Wednesday, 6 May 2009

Date with Christian Lacroix and Other Pretensions




On Wednesday afternoon, Lui and I thought of watching a movie at Cineleisure after our lunch date at Lucky Plaza (along the famed Orchard Road). We didn't like any of movies being shown so we ended up posing beside the hot poster of the upcoming film "Dive" featuring the "hottest boys" of Japan. Later, we decided to visit the Singapore National Museum to check out the exhibit of the one and only Christian Lacroix, costumier.

These are not great photos, but they're photos nonetheless.:)

Saturday, 25 April 2009

Boyhood and memories of circumcision

On Friday night, I chanced upon this video clip titled Circumcision at the GMA 7 news website and it made me recall the same operation I had to go through almost twenty years ago.  

My circumcision came after my grade school graduation. It was summer of 1990. I was twelve going on thirteen. For years before my operation, I had been made to think that going through circumcision was the necessary thing for boys to do. My father, uncles, and male cousins would tell me that little boys have to be circumcised in order to become “real men.” I was warned that uncircumcised boys grow up to be dirty and that flies would chase after them all the time. (The male foreskin which is cut during the surgery is believed to accumulate a lot of dirt since unwanted fluids pass through it.) Uncircumcised boys are also usually taunted in school and in the playground by those who have “successfully” endured the operation.  

To my young mind, circumcision was a horrible thing inflicted on young boys like me but was something I just had to bear. On the one hand, I thought it would save me from taunts and teasing in high school. Besides, the operation would probably resolve the "identity crisis" I had been going through since I was in kindergarten. It would transform me into “a real man.” On the other hand, the very thought of being operated on – that is, being wounded, being lacerated deliberately – scared me so much that I vowed that if something bad happened to me during the operation, I would be the last boy on earth to have gone through circumcision. I imagined myself as the sacrificial lamb that would liberate the boys of this earth from the horrible, horrible surgery.

I was reluctant to go through the procedure but given the circumstances, I had no choice.  

In the summer of 1990, the date was set. I was to be operated at the Santa Teresita Hospital in Legazpi. My doctor was no less than the owner of the hospital. He would later be elected as a city councilor of Legazpi.  

Just before the operation, I requested my father to stay by my side and asked for a face towel to cover my eyes while the doctor inflicted pain on my hapless body. I held my father's hand while I lay in the surgical bed. (Had I known about the life story of St. Therese – the hospital’s patron saint – before the surgery, I would have imagined a shower of rose petals falling on the surgical bed as I offered myself for the liberation of boys in this world!) When my short pants were removed (I didn’t know if it was the doctor or one of his two assistants), I began to feel and act tense. My muscles got tight and stiff so the doctor said, “Relax.” I remember saying softly the lines “Oh Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who are recourse to thee,” a prayer that my mother advised me to recite when I’m faced with trouble. I would repeat the lines throughout the operation. The most painful part of the entire experience happened when I felt the needle pierce my helpless birdie. I was given a shot of anesthesia so I would not feel the excruciating pain of an induced laceration.  

The anesthetic shot partly numbed my sense of touch down there. When the doctor was doing the stitches, I could feel the pricks and punctures that made me shed a tear. Soon it was over. And the doctor said, “OK na. Tapos na (It’s OK. It’s over).” When I got up to see what had just happened to me, I saw my wounded self but was immediately drawn into the blood stains on the immaculate bed sheet (“So this is how women who experience menstruation feel like when they see blood stains on their bed sheets” was the thought that, quite ironically, first came to mind!). I survived the operation. I was not meant to be a sacrificial lamb, after all. And because of that, the ritual of circumcision would live on.  

It took weeks for me to fully recover from the operation. I had to stay home several weeks, clean the wound with Agua Oxinada after my daily bath, and apply an ointment that was expected to hasten my healing process.  

While I lay in bed to heal and rest, I tried to practice my vocal cords (vocal folds) by singing songs that would make me "belt out." One Moment in Time popularized by Whitney Houston was my favorite. You see, I had this preposterous notion that I would lose what I perceived then as a pitch perfect singing voice (I was classified as Soprano One in our grade school choir) because of the operation. Truth be told, I adored my grade school voice.  Losing it because of circumcision was one of the reasons why I dreaded the surgery.  

It took, however, two years for my larynx to fully develop and for me to bid my Soprano One classification goodbye. In high school, my experience in the summer of 1990 was eclipsed by more interesting encounters – juvenile ones. 

At this point, I can only recall it with fondness and a little embarrassment. How strange of the thoughts that swirled through my 12-year old mind!

Saturday, 18 April 2009

With Honors

On April 25, the University of the Philippines at Los Banos honors the AB Communication Arts program’s first summa cum laude since its founding in 1974.

 

Aidel Paul Belamide, one of UP’s top honor graduates in 2009, was my student in SPCM 1 (Speech Communication) in 2004. I remember foisting on their class the same question that I had been foisting on my COMM III/SPCM 1 classes at the start of every semester: “Who would like to graduate with honors?” No, I usually start with, “Those who would like to graduate summa cum laude please raise your right hands.” Nobody usually raises his or her right hand. Freshmen, who comprised the majority of students in my basic speech communication classes, would usually shy away from proclaiming that they actually had such ambition. “How about magna cum laude?” I would make a follow up. Still nobody raises his or her hand. “Cum laude?” Then I would glean sparkles from the eyes of some eager beavers especially those still basking in their secondary school glory, but false modesty would rule so nobody would end up raising a hand. Then I would cap my series of questions with, “So the highest possible grade for this class would be 2.25 or if you’re really good, 2.0. Both are respectable grades. Qualitatively, they are described as ‘good’ in the UP grading system.” Suddenly, I would hear a drone of peevish whining. And a brave soul would ask, “Sir, what if a student deserves better than 2.0?” I would then ask, “So let me repeat, who among you would like to graduate with honors?” A considerable number – sometimes more than half of the class – would raise their hands.

 

That was not the case in Aidel Paul’s class. The moment I foisted the question “Who wants to graduate summa cum laude?” I got an unexpected reply. Aidel, a small, lanky freshman whose eyes communicated so much involvement in the classroom dynamics, raised his rather frail hand. “Oh, so you want to be summa cum laude. And you happen to be a ComArts major,” I had to verify. “Yes, Sir,” he replied. “Not only do you want to be summa cum laude,” I retorted. “You also want to be ComArts’s first summa cum laude.” The sparkle in his eyes shone even brighter.

 

Later I would learn that he was also an active board member of Silang, Cavite’s municipal government, having been elected President of the Sangguniang Kabataan (SK) in the entire municipality, and that he had ambitions of becoming a local government executive.

 

From what I know of him, Aidel was no ordinary student. While he was active in his extracurricular activities in Cavite, he made sure he had an “expanded value” added to his assignments and presentations. I mean he took studying – doing assignments, writing papers, and taking examinations – very seriously, as in very seriously. That was the first and the last time he became my student in the formal classroom. He earned 1.25 in SPCM 1 – the highest grade top performing students earned in the UP classes I handled. When he got his grade, Aidel showered me with his characteristic display of effusive gratefulness but I could sense that he was a tad disappointed. He went on to be an extremely hardworking and persevering college student. The rest is history.

 

So what does it take to be an honor student? There is actually no formula. From experience, I say it takes more than brilliance to earn more than good grades. Hard work coupled with a capacity to adjust competently in shifting environments (contrasting teaching and learning styles, changing living conditions, varying personalities in and out of the classrooms, pressures from institutional constraints, etc.) contribute to success in studentship. “Natural intelligence” (which in my book pertains to mental/intellectual preparedness – or the capacity to do formal thinking) is certainly important to be able to succeed in college, although that is usually taken for granted in UP where the majority of the students are high school academic achievers or are presumably college/university-ready after surviving the formidable UP College Admission Test.

 

As implied earlier, I also graduated with honors. With honors (cum laude) lang. Not with greatest (summa) or with greater (magna) honors (laude) although I really didn’t mind graduating with those heavy weight titles. Like Aidel, I saw graduating with honors as a goal (and I am not going to display false modesty by saying I did not dream of aiming for the higher titles!). But my reasons were rather pragmatic.

 

Considering that I came from a family of modest means, I thought graduating with honors would at least land me a respectable job with a respectable salary (I did land a respectable job but that I earned a respectable salary from such a respectable job remains contentious to this day.).

 

During my first semester, while taking the required Reserve Officer Training Corps (ROTC), I had set my mind into becoming a college or university scholar (or being in the Dean’s or Chancellor’s List) because such would mean being exempted from the exhausting drills under the sweltering heat of the tropical sun. At that time, college and university scholars were asked to join the ROTC Pool of Instructors. During the 5-hour Saturday morning training, cadet instructors were tasked to read notes in the barracks or in shaded areas in preparation for lectures before throngs of cadets. The lectures – I even remember mouthing the concept of military reconnaissance! – were easy to handle.  We were allowed to read from the notes and with a little drama, I thought I actually made some cadets swoon! Well, I did that during my second, third and fourth semesters and that was how I survived ROTC. The first semester was “a debacle in the field” (I would see shades of aquamarine, tangerine, yellow, and other rainbow colors whenever I would faint!); the succeeding ones were a relative bliss.

 

Another reason for aiming for academic distinction had to do with my gender. Since I grew up being the “overt” kind – effeminate, campy, and perhaps, wimp-looking – I had to balance such physical conspicuousness with a perceived mental rigor or strength (with emphasis on the word “perceived”). Graduating with honors would at least give my prospective employer/s and future colleagues the impression that my wimp-like physicality can be counterbalanced by my intellectual gifts (or so I thought). Moreover, the academic distinction is always attached to the degree (which, for some time, gave me the delusion that I was actually brighter than ordinary minds.)

 

So how powerful is an academic distinction or graduating with honors? Does it really spell magic when one joins the labor force? It does spell magic but only for a brief period of time.

 

For somebody lacking experience and higher degrees, it was my passport for getting a teaching position in UPLB. My friend and colleague once told me that academic distinction is only good for two years. She was wrong. After less than a year, I already felt its magic wane. There were new graduates with the same or even higher academic distinctions joining the faculty. I wasn’t special anymore. Or I wasn’t special at all. I had to do more than bask in the glory of my academic distinction for my bachelor’s degree. In graduate school, I realized it is no big deal. Almost everybody graduated with honors so the distinction is taken for granted. What people are interested in in the postgraduate level is what kind of scholarship or research one is going to churn out – whether that is going to change the complexion of an academic field, make a significant impact in society or just end up as one of the many samples of thesis writing in the library shelves.

 

These days, it seems that academic distinction remains as the regular passport of the swarm of fresh graduates who join the university teaching force year in, year out.  It is, however, a sad commentary of our times when certain units in the UP are still forced to hire fresh bachelor’s degree graduates as members of the regular faculty when they should be attracting those with higher degrees and with immediate potential contributions to research and development. This is not to say that fresh graduates are incapable of teaching (I had been one of the many beneficiaries of that policy when I joined the teaching force as a fresh graduate in 1998 and I had been witness to peers who can really hold their own in the classroom. In hindsight though, I realize that, given my very limited background in research and scholarship, I was inadequate as a teacher. I was at the very least merely rehashing textbooks and mouthing authors I had read ahead of my students.), but just when you thought the UP has transformed itself to meet the challenges of the evolving knowledge economy and to be on par with its counterparts in the region and the world, it still appears to be stuck with recruiting babies to teach fellow babies.

 

That the UPLB ComArts program has produced its first summa cum laude in 35 years is a cause for celebration.  It may mean that despite having attracted very talented students through the years, the program through its faculty has really set exacting academic standards making it especially difficult for students to graduate with the greatest honors within the last three and a half decades. In fact, it took 25 years for the program to produce its first magna cum laude. That was in 1999. There were years before that when the program didn’t produce any honor graduates at all. It is, however, interesting to note that lately there has been an inflation of honor graduates in the program. This seems to be the trend as well in the System. While it may initially leave the impression that UP has been producing more and more intellectually competent students, it may be good to examine if that is really the case. Could this trend have been the consequence of recruiting fresh graduates who despite their academic distinctions aren’t really prepared to teach, evaluate, and provide students the level of difficulty they need to better develop intellectually? Could it be due to the fact that most teachers compensate their lack of intellectual preparedness by being generous in giving (very) high grades to their students? Could it be due to the fact that in making up for their inadequacy, some teachers would rather compromise quality for quantity (that is, giving high grades so they won’t feel so much indebted to their students)?


I wonder.

 

Monday, 13 April 2009

Globalization and the Femina: Making Sense of 'Making India Miss World'

http://missosology.info/forum/viewtopic.php?f=1&t=5298
When academic constipation strikes, I take the beauty pageant pill! I am under the impression that writing about what interests me would push me to write about what I should be writing (with emphasis on the final clause).

Thanks to Susan Dewey's 'Making India Miss World' (New York: Syracuse University Press, 2008) - a marvelous acquisition of the NUS library, my little neurons have just had their much needed exercise and hopefully, have been activated to do what they're supposed to be doing!

Tuesday, 24 March 2009

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.

 

 

Sunday, 8 February 2009

"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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

  1. 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

 

 

Saturday, 31 January 2009

“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.