#dad lessons

[golfwithmyfinger]

Every dad can learn to do this.

[gradstudentdrone]

"Why does he always have to bring it back to colonialism?" Papa & the political lessons he tried to teach me

"From the belly of the best, hands-off the Middle East!"

This Saturday, I was with other protestors in front of the White House calling for a free Palestine, a permanent ceasefire, and the need to hold the US war machine accountable for its acts of aggression. While chanting and marching and listening to speeches, hazy memories of the lessons that my dad tried to teach me about colonialism came to me, unbidden:

I was 9 or 10 when listening to long-running debates between my dad and his dad, my Lolo Leon, and also my dad and his father-in-law, my Lolo Turong, about whether the Philippines should continue allowing the United States to operate military bases in the Philippines. Like a sponge, I paid attention to what was being said, only half-understanding the context but nevertheless riveted by all these male elders - all lawyers, all opinionated, all convinced that they were correct - eloquently refuting each other. I liked being in these 'male' spaces where politics was discussed: it was way better being here than watching Filipino daytime variety shows like Eat Bulaga! with the others. My dad was unwavering in his conviction that the US military bases had to be vacated and that the so-called security protections that the US provided were non-existent. I remember being confused about what they meant. Why was my dad so adamant that the Philippines needed to get rid of Americans? Why was he so upset about their continued presence - shouldn't we be grateful to Americans like Douglas MacArthur, who 'liberated' the Philippines? Wasn't this what my history teacher taught us? Later, as I thought of these discussions, I soon became worried what the US departure would mean for me. Specifically, I worried about accessing the amenities at Camp John Hay in Baguio - historically a US military reservation - where we regularly went for summer vacations. If the US military left, does this mean that the really cool, US-style ice cream parlor that served yummy sundaes would be gone too? How about mini-golf? Also, what about Subic Bay? If the Americans left, then where else would we get cheap American goods, like the Kraft Dinner mac and cheese that I loved so much? I decided right then and there that my dad was wrong and that I wanted the US to stay in the Philippines. (I can't believe I was a little imperialist, all for the sake of maintaining my access to American-style ice cream sundaes and KD).

In my grade 9 social studies class, we were studying the 'Arab-Israeli' war. A major class assignment was for all members of the class to take part in a role-play, brokering peace negotiations. I was assigned to be Yasser Arafat, trying to work out a settlement with Yitzhak Rabin. We each had to deliver speeches, role playing the historical figure we were assigned. My dad learned about the assignment and was excited. However, when he saw the books I had checked out from the library, he was dismayed. He said that these books did not appropriately give credence to Palestinian struggles. He picked one up, read a chapter, looked at the book jacket and threw the book on the floor, furious. "These books only tell part of the history," he said forcefully,"These are selective! This is propaganda!" Being thirteen and generally inclined to do the exact opposite of what my parents advised, I rolled my eyes: was my dad truly saying that he knew more than the writers of these books? That he knew more than my teacher? (Note to readers: this was exactly what he was saying - my dad was well-read and kept up-to-date with political affairs and in a different life would've pursued his PhD in political science). I only partially listened as he spoke, tuning out while he talked about colonialism and occupation. Why does he always have to bring up colonialism?, I internally fumed. Later, as I wrote my speech as Arafat, my dad decided that he would provide annotated speaking notes (!). I decided the best way forward was to try to reconcile what he wrote with what I wrote. I took out words like 'nakba' -- what was that? Was that really important? Why was my dad putting in references that we didn't learn about? Also, his speech was too long! We were only supposed to talk for 5 minutes. In the end, I used my speech and rewrote parts of his. I received an A+ for my speech (and in fact won the Social Studies Award for that year!) , which my dad was happy about, but not without reminding me that Israeli aggression in Palestine is ongoing and unceasing.

I know that it seems odd that it took me until this Saturday to remember what my dad was trying to tell me, to teach me, to drill into me, about colonialism, about US hegemony, about imperialism, about Zionism. I had always assumed that it was my own reading and research and reflecting that has shaped my belief systems. I know now, though, that I imbibed the lessons my dad was imparting subconsciously, forming who I am today. And for that, I am grateful.

[mymindonflames]

People have so much pride. To argue successfully, you must not make the other one feeling as though you are attacking their pride.

[sydwiki]

working on a father's day card for my dad. Because, you know, dads teach us all the things we need to know!

[dadcore]

 I left my phone in a NYC cab this weekend and it was mailed back to me yesterday with the help of a friendly cab driver and the technology of iCloud. This gives me hope in humanity and technology.

The guy who found it said: "My father always told me that if you pick something from street, that's my responsibility to send it back. I am doing what I learned from my parents."

[little-spittle]

I can literally only maintain like three interpersonal relationships at one time if I'm absent you're currently on a shameful rota I deny the existence of (and it's not your turn)