It was a lot of sitting down, actually. And hanging around friends and my family. I was barely fourteen. The political landscape was clear in my home -changes in government had to happen and finally we were all literally out saying it. What used to be just ranting over dinner, snide remarks in between homilies, and whispers in university fora became one big swell of something. The same thing at the same time.
Revolutions are that: many people on the same thing at the same time.
Because I was young then, I remembered other things. A boy, my rotation of yellow shirts, the pick up truck that took us from our village to EDSA everyday. Riding on the back of the truck, the wind. I remember it was cold. And I remember the thrill of being ‘actually’ ON EDSA. And because I was young then, I only remembered the waves of feeling. Of big words strewn around me, freedom, justice, fighting, democracy, good governance – and my whole psyche nodding along with it, saying, ‘Tama!” Now that I’m older, I can see how little I understood of EDSA. How I thought it was about the euphoria, the high charge that came with the one-ness with so many others.
What I didn’t know was it was really about the work, over ten years prior — and the coming tasks for the next 25 years – that was what it’ll take to make those four days real.
I get a sinking feeling sometimes that EDSA was like a great wedding party to usher in a now-problematic marriage with our government. I know now that it’s really about work. The efficient, consistent kind. Otherwise – then no revolution happened at all.
photo credit: pls tell me if you own this photo, I found it saved in one of my folders from way back. Apologies in advance – but that’s our group on the lower left of the photo.