We Wear PINK on June 30, 2022

This announcement must have passed my socmed wall a hundred times from different kakampinks since mid-June. What's so important about today? It is the swearing in of our voting-machine-anointed president. 

And so I wear PINK. 

Rather, my blog site, which reflects my swirling thoughts (I write PINK blogs to talk to myself; it's my self-prescribed therapy for post-election syndrome) wears PINK. 

Today, too, VP Leni steps down to begin Angat Buhay NGO tomorrow as citizen Leni. Words are unnecessary, except for a most heartfelt thanksgiving to the One whose grace enables us to keep working—and safeguarding our hope—for a rosy/healthy Philippines.

"I will praise God’s name in song and glorify him with thanksgiving." (Psalm 69:30) 

PINK Flowers for Gene

Just before the presidential election, Gene sent me a photo of a lovely pink flower via Messenger with this note: “My first-ever collection of multi-petals adenium . . . for VP Leni for President!” 

“Oh, wow!” I gushed, “I wish I had a green thumb, too!” 

He replied, “If there were a garden in Heaven for flowering plants, I'd like to be one of the gardeners.” 

Perhaps he got his wish. The Lord welcomed Gene to His heavenly garden last week. He was 71. 

Gene was a dear friend and a colleague. A respected professor, he was my chat-mate in the faculty room about grace, our common faith, and ministries.  We lost touch for sometime, with the pandemic and all, but somehow, during the presidential campaign, we met again—online. He got in touch with me after reading my posts and told me he was a kakampink. 

Cyberspace enables friends to say “hello” again, and alas, “goodbye” again.

He did not reply to my last message so I wondered how he was doing. Upon visiting his socmed page, I was shocked to read about what happened. A neighbor narrated that Gene was found unconscious in his garden and was rushed to the hospital. A few days later, he was gone. 

I last saw Gene years ago, but our recent exchange of messages about our shared vision for our country made me feel like we were still in the faculty room, this time around, talking about politics and flowers. 

In memory of Gene, I made a collage of unusual PINK flowers, which I am sure he would have loved to plant in his garden. I am uploading it today, PINK Wednesday, because we, along with other kakampinks, always greeted each other on a day such as this.  

So long, Gene. Till we meet again—at the Lord’s home with its lovely garden! 

“Our days on earth are like grass; like wildflowers, we bloom and die.  The wind blows, and we are gone—as though we had never been here.” (Psalm 103:15-16 NLT) 

PINK NGO: Politicians vs. Statesmen

James Freeman Clarke, an American theologian and author, wrote in the 1800s, “A politician thinks of the next election; a statesman, of the next generation.” 

Two years before the election, most politicians start laying the groundwork for their campaign. They expose themselves to media and public gatherings. When election comes, their names have top-of-mind recall. The list of elected senators shows well-known names. 

Now, how about politicians salivating for the presidency? How long is prep time for a sure win? From news reports and commentaries, our country’s winner hired the services of a well-known British consulting firm to plot out a campaign that would deodorize, revise, and re-brand his and his family’s 36-year reputation.  

Compare this with VP Leni’s and the PINK campaign birthed by people who believe in her advocacies and integrity. She declared her candidacy only in October, with no previous strategies and implementation plans. Everything was organic, funded by grace, and supported by volunteers for a total of only 6 months.  

How does that compute?  

Well, politics is short ranged. It begins and ends with the politicians’ term of office. So where can we find statesmen—those who think long term and are concerned about the future?  

We find them in NGOs (Non-Government Organizations), community-based or grassroots groups that help improve people’s lives with concrete programs, instead of dole outs. They help victims of society’s ills such as sexual abuse, child labor, human rights violations, etc.

    

This was what VP Leni announced at her thanksgiving rally, attended by thousands of grieving kakampinks, as the election numbers took shape, “We will launch an Angat Buhay NGO and it would the widest volunteer network in the country's history.”

Angat Buhay is the flagship anti-poverty program of the Office of the Vice President, which is also the slogan of her campaign: “Gobyernong Tapat, Angat Buhay lahat.”  

There are about 60,000 registered NGOs in the Philippines. Therefore, there are thousands of statesmen whose names are unknown. Many NGO members are retired politicians who saw up close their constituents’ needs and now, outside of government, are able to help them more. 

These statesmen will be joined by soon-to-be-ex-VP Leni, on the first day she becomes citizen Leni, July 1, five days from now.    

Some people argue that perhaps she was not born to be a politician but a statesman. 

Whatever. This much I know—the over 15 million votes (the number assigned by Comelec) who believe in the concept of PINK, not as a color but as a mindset, will again volunteer to give their best to the Angat Buhay NGO as they did to the campaign.

Many verses in the Bible (NLT) remind us to be statesmen: 

“Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ.” (Galatians 6:2) 

“And don’t forget to do good and to share with those in need. These are the sacrifices that please God.” ( Hebrews 13:16) 

PINK Team Redefined

“Needed ASAP! An off-the-wall advertising idea for my beleaguered brand,” the client directed the ad agency creative director (CD).  

The CD rushed back to his office and organized two teams (five members each). He explained to them what was needed. “You have four hours.” 

Team A decided that everyone must speak his mind—no holds barred; no judgments. While listing down their ideas (some corny, some hackneyed, some gross), they laughed and bantered. Then someone said, “Hey there’s something there! What if . . ."   

". . . let’s twist it a little so . . .” added another. 

After four hours, they had three brilliant and viable concepts which everyone helped to develop. Nobody took the credit; everyone owned all three.

Team B, in contrast, emphasized unity. They had to be unified to beat Team A. Afraid that his/her idea might not be good enough, nobody—except the most vocal one—put anything on the table. After four hours, they presented the only one idea credited to the one who suggested it. 

This memory of long ago came back to me during the presidential campaign. 

Team A exemplified the PINK way, where everyone’s idea and thought bubble was respected. In fact, VP Leni was criticized for doing an ad (Hadouken ) that made her look “ridiculous” according to some quarters. 

Her explanation, “It was the least I could do for those who gave their all to the concept.”  

Hers was an act of gratitude, of teaming up, which took priority over what critics might say. As a result, hundreds of jingles, poems, songs, dances, blogs, paintings, drawings, sculptures, and presentations were produced by volunteers from and for all demographics. 

As a former ad gal, I was not used to this kind of attitude and communication process. We either followed one united voice for a brand, or bust. 

Yet, this was what charmed me most about the PINK team. It redefined teamwork in politics. Although this style (or non-style) was harshly lambasted by communication veterans of old—pointed to this “crazy mix-up” as the cause of the PINK loss—I learned another important lesson in grace, which in fact is the essence of my faith:    

In numbers (as fed to us by Comelec), this is the PINK team. 

This number may have lost, but it is still formidable. If those who are a part of it will do exactly as they  did during the campaign, we could change our country for the better. 

Our goal, as represented by our logos, is to listen to all voices expressing the same goal in various ways, so that we can lift each other up for a rosy future. 

Naivete? Martyrdom? Idealism? Romance? 

I think not. It is an idea ahead of its time in Philippine politics. 

This redefinition of a political team was exactly what the PINK movement promised: “Sa Gobyernong Tapat, Angat Buhay Lahat.” (Under an honest and efficient government, everyone will have a better life.) 

"For the body is not one member, but many." (1 Corinthians 12:14 NLT)

PFF: PINK Friends Forever

People have defined friend in countless ways. 

“A true friend never gets in your way unless you happen to be going down.” Arnold H. Glasow

“Friendship . . . is born at the moment when one man says to another 'What! You too? I thought that no one but myself . . .'” C.S. Lewis

“A true friend encourages us, comforts us, supports us like a big easy chair, offering us a safe refuge from the world.” H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

Likewise, countless songs have been written about friends—all of them enabling. James Taylor’s You’ve Got a Friend is one of my favorites: 

"When you're down and troubled

And you need a helping hand . . .

You’ve got a friend." 

This I sang after an online meet-up with kakampinks in one of my many Group Chats on FB. All eight of us, old friends who have been separated by time and space for years, got together again virtually during the presidential campaign, which resulted in a fiasco.  So we needed to de-stress, and one hour later, we were each other’s helping hand. 

PFF. It's being on the same wavelength and having shared values, shared vision, and shared commitment for a better country (our term: rosy). 

And like receiving a bunch of over 600 PINK roses, I have been blessed with additional virtual kindred souls. These new friendships blossomed when a powerful question was silently asked, What? You too?

I will probably never meet them in person, but we are PINK Forever Friends as we continue to communicate about our dreams for the Philippines, encourage, help, pray for one another; exchange inspiring thoughts; and to never give up on what we have begun. 

(In contrast, I have blocked thrice that number of FB netizens for cursing, lying, insulting, belittling, and sowing hatred. Like noxious and repulsive weeds, they keep sprouting—so I keep blocking.)

Having PFF is indeed like being nestled in a big easy chair (Brown Jr.'s metaphor), a safe place from a cruel, stressful world of paid trolls rooting for what should never be. 

Heartwarming anecdotes, woven in grace, experienced during the rallies and other events—and even simply meeting someone in PINK anywhere—bred (and continue to breed) instant camaraderie and connections. In my case, as I hardly go out, in cyberspace.  

“So encourage each other and build each other up, just as you are already doing.” (1 Thessalonians 5:11 NLT)

Rhodophobia: Fear of PINK

Funny? It should be. In the context of the PINK campaign, this should be hilarious. 

This is not meant to trivialize phobias, because they exist and cause great mental anguish. A phobia is a serious matter as it can happen along with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). If someone is traumatized by an event associated with anything, it results in an intense fear of it. 

But fear of the color PINK?! 

Trolls are paid an enormous amount of money to demonize VP Leni, who personified this color during the presidential campaign, on all media 24/7. Fake news, spliced videos, manufactured sex scenes and numbers, photoshopped images, malevolent caricatures, and all kinds of vitriol—name it, they had everything, including the kitchen sink, thrown at her and anyone PINK. To my deep anguish, I was not spared from curses and unspeakable language because of my favorable comments about VP Leni’s advocacies and platforms.  

These unprecedented and orchestrated maneuvers of a most evil kind could only be caused by fear of the PINK wave.

But why? All cards are stacked in their favor.   

Power: Political bigwigs, then and now, have banded together for them.  

Numbers:  Their votes, as released by Comelec, are more than twice those of the lady's. 

Money:  According to trolls, they have tons of gold. The lady had only PINK volunteers who offered their services free and spent for materials and logistics.  

Unity: That was their singular promise to voters during the campaign. The implementation should now be in place. 

This intense fear, although disguised as extreme hatred, comes from somewhere. They know what it is, and it's eating them up.  

VP Leni has been serving the marginalized, and always quick to come to the recue of disaster victims, for so many years. Instead of gratitude, the scared cabal gave the lady nicknames like “fake VP” “lutang” “madumb” “bobo” “tanga” “mistress” and many more unprintable barbs.  

So, okay, the election is over. The trolls’ candidate for president has been acknowledged as winner by  the voting machines. It should be the end of the story, right? 

Wrong. This fear has worsened. More than ever, the massive trolling has intensified—all of the lady's activites and messages are twisted to make her look brainless and useless. The PINK wave must be really terrifying; they're shaking in their boots. 

It’d be so easy for us to say “Woe unto those who suffer from rhodophobia!” 

But VP Leni begs us not to do what they do. She wants us to push back and straighten out  misinformation—in ways that enlighten, inspire, educate, and heal. Tough order. 

If you are a kakampink, you and I know that the easiest way to push back is to give the haters a dose of their own medicine (please pardon the cliché). But then, again, we live by grace and help promote good values. We are PINK. 

We are not the same.

“Don’t do as the wicked do, and don’t follow the path of evildoers. Don’t even think about it; don’t go that way. Turn away and keep moving.” (Proverbs 4:14-15 NLT)

photo credit: https://www.pinterest.ph/pin/1900024812985288/ 

PINK On and Fly Free

“Move on!” The red camp taunts us, as if it were a heinous crime to speak about the presidential election. It’s a phrase meant to muzzle those who want to ferret out the truth.  

I say, “Pink on!” 

Pinking on is moving forward with a tight grip on grace. The past, fraught with documented atrocities, cannot be dropped. Forgiving and forgetting misdeeds that caused ignorance and impunity cannot be legislated, especially when facts are big as life. 

Only when truth becomes our guiding principle in governance can we fly free as we should in a democracy.  

It’s ironic how “move on” makes me and kakampinks (kindred spirits) vividly remember, especially those that happened 36 years ago. My friend Marian uploaded a photo of her treasured books about Martial Law and other important events during the dark periods of our history. These are literature the younger generation ought to read! 

After clicking a heart emoji, I was surprised when she messaged me back, “Grace, Fly, Malaya, Fly! is displayed proudly too!” 

It sure is—side-by-side with books that document how we lost our freedom. 

Fly, Malaya, Fly! is a children’s book which I co-wrote with my then 10-year-old son #3 and illustrated by Longlong Pesquira. It’s about letting a bird, Malaya (free) fly safe—our dream for everyone in this country: be free from the miseries of poverty (both economically and morally), caused by power-and-money-hungry leaders who run for office not for the people but for themselves. 

Young as he was, son #3 joined an essay writing contest, which won him a prize. As I had just retired from the workplace, I re-worked it with him, to further emphasize that birds are meant to soar high, not caged or hunted. 

The book was published by Caltex Philippines through Marian (then the Communications Manager)  for the Philippine Eagle Foundation "to ensure the survival of the Philippine Eagle, the biodiversity it represents, and the sustainable use of our forest resources for future generations to enjoy.” 

At the same hour when we were launching Fly, Malaya, Fly! in Davao, President Erap was deposed and was exiting from Malacanang—an event that dramatized our being malaya from a head of state found unfit to lead us.  

The book mirrors the aspirations of the song Bayan Ko (My Dear Country) composed in 1929, when Filipinos were struggling for independence from colonizers. Based on a poem by Jose Corazon de Jesus, the lyrics are a prayer of a people caged for over 400 years. The words likened the Philippines—a nest of tears and poverty—to a bird set free.

Today, June 12, we celebrate our Independence Day. Let's pink on and fly.

With courage, authors need to write more and the youth need to read books about our past. Alas, some of my author friends have been red-tagged for children’s books about dictatorship.  But we cannot allow our country to be locked-up again, not by lies and historical revisionism, financed by money stolen from us. 

“The righteous keep moving forward, and those with clean hands become stronger and stronger.” (Job 17:9 NLT)

Detox Farm and PINK Pleasures

Toxins from the bloody presidential election held three weeks earlier were coming out of our ears.  

Son #3 noticed that these were causing us—especially his aging parents—unnecessary anxiety, and declared we all needed detoxification. 

“My treat,” he said and booked an overnight stay in a farm in Bali, Indonesia on Philippine soil. 

What I remember of Bali, where I once attended a meeting, are all at Dewi Sri Farm, only better. Everything is natural—from hydroponically grown veggies and fruits to organically fed fish, chickens, and cattle. 

The air is pollution free as the farm is tucked in a 10-hectare lot away from the highway. And because it is in Laguna, where the soil is richer than many places in Metro Manila, all flora and fauna are ten times bigger, taller, and healthier than what we have in our garden. 

That blissful and peaceful weekend, we were the only guests—just Tony, two sons, and me. We claimed all as our own—the swimming pool, gazebo, fish pond, birds in the air, animals freely roaming around, and all other areas that the two boys toured on young, sturdy legs. Tony and I pretty much kept ourselves around the Indonesian villa. 

A surprise bonus: PINK pleasures were here and there—the décor, art pieces, flowers, and leaves. Why, even the tilapia was PINK! 

Beside the swimming pool, while the cicadas sang, the geckos rasped, and the birds chirped, I had a spirited chat with the farm manager, who is a kakampink. We reminisced about the campaign, and how it inspired volunteerism and awakened love for country. 

“I am looking forward to the Angat Buhay NGO,”  he said, “so I can help the needy with citizen Leni leading us.”  Like me, this is the first time he has ever participated in a political campaign in his life, although he had been a student leader in a state university. 

PINK made its presence felt. 

Whether in a toxic environment or a detox farm, hope occupies a space. With detoxified ears and eyes, we can clearly hear and see it, and appreciate the grace it brings. 

". . . if anyone cleanses himself from what is dishonorable, he will be a vessel for honorable use, set apart as holy, useful to the master of the house, ready for every good work." (2 Timothy 2:21 ESV)

Look for the (PINK) Star

An 85-year-old lady was asked by her daughter what her plan was for the PINK parol (star lanterns) hanging from their tree after Comelec announced the election results.  

“Leave them there. If they fade, replace them. So when things go bad, people will know we stood for what is right,” she replied. 

That, in sum, was one FB post of a kakampink, which my friend Joan forwarded to me with this message, “This made me think of your book, Look for the Star." 

Yes, the similarity is uncanny. 

Look for the Star is about hope—hope for an intemperate son to come back home where the big star, a metaphor for love, awaits unconditionally. In our Bible, the magi followed the star of Bethlehem which led them to the Hope of mankind. 

This book (published by Hiyas of OMF Lit and illustrated by Beth Parrocha-Doctolero) was awarded the ASEAN Grand Prize in a children’s book competition in Singapore by judges of different nationalities. Hope resonates with everyone, no matter where he comes from.  

Before Joan sent me this post, we had already taken down our PINK stars (over 50 of them in all sizes, hanging from trees around our house).  Mulling over the 85-year-old woman’s stand, I teared up (as I often do these days; please indulge me), and decided to hang one star again, “so if things go wrong, people will know we stood for what is right.”   

 When we first ordered bulk materials for campaign giveaways, we told the delivery boy, “Just look for the house with PINK stars.” 

He complained, “Almost all houses in your village have PINK stars!” Hope was ablaze then.   

But hope seems to hide now after a heartbreaking loss. Only the PINK stars in photos remind us that HOPE has not left.  

In Look for the Star, there was no way a delinquent boy would return home after many years. But his parents never took the star down, till he found his way back.   

By grace, hope is found in the heart of people who will never take the star down, because they don't give up. Believing they are on the side of good, they know that one day, the unenlightened, waylaid sons will look for the star. 

“We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed." (2 Corinthians 4:8-9)