The Woman In Yellow
By: Jan Paolo Recarro
I didn’t know her. She was a nameless face. Her name did not invoke any thoughts
for me. In essence, she was nobody. She was simply, the Woman in Yellow. That’s how I saw her then. Give me credit though; I was born the year of the EDSA Revolution. I left the Philippines too young to appreciate or recount anything I learned about Philippine History in school except of course for Jose Rizal. This Woman in Yellow was the image that would occupy my mind when hearing her name. Yet, when this woman passed away, a surge of emotions started to fill within me. I started to feel regret, regret that I had not invested more of my time to get to know this woman. I felt saddened, saddened by the loss of an icon, I felt inspired, inspired to know, to learn, and to make a change. Tita Cory, as many had called her, is as much as an inspiration to me as she had been to Filipinos, and others the world over. My very little knowledge of her comes from, and thanks to, my parents’ stories, stories that were invigorating and awe-inspiring. My dad talked of the times of Martial Law. He spoke of the crimes committed and the corruption that ensued. I could imagine the freedom of our country being diminished day by day, and the only hope for it was shed in the tears of its citizens. My mother spoke of the days she marched in rallies alongside others who were seeking change and those whose hopes had not yet diminished. She was just pregnant with me then. I didn’t realize it then, but I myself was part of that historical event. I was in the heat of it all, be it while in my mother’s womb. The stories were recounted to me through the years, but I did not find much interest in such topics. The Philippines that I had known as a young teenager had been that of a hopeless, diminished, poverty-stricken country. And I strongly felt that no one had done or can do anything to change that. I felt my parents were providing me with a blunt one-sided view of the country that they loved, a country that I, at the time, had no wish to return to. I tell you now I couldn’t have been more wrong. As I grew older I started to feel a renewed a sense of patriotism to the country that welcomed me to the world. It was the country of my ancestors, of my family, of my early childhood. I started to read books, stories, watch documentaries, and googled and wiki-ed the Philippines and its telenovela-like history. It was right out of a bad soap opera plotline. The stories that caught my attention and drew me closer to loving the country I now call home were those that were told to me by my parents; the stories of Martial Law, of Ninoy Aquino and former President Corazon Aquino. Ninoy Aquino became my hero. He became everything that I always hoped to be: successful, driven, passionate, loving, commanding, with journalistic tendencies and with a political idealism that many may have viewed futile and yet had the will and courage to stay the course. He was a political prisoner, something that I had, shamefully admitting now, always wanted to become. Moreover, his wife, the revolutionary leader of a passionate people, became more of an inspiration. I never had imagined the people of the Philippines to be of the passionate nature, loving their own. And yet, this Woman in Yellow, she was able to unite a crumbling opposition, inspire the citizens of a torn, shattered country to come together, and bring back democracy to the country that wept for it.
For me she symbolized what I did not think the Filipino had in them. She symbolized courage, a peace-loving nature and a pride for one’s own. To this day, she is a symbol of those things and many more. Behind her, Filipinos stood their ground against a tyrant who committed crimes of humanity against his own people to befit his own musings of the country he had come to pillage and destroy. She was an inspiration to us all, even myself, a young self-loathing cynic at the time. This Woman in Yellow, soft spoken and calm-mannered, it was she who gave me a free country to be born in. It was she who gave us a free country to love.
I will never forget what her and her husband has done for me, for my family and for our country. Today, regardless of where my travels have taken me, regardless of where I grew up, regardless of my citizenship, my passport, regardless of the friends I gained, the values, the morals, the language I speak, regardless of where I am or will be in the world, I can shout out loud to the world, because of her, that I am proud that I am Filipino, born and will die a Filipino.
My sincerest thanks and gratitude goes out to you, the Woman in Yellow.
No comments:
Post a Comment