If you haven’t read James Soriano’s article published two days ago, “Language, learning, identity, privilege,” I’m sorry to say that the online version has just been pulled by Manila Bulletin. You are in luck, however, because here’s another piece he wrote, also on his deep love for the Filipino language.
So basically, what James Soriano really wants us to know is that he’s not by any means common. He was brought up with wealth, a household full of help, and the ability to think in a foreign language.
Hear that, James? That’s a slow clap. Congratulations on having lived such a privileged existence. Congratulations, that in going out of your way to prove that you were so well-educated, you managed to highlight and underscore your very ignorance.
I am trying, but honestly I don’t understand where this “English is superior” mentality stems from. For most of his natural life, my father worked in public office, and that meant all of us had to have an equal grasp of English and Filipino. It meant utilizing any means necessary to communicate both efficiently and graciously. We speak in Filipino to each other and at home, especially when we want to express our lambing to one another.
For 14 years, I was fortunate enough to attend Poveda Learning Center (now called St. Pedro Poveda College). It is a well-respected institution with impeccable standards, where English is also the medium of instruction. It is now more than ever that I am grateful for the emphasis the school placed on learning and speaking Filipino. To mispronounce Filipino words bore as much of a stigma as it did to speak barok English, so it was here that I learned not just to speak but to think in Filipino. This I appreciate the most because I am better for it.
I say this because I think that if you do have a good grasp of Filipino, not merely a technical proficiency, but an actual grasp of it, it grounds you. There are no masks with the Filipino language, especially in its ability to capture an entire experience in a single word. It is one that reaches deep into your gut and pulls out exactly that which would be lost in translation. Its bold nature is what allows you to stand on equal footing with a fellow countryman, regardless of status or wealth, because the language exposes the vein of each emotion right from the get-go.
So before you talk to me about “the language of the learned,” read Pete Lacaba. Watch the films of Lino Brocka, Ishmael Bernal, and Laurice Guillen. Listen to APO and the Eraserheads. Watch the musical Sinta (which, while adapted from The Fantasticks, soars high above the original). There is a sophistication in our vernacular that others can only dream of, and it is first found in the words woven to inspire generations of Filipinos to come.
Yes, Filipino may be the language of fishermen and street vendors, but it is also the language of governance and art. It is the language of the most human of men, cutting through all logic, being at its core a language of the heart. It is the language of my heart, which to you might reek of “rotting beef and stinking fish,” but to me embodies gratitude, love, kindness, inspiration, and home.
So, James, a friendly word of advice? Next time you need an audience for your disturbing and offensive condescension, I encourage you to take it elsewhere (might I suggest your truckload of “connections”), before someone actually decides to cut out that privileged, elitist tongue for good.
*** Update: Screencap of Soriano’s deleted article can be viewed here.
