On those whom we consider heroes

Alternate title: My 300th Blog Entry (in this blog, at least)

It has been almost two weeks since I returned to the United States. When booking our return flights, James and I decided to leave on May 2nd, in case there were any international workers' day events we could attend on May 1st. Unfortunately, I spent all of May 1st sick at home, far away from any rallies, the emotional stress of leaving and unbearable heat wave rendering me physically ill. 

Around the world, May 1st is a public holiday. It commemorates the fight for the 8-hour workday, which was won in 1886 through an uprising in Chicago. This inspired other labor activists around the world, marking May 1st as international workers' day. Ironically but unsurprisingly, the United States stripped it of its original meaning during the Cold War and declared it "Loyalty Day" instead. (I suppose I personally can still call it a loyalty day, though mine is a loyalty to the international workers' movement.) Since it is a public holiday, workers all over the world mobilized, some facing serious repression from the state. The Philippines was no exception, where six protesters were arrested near the US embassy during a rally. A central demand of the protest was an increase in wages. 

There is no shortage of heroes in the Philippines. I have mentioned Lapu Lapu, arguably our first hero. Then there is Jose Rizal, our national hero, who advocated for Philippine independence from Spain. Lesser known heroes include the trio of martyred priests known as "GomBurZa" and Sultan Kudarat. Fathers Gomez, Burgos, and Zamora were three priests executed by Spain in 1872 for daring to believe that Filipinos could be considered equal to Spaniards. There is a Netflix movie that came out recently that dramatizes this story, and I appreciated hearing the Filipino actors speaking Spanish like they would have at the time. Meanwhile, Sultan Mohammad Dipatuan Kudarat was the sultan of Mindanao in the 1600s who fiercely defended the Muslim communities there from the Spanish invasion. There is a monument erected in his honor near our home in Makati. In the final stretch of my time in the Philippines, I was able to appreciate these lesser known heroes while out and about in Manila. 

A statue of Sultan Kudarat against one of Makati's skyscrapers

James and me at Plaza Zamora in Pandacan, one of the oldest neighborhoods in Manila

We were able to visit Pandacan with a local, Tita Gleo, who was my mom's college roommate. She shares Padre Zamora's birthday and is one of his family's descendants!

It is interesting to consider whom the state deems a "hero" and whom the state punishes for their activism. In my mind, the demands of today's protestors, whether for labor rights or for Palestinian liberation, do not differ too much from certain historic heroes' demands. The Philippine heroes I have brought up so far resisted violent subjugation by foreign occupying forces and advocated for dignified treatment of their compatriots. I am sure that like today, the movements that created these past heroes faced significant opposition. For example, slavery and racial segregation are widely regarded today as having been morally wrong. However, when they were the norm, it took everyday people disrupting the societal order for these old systems to collapse. If there is anything I have learned, it is that the forces in power truly do not concede it without oppressed people and their allies engaging in collective uprising. And currently, the state serves the interests of those who have power, which is why it persecutes activists while at the same time hailing long gone, "noncontroversial" historical figures. 

While in the Philippines, I thought a lot about my own role in the fight for a better world. My thoughts have evolved these last few years, as I learned from my travels, schooling, friends, and my own lived experiences. I could not deny how at home I felt in the country I grew up in, but I could not help but feel removed from any of the progressive movements I had been involved in in recent years. I am sure that if I had been in the Philippines longer and more deliberately sought out a community, I would have found my place. However, I recognize now that there is an immense privilege in being able to live and work in the United States, where so much occurs that impacts people far beyond its borders. Living in the heart of empire, as I like to call it, enables me to enact change from within the source of so much violence around the world. 

That being said, although I was sad to leave the Philippines, I am glad to have returned to America and am content to be here a while. On the way back, we had a twelve-hour layover in Seoul. Since James and I missed our chance at the free group tour, we took the train into into the city. We only spent an hour or so walking around the local market and admiring the elevated pedestrian infrastructure, but we also caught railway workers in the middle of a demonstration in the train station. 

As you can imagine, it made me happy to see. 

After spending a few rainy days in Oregon, we traveled to Boston with my parents for my law school graduation. All over the United States, students have been showing solidarity with Palestine and demanding their schools divest from entities involved in the genocide, and my law school was no exception. It felt wrong not to acknowledge the horrific, depraved violence in Gaza, violence completely sanctioned by the same government that denies us student loan forgiveness and by the same schools that claim to uphold principles of social justice. I felt so proud seeing my friends and even people I had never met before wearing keffiyehs, waving Palestine flags, donning stoles that said "FREE PALESTINE," and revealing shirts that said "DIVEST FROM GENOCIDE" as we proceeded out of the arena. A few of my friends also cleverly hid red makeup paint in their sleeves, rubbing it on to give the impression of bloody hands.  

All that aside, I adored seeing my friends again after not having seen them in months. It was also so cool to hear about all their plans now that law school is over. Here are some photo highlights from the day.

Picture taken in the Seaport District of Boston before we left for the ceremony.

My parents and me.

Some of my closest friends from law school whose presence often graced the home I shared with my amazing roommates, who are also shown here.

James, our friend Zilpa who was in our study abroad cohort in Rwanda, me, and my friend Nai-Lah, whom I met while she was an intern at the migrant rights nonprofit where I used to work.

This picture is based on a piece of fan art I did of my lovely friends Tiffany and Michelle with me, below.

"Start Asian Love" is a phrase one of Tiffany's friends came up with based on "Stop Asian Hate," because they were trying to be funny (to me, they succeeded).

The cake that Cara and Riley surprised me with because they couldn't be at my graduation dinner in person 🥲

Not to make this a sponsored post but we did my graduation dinner at Double Chin and they did not disappoint with this adorable setup!!

The evening after the ceremony, I celebrated with my parents, James, and my friends Zilpa, Katu, and Nai-Lah. At one point we asked Nai-Lah about the tattoos she had, and one of them was a rose with the quote, "I could not blossom if I didn't have good roots." She came up with the quote herself, and my mom was an immediate fan. Thinking about it, it ties in nicely with the theme of this entry and the end of my law school chapter. For when I think of my roots, I think not only of my family and my immediate ancestors; I think also of the heroes of the past who fought for liberation and justice, whose struggles made my achievements of today possible. Without people like Sultan Kudarat, the priests Gomez, Burgos, and Zamora, and countless others whose names I will never know, I would not be able to enjoy the quality of life I have now. I am certain that thanks to the work of today's heroes–many of whom I am honored to have graduated alongside–we will eventually create a world where all people can truly flourish. But for now, we must continue the fight.