37/43. In my classroom, I teach my students to respect the law but never to worship it as the final source of truth.
Because law and lawyers are often used as tools of oppression and exploitation.
Around the world, activists and communities are brought to court through strategic lawsuits against public participation to shut them up to prevent them from fighting for their rights.
This comes in the form of baseless cases: qualified theft against farmers, destruction of property for labor union workers, terrorist and terrorism financing for NGO leaders.
Oppressors bring these cases to court in an attempt to legitimize oppression.
Outside of the courts, lawyers working for powerful clients silence activists and communities in other ways. As soon as cases are filed against certain development workers, lawyers forget the sacred principle of “innocent until proven guilty” and immediately stop people from participating in matters of public interest, with the justification that they are just being prudent.
Prudence is a virtue…until it violates constitutional rights.
Many are prevented from speaking in parliaments/congresses just because of cases filed against them.
Ironically, many of those who sit in parliaments/congresses have pending cases and yet, they can speak anytime.
Lawyers and the law are often used as tools of oppression and exploitation.
That’s why I advice my students to frame their lawyers oath, and hang them in their offices to constantly remind them of their duty.
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38/43. One of my most treasured moments in life were those nights I spent with friends while we were taking our Masters of Law in Stockholm.
The “party” was the preparation for dinner itself, and everything else that comes after that. We would gather in small Scandinavian kitchens to prepare a meal — each bringing his/her skill set. Mine was doing the dishes and taking pictures. On those nights, the conversations flowed, along with it, laughter and wonderful reflections.
My cousins from the Benjamin side and I are now determined to come together for regular reunions. Precious two to three days of gathering around the table, sharing stories, exchanging ideas. Reminding each other of the blessed lives that we lead.
The older I get, the less I spend on material things.
But I love patiently saving my extra funds to bring people together, to fly to Manila for dinners with Law School friends, to meet friends halfway for a cup of coffee and conversations. I love random mid-day invitations. Asa ka? Mangape ta! Init kaayo. Beer ta?
We need more time together. Just being together matters. It matters a lot.
39/43. Me: Gikutasan ko, Pa. Baling inita.
Papa: Ha? Wa jud koy gibati na init.
Me: Aircon man gud imong tibook balay.
Papa: Ay. naabot na ang bill. Bayari na!
A typical banter at lunch time.
After our medical scare early this year, I told my sister that we have decided to eat lunch with Papa every day. This requires me to leave our apartment before noon, and yes, feel the maddening heat of the sun.
It’s just better this way so I can regularly check on how he is dong. He is the stereotypical man. Mag-tigi ‘sa mo usa siya magpa check-up sa hospital.
Papa has always been an ever-present parent. Even though I was just the narrator in a program back in elementary (because I did not have any talent in singing or dancing), Papa would always be present! He was always present in all our PTA meetings. When my younger sister was a majorette in elementary, Papa would even follow her during the parade in the City streets. Even though my older sister was already mature enough, Papa would fetch her-take her to the airport each time she left Dumaguete. We never had a car as we were growing up but Papa would bring all three of us siblings, and even commute just so we can go on little hikes and big adventures. Rivers, caves, waterfalls. We had a wonderful, wonderful childhood. And on difficult days, Papa might not say much, but I would often find a box of juice, some bars of chocolates, and buko in our fridge at home. Ni-agi si Papa nimo, Attorney, nagdala ani.
I hope I am now present enough in Papa’s life. I try. Every day, I try.
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Author’s email: [email protected]
