“In the long run civilized man finds he can keep the peace only by subduing his barbarian neighbors; for the barbarians will yield only to force.” –Theodore Roosevelt
Block.
Strike.
Strike.
The 12 basic strikes of Arnis, the Filipino martial arts, begins with a block, followed by two strikes on the opponent’s shoulder and knee. The 21 basic strikes follow a similar formula: block, then strike, half strike, and another strike.
As a mere student of the art, I followed the system without question, emulating only what the Guro demonstrated. The sound of our synchronized strikes against the humid air was crisp and empowering. Each movement required dynamism in order to deliver the desired result in actual combat—to incapacitate the opponent. Everyday our training brought us one step closer to mastering the movements. By the end of our training, we were confident in our abilities to perform all of what we were taught from our 6-hour, first day of drilling.
Expectedly, the day of our competition against Taguig City University arrived. All that we were taught for three days must now be brought to the mat, and left there. We entered the gymnasium as underdogs, purely expecting to learn from our opponent while they smash our flesh to the color purple. But by no means did that entail our retraction from wildly cheering on for our classmates.
Matching up for competition
The men’s division preceded.
All but one lost.
Next, the women’s division.
All but 3 won.
University of Washington Winners, girls division.
The second time around, more and more of us won our matches. The sound of “Washington” echoing within the walls of TCU filled me with indescribable pride, an almost patriotic feeling for my own school. This time around, we were expecting to win, and so we did.
After the competition, our rivals in the sport came to us with unexpected kindness, even asking to be Facebook friends. Apparently, they were surprised that our performance was only an accumulation of three days of training. With that, we gained respect and maybe even friendships.
Taguig City University students
It’s been three days since the competition. The bruises on my thighs and arms are more purple than the day before. Despite the bruises and the soreness, I miss the sport. I miss everything that it taught me and the feelings that it formed inside of me. But now that I have officially ceased being a student of the art, I will discuss the parallels I observed between this sport in relation to the Americanization of the Philippines dominating at present.
Compare: Defense.
In Arnis, blocking is the principal movement. That’s no surprise. The Philippine history is filled with events after the other where Filipinos constantly found themselves having to protect their homeland—from the 300-year Spanish colonialism, to the still-present American imperialism and finally, against the Japanese terrorism. The false perception of Philippines as the runt in the world, easy to bully and manipulate, has infiltrated in the minds of most Filipinos. That is the reason why blocking is the first move in Arnis. We block because we are always first being attacked.
Anne Paulet’s article, “To Change the World: The Use of American Indian Education in the Philippines,” discusses the blueprints America had in mind for the Philippines—to “kill the Indian in him and save the man.” This particular quote is directed towards the Native Americans by Richard Pratt but upon further application, shortly became the motto in pacifying the “savage” and “barbaric” people of the Philippine islands. Lucky for the Igorrotes (native Filipinos), however, the Americans saw “no possibilities beyond,” and so they were left untouched.
The weapon of choice: Education. Renato Constantino, in his “Miseducation of the Filipinos” article, distinguished this when he stated: Education is the best weapon for colonial conquest. The Americans recognized this concept early on and utilized it in its full capacity. Therefore, the process of educating the young minds of the Filipinos was promptly implemented in the archipelago in 1901. But the Filipinos could not be “entrusted” with their own country’s educational system because of their “uncivilized” minds. This resulted with the Americans taking sole and ultimate control of the department of education under Article 23 of the Jones Act (Constantino).
Artillery: American teachers and textbooks. From 1901 to 1935, the head of the education department was an American (Constantino). By the time a Filipino was put in charge, a “captive generation” had been born. The educators were sent in “battalions” as “surely the most remarkable cargo ever carried to the Oriental colony,” (Constantino). That’s impressive considering the geographical location and size of the Philippines. Consequently the native language was subject to extermination as English became the required medium for teaching. Constantino articulates the consequences of native language impediment: inability to express innermost thoughts and cultural stagnation. One must not underestimate these consequences for it is the gateway to terminate a culture.
With this entire struggle to educate the Philippines, I wonder what direct gains America could possibly have from this little country composed of 7,107 islands. Aside from being the stepping stone to China and providing a naval base for the U.S., the effort in transforming the Philippines into a mini-America really is quite remarkable. Unless America has further ulterior motives, the cost outweighs the gain. We know that American gain continues to this day—economically, politically and socially. Unfortunately, the cost is a holistic oblivion to evaporating nationalism and cultural identification in our own country. It is apparent in the media, our government, and our spoken language; in our educational system even our dreams. Filipinos are consumed by America and live for America. This is the result of our weak defense against our oppressors. This is why we constantly find ourselves having to block first.
Contrast: Offense.
In Arnis, blocking may be the principal movement but the eleven strikes come immediately after. As a country, we have attempted to block every strike from the super powers only to be beaten down to the ground. But when have we ever initiated a strike against our opponents?
Behind my red suit, representing the University of Washington, I stepped on to the mat knowing full well that my expertise on the sport does not compare to my opponent. She practices everyday for five hours while I practiced for 3 days. On the mat, her movements were intimidating. I was intimidated. That didn’t stop me from giving it my best. Instead of following the 12 basic strikes, I found myself initiating the attacks and carefully dodging hers. I thought to myself, “If you’re going down, you better look like you did something.”
That’s when I won.
With Master Rey in my Arnis sparring gear
The lesson to be learned is that experience and power does not dictate the outcome of the game. Philippines may not have both but if it has the heart and mind, it can do wondrous things—become David against Golliath. The secret though is first to do something.
Preparing for battle against TCU
I should have lost; but I was representing the UW. The Filipinos need the same pride and love for their own country.
Retaliate.
The weapon of choice: Education. In the Arnis competition, my opponent and I had the same weapon, a baston. No one had an advantage or a disadvantage because we were using the same defensive/offensive tool. It’s not too late. If the Americans used education to subjugate our people, we, in turn, must use education to restore our nation, our culture, our identity. Retaliation doesn’t always mean violence, sometimes, retaliation is simply in the form of silence. We are done with being silent. We must voice out, in our own native dialects, our desire for freedom; to be our independent nation and free of American control.
Artillery: Filipino teachers and textbooks. Our teachers today are victims of Americanization so how can we ever fully achieve Filipino education? It’s never too late to learn. Our country must implement a law requiring at least all history teachers to re-learn what they have been taught. Textbooks must be replaced, re-written from our own perspectives with our own language. It is only after these changes are made that the children are able to start with a clean slate—discover their history with pride. It is not to say that English should be completely exiled from our education system. Rather, it should be an option instead of a requirement, second and not the first.
Today I toured another Ivy League school, Ateneo de Manila. I have to admit, I was not all that impressed. You may think that some of the things I’m saying on this blog are exaggerations but no. Most of our tour guides were “pures” (non-mixed Filipinos) but they literally could not speak any Philippine dialect. All they could speak was English. Granted it made it easier to talk to them but the Philippine experience was robbed from me. I felt like I was back in University of Washington, hanging out with my friends. This is exactly what I’m speaking against: Filipinos who have no excuse not to know their native language. It’s appalling. When I spoke to the freshmen during lunch, they informed me that many of their friends in high school would only speak English because speaking the Philippine dialect was considered low-class. Where did these beliefs come from? And why is no one stopping it?
Ateneo de Manila and our tour guides
The freshman girls I spoke to during lunch
In any martial arts, we are taught to respect our opponent but above all we are trained to win. In combat, winning means you spared your life, preserved your existence. It is time to preserve our nationality by striking first and win the battle.
During our pre-departure orientation, one of our leaders specifically went out of their way to thank those who were non-Filipinos for going on this study abroad program. The teachers are appreciative of them learning the history of the Filipinos in the Philippines. But when I think about my eight years of education in America, not one teacher has ever expressed to me their appreciation of me going all the way to America and learning their history. That, I believe, is an illustration of how we, Filipinos, feel inferior to the white-Americans or how the white-Americans feel superior to everyone else. It is 2011, as our American president would say, “We need change.”
With all these Americanization and Arnis training, I ask where I find myself in the middle of all this.
Back in Seattle I informed my friend that this summer I would go to the Philippines to study. He asked why with a disgusted look on his face. He reminded me that I lived there for eleven years and that there is no point in going. “Why not explore Europe and its amazing sites; why not Africa?” I didn’t have an answer at the moment but now it is all clear to me. Today I would simply tell him this: Because I’m proud of the Philippines.
I don’t ever want to be disconnected or become a foreigner in my own home. But one day, I will marry and we will eventually produce half Filipino, half Chamorro children. The only thing I can hope for is for them to find their way back to their home countries, embrace their culture and have pride in who they are. But there can be no pride found in their country if the Philippines is no more. The existence of our people rests upon the children. Our job, then, is to be their guide. Let’s strike first, stop the blocking mentality. Educate the children, the Filipino way.
Ready to Retaliate
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