the drive by holding a Mardi Gras night which netted a neat amount.

Although the Department has concentrated on the practical use of English to agricultural students all these years, it has not lost sight of three of the major goals of all language arts instruction: “wholesome personal development, growing intellectual curiosity and the capacity for critical thinking, and deeper understanding of the reasons for faith in and allegiance to the basic values of a democratic society."

It is every Languages Instructor's hope to achieve these goals in any subject he handles now and will handle in the future. At the time of the writing of this report, materials for the proposed Speech Clinic, a Rockefeller gift, have started trickling in.  Plans are afoot to include a humanities course in the contemplated revised curriculum. When all these plans materialize, indeed, the Department of Languages, like Bacon, will have taken unto itself a vast province.

Source: Philippine Agriculturist, Volume XLIII, Number 1, June 1959.

Snippets of UPLB History: The Humanities (Part 2)

Below is the second part of the article written by Professor Edelwina C. Legaspi published in the special issue of the Philippine Agriculturist (Volume XLIII, Number 1, June 1959) in honor of the University of the Philippines College of Agriculture’s golden jubilee.

DEPARTMENT OF LANGUAGES
(Second of three parts)

by Edelwina Cu-Legaspi

When the Americans returned, it was only natural to expect the reestablishment of English as a separate department. But the heavy toll that the Japanese occupation had taken on the members of the pre-war Department made reorganization a most difficult task. Thus, when the College re-opened on July 26, 1945, three English courses for 95 students were offered under the Department of Languages headed by Dean Uichanco in an acting capacity.  Miss Aurora L. Samonte of the Department of Agricultural Educational was assigned to teach English 1a and 1b; later she became the acting head of the Department and acting librarian of the College. English 1b, a completion course for those whose classes had been disrupted by the Pacific war and the battle for liberation, was handled by Mrs. Guadalupe Fores-Guazon, also of the Department of Agricultural Education. Dr. Gerardo O. Ocfemia, head of the Department of Plant Pathology, was detailed to teach English 10, a thesis-writing course for seniors. English 1 and 10 both aimed at training students in “such written and spoken discourse as will be of practical value to agriculturists in the Philippine Islands.”

 

In June, 1946, English A and B, preparatory courses divided into two-semester work for students who had had only six years of elementary schooling, were introduced. The Department also taught English 1a and 1b (English Composition), English 5 (World Literature), English 10 (Scientific Reporting), English 11 (Public Speaking), English 101 (The Short Story), German and Spanish.  Four faculty members handled these classes; of this number three were detailed from other departments, two from the Department of Agricultural Education and one from the Department of Soils.

 

There was a change of hands in the school year 1948-49. Miss Samonte, a most valuable worker, resigned.  Mrs. Marcela I. Sevilla, instructor at the UP Rural High School, was made in-charge of the Department on January 1, 1949. Professors Nicolas Galvez of Soils, Melanio Gapud of Agricultural Education, and Jose Blando of the College of Forestry were drafted to teach some courses. A couple of years later Miss Nelly Dunglao, just back from abroad, joined the Department staff.

 

In 1952 two additional instructors were appointed. In July of the same year Miss Nelly Dunglao was designated acting head, relieving Mrs. Sevilla as in charge of the Department. During this period the copy editor of the Philippine Agriculturist and the head of the Department of Soils were on detail in the Department.

 

Four instructors, two for English and two for Spanish, joined the staff in 1953. One of the Spanish instructors at once took the initiative of organizing the Circulo Hispanista, an association of the students enrolled in Spanish.

 

Five more came in 1954. When the College enrollment trebled far beyond expectations in 1955, the curriculum and the faculty likewise expanded. The Department acquired the services of nine new members. Miss Dunglao, who became head of the Department in November, 1955, resigned on July 31, 1957, leaving the Department of Languages with a teaching force of nineteen, this included the writer who was appointed head on August 1, 1957, an office clerk, and four student assistants. But even with these the Department still had to count on the services of “borrowed talents.” Dr. Galvez continued to handle the German courses which were attended mostly by graduate students. With the passage of the Magalona bill and later the Rizal law, more courses in Spanish had to be offered.

 

The Department of Languages has travelled a long way since its founding. Of its 19 staff members today, only four have no advanced credits; five have master’s degrees (four from abroad, one from the U.P.). Now housed in a building all its own, the old Agronomy, the Department is quite a contrast to the late Miss Yule’s English office at the Old College Building with its “one straight-backed chair and a deal table with a small drawer.” The interior which underwent a facelifting in the summer of 1958 was painted in varying shades of blue.

 

Before it inherited the old Agronomy building in June, 1954, the Department never stayed put in one place. After the liberation the Languages office was where a little space could be spared. Consequently, before it found its permanent home, the Department had “squatted” in the Departments of Agricultural Education, Agricultural Engineering, Entomology, and Agricultural Economics. For some time, therefore, the students were treated to the sight of Languages instructors scurrying from building to building, lugging along books, notebooks, papers, chalks, and even loose blackboards.

 

It is easy to see that the early post-liberation conditions left much to be desired. The Department especially felt keenly the lack of instructional materials. Just starting to get rehabilitated itself, the library was not much of help. The English teachers, thus handicapped, very often had only their own resources to draw from.  They made up for their youth and lack of experience with their knowledge of the subject matter, diligence, resourcefulness, interest, and personality.  In time they realized that there was no substitute for a well-trained teacher genuinely enthusiastic about his elected calling.

Snippets of UPLB History: The Humanities (Part 1)

Happy Centennial, UPLB! As a way of celebrating LB's 100th year, I wish to highlight snippets of UPLB history in this site.

Below is the first of three parts of an article published almost half a century ago in the Philippine Agriculturist (now the Philippine Agricultural Scientist, an Institute for Scientific Information (ISI) journal based in UP Los Banos). Written by UP Professor Emeritus Edelwina Cu-Legaspi, then assistant professor of the UP College of Agriculture, this piece of work gives the reader a glimpse into the early years of what is now the UPLB Department of Humanities, a degree-granting unit that offers both master’s and undergraduate programs and arguably the cradle of liberal arts in a campus largely known for its trailblazing research in the areas of agriculture, biotechnology, engineering, and the environment. The article was published along with other articles on the various units of the UP College of Agriculture in the special issue of the Philippine Agriculturist (Volume XLIII, Number 1, June 1959) in honor of the College’s golden jubilee.

 

 

DEPARTMENT OF LANGUAGES[1]

 

by Edelwina Cu-Legaspi[2]

 

The Department of Languages, which used to be known as the Department of English from its beginnings to the outbreak of the Pacific war, was never formally established. One is inclined to think that it must have earned its title of “department” in the catalogue only after the English work in and out of the classroom had made itself as an entity, not a fraction.[3]  “English Department” first appeared in the masthead of the Philippine Agriculturist in 1919 when Dr. Sam Trelease, a college plant physiologist, was editor, and Miss Yule, who was to become the first head of the Department, was assistant editor.

 

It is noteworthy, though, that despite the lack of recognition of the Department as such, English was among the subjects taught when the College first opened in June, 1909. Among other things, the pioneering students fed their imagination on Longfellow’s Evangeline and Irving’s Alhambra in the home of Mrs. Carrie Stein Ledyard, instructor in modern languages.  Mrs. Ledyard taught German and French as well. In her absence, Artemas Day, a biologist, pitched in.

 

For some time the English subjects offered were of preparatory nature, more or less identical with, if not a continuation of, those given in the public high schools.  The first course on the collegiate level was an elective, English 3, instituted under Mrs. Dorothy Rundles. To this subject, Dean Copeland consigned students he deemed defective in English.

 

In the early years of the College the English Department, aside from teaching English, edited for English, theses and other manuscripts, and copied and proofread for the Philippine Agriculturist. Although there was rarely more than one instructor at a time in those days, the Department could teach and read for English, and still serve as a first-aid station for Filipino faculty members and students not taking English courses but whose knowledge of the language could stand improvement.

 

As a result of the years of “restrained struggle” on Miss Yule’s part, English was made a required subject first in the six-year and later in the four-year curriculum. With revisions and readjustments, three consecutive courses were soon added. One of these courses aimed at giving students “a little training in the translation of science into ordinary speech.” A second dealt with principles of argument, business correspondence, and scientific reporting. A third was a survey course in world literature to help the students partake of “the precious lifeblood of the masters of the spirits.”

 

The Department did its share in enriching the cultural life of the students. Miss E. Gertrude Madison initiated the College Sing. A student pioneer who is now a retired professor of animal husbandry fondly recalls the evenings when he and his classmates, gathered around the lively Miss Madison, would sing all their cares away. These sessions brought out many a talent which came in handy during College programs. Miss Margaret Wilson popularized the Mimics, dumb simulative performances designed to give the student a taste of drama. This literary vehicle helped in spreading new agricultural ideas in rural communities and in training students to direct simple literary plays. It is only fitting to record that the proceeds of the first dramatic performance on the campus, “The Court Scene from the Merchant of Venice,” which was directed by Mrs. Gillis (first semester 1915-1916), were used to buy the first non-technical books for the library.

 

As years rushed by, a number of names, mostly American, appeared in the roster of the English Department. More courses were offered. The services offered by the Department, aside from the regular classroom teaching, were gaining recognition. The future held much promise.

 

And then came the war.

 

Of the two remaining American members of the Department, only Mrs. Harriet Richards was interned at the University of Santo Tomas concentration camp; the other one, Mrs. Ruth Mack, had gone back to the States earlier.

 

With the coming of the Japanese, the Department of English, as such, ceased to exist. The Japanese, determined to efface all vestiges of American tutelage, forbade the teaching of English.  The Department taught German and Spanish instead. Strangely enough, though, Mr. Y. Utiyama, educational adviser of the Japanese Military Administration, ordered that teaching of English, not Spanish or German, should be continued till the faculty and students would have acquired a working knowledge of Nippongo. He made it clear that only English reading was to be taught, no composition and grammar.  Before a student could graduate, he should know Nippongo. Accordingly, a Japanese instructor, Mr. H. Kongsio, was promptly sent to the campus to acquaint College constituents with the conqueror’s tongue. A Filipino national language instructor, Mrs. Josefa Diaz, was made in charge of the Department.  Apparently lying low, English was actually functioning shoulder to shoulder with the Filipino national language. As a precautionary measure, the Department of English sought refuge in the camouflaging title of Department of Languages.

---

[1] General Contribution No. 902.

[2] Assistant Professor and Head of the Department

[3] Emma S. Yule, Philippine Agriculturist, 18, 327-331 (1929)