Echo

…ok, so here’s what happened…

The morning started very
calmly. Eerily enough, I was asleep by 9 pm the night before, so I was
able to get a full night’s rest, thank goodness. My make up artist from
Pranav Salon (in Robinson’s Galleria) came and did wonders for me and my mom. (Aside:
Really, if you’re looking for a place to do your make up with full on
service, go to Pranav and look for Louie, the girl who did my make up.
A. MA. ZING. Special thanks to my best friend Sara who sponsored the
whole thing!)

We got married in a chapel in Marikina with
just our families, our maid of honor, and our best man. Since no one
else was there, they were surrounding us during the entire marriage
rite which lasted about 12 minutes. It was one of the most intimate and
special moments in our lives - to have the people we love the most
really - and I mean really - share this most important event in our lives with us.

After
that, we went to the Ateneo High School for our Thanksgiving Mass. We
had about 70 guests - all of them our most intimate friends. I walked
down the aisle with my parents by my side to the tune of I Must’ve Done Something Good from The Sound of Music, arranged by my best friend, GP Eleria.

The
Mass itself was wonderful, full of happy tears - as the guests will
tell you. We were just so overwhelmed with everything happening that we
couldn’t stop crying! The Ateneo Chamber Singers sang for us, and so did my friend Leslie Perez, my dad, and my brother.

We
then moved to the Seniors’ Quadrangle, also at the High School, just a
step, hop, skip away from the Chapel, for the reception. The food was
EXCELLENT. Our caterer, Kaye Cunanan,
served the most wonderful food. People were still talking about it
weeks after the wedding. Really, if you have a wedding, a debut, a
bar/bat mitzvah, heck, whatever coming up, you would really want to
consider having it catered by her.

After the rather funny cake
cutting ceremony, (we were cutting the fake-cake part…we didn’t know
that there were parts that wasn’t cake. I mean, we hadn’t done that
sort of thing before…) we had our first dance. We danced to Break On Through by The Doors,
to everyone’s delight. (Yes, it was choreographed. Yes, I choreographed
it. Yes, Chaddy really does love me that much to have done such a
thing…)

And then the rest of the night, everyone basically
just had fun. We were able to meet our guests and talk to them without
having a photographer follow us around and tell us to act properly. Nono Felipe and Carlo Santos,
two very dear friends of mine, took wonderful pictures. They were so
paparazzi-like in their unobtrusive ways, all of the pictures looked
alive and candid and real.

And so that’s how the happiest day of my life went.

Thank you to everyone who made it possible. We will never forget that.

Hello, everyone!

There’s this new group in Multiply.com that I would really like for you guys to join. Partners for a Racism-Free Community wishes to encourage people to share their views on the ongoing problem of racism in the world. It’s not necessarily a big issue for most of us who grew up in the Philippines because, well, we’ve never really been the minority there. But most of you know some of the struggles I have adjusting to how things are here in the US - more so accepting that I can’t change all this singlehandedly (although Lord knows I mouth off often enough to think I should!) When you think about the world being just one community though, in terms of standing, benefits, privileges, we really are the minority.

So anyway, I put up a multiply group site for a non-profit organization here, and I’d like for you guys to join the conversation. It would be great if you could comment so that others would know more about Filipinos, but if you would rather quietly read the entries, that’ll also be great. Either way, we just hope you’d learn something new.

It’s still new, so there’s not much activity going on. If you’re more confident about speaking your mind, that would also be fantastic. Hopefully that’ll start the ball rolling.

Hope to see you guys there!

(Of course, this means you have to have a Multiply account to join. Ü)

(From katinkateeny.multiply.com)

I’ve
been unbelievably sick with the flu the past few days and I’m still
recovering from it. This is no
I-want-to-declare-a-sick-day-because-I-have-a-Math-quiz flu. This the
real adult influenza thing. Nasty, nasty, nasty spell. I still get sudden attacks of nausea and it’s really not pretty.

Saw this meme from a lot of friends’ blogs and I thought I’d just give
it a whack because (a) I’ve read so many darned books, I might as well
not ignore this particular meme, and (b) nothing really that big has
happened - if you think spending every waking moment in bed writhing in
pain and nausea is big. I actually gave myself 2 whole days to consider
my answers since I had to do a major mental file check on all the books
I’ve read. And, of course, I’ve been in bed a lot and there’s really
nothing else I could do.

Since I had 2 days…I decided to cheat a bit with the answers, hehe.

1. One book that changed your life.

Cheat: I wouldn’t necessarily say one book, but I can say one anthology. That would definitely be the Chronicles of Narnia.
That’s what got me started with this whole reading bit, really. And I
still go back to reading the entire collection from start to finish
every quarter or so. But, if you want to be strict about it, then I
guess that would be the first book in the anthology then, The Magician’s Nephew.

2. One book you have read more than once.

When
I buy a book, that means I always read it more than once. So there, I
have no one answer to this question. I’m not even going to cheat my way
through this because the list is just too insanely long.

3. One book you would want on a desert island.

I haven’t read it yet, and I’m not sure if there is
a book that exists that fulfills this purpose (although I can be pretty
sure there is, if I just look hard enough.) Basically, I want a How to Get Off A Deserted Island for Dummies. Hah.

Maybe because I’m narcissistic, but I’d much rather have a journal than
a book when I get trapped in a deserted island. Hey, maybe I can write that how to get off a deserted island thingy.

4. One book that made you laugh.

Paul Reiser’s Couplehood
was actually pretty funny. Anything by Chuck Palahniuk makes me
laugh, albeit for darker reasons. Latest of his I’ve read is The Survivor. Asteeeg.

5. One book that made you cry.

The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell. I don’t even want to talk about it - it’s that painful and ugly and magnificently beautiful.

6. One book you wish had been written.

Oooh. Most definitely Everything Is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer.

7. One book you wish had never been written.

Mozart’s Sister by Nancy Moser. Read my review. Blech. Fantastic premise, total waste of time. It should’ve been written by someone else.

8. One book you are currently reading.

Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold by CS Lewis.

9. One book you have been meaning to read.

Cheat again: His Dark Materials,
a trilogy by Philip Pullman. I refuse to read a borrowed copy. I’m
weird that way with books I’m especially drool-y over. I’ve been wanted
to buy my own forever, but it’s always out of stock.

(Imported yet again from katinkateeny.multiply.com)

Last
week, I attended a seminar that was given by the local Institute for
Healing Racism. My mom thought that it would be a good idea for me to
go to sort of prepare me for being part of the über minor minority  in
school (Asians - and to make it even more minor: Filipino.)
GVSU is not necessarily known for its diversity - and neither is Grand
Rapids if you really think about it. So off I went to the seminar
without really knowing what to expect.

There
were 11 participants. Most of them were Dutch (of course, this being
Grand Rapids), some were part-Irish, one was half Argentinean half
Swiss, one African-American lady, and me.

The
first day we were made to watch all sorts of videos that showed
different forms of racism as propagated by society, mass media being
its staunchest ally back in the day. This being America, the focal
point was the blatant racism against the African Americans pre-1960’s.
But lots of acts of racism against Hispanics/Latinos and Asians were
also shown.

There
were the prerequisite images of the lynchings, Martin Luther King, Jr.,
Rosa Parks, etc. There were other images that were a little more
disturbing - the "Black Sambo," the bumbling African buffoon of a slave
who seemed to enjoy being a slave, the Mamie (ala Gone With the Wind and Aunt Jemima, the pancake syrup), young black babies who would get eaten by crocodiles - and they were all in cartoon.

Nowadays,
blatant racism is illegal. There are laws that protect minorities. What
is alarming are the inadvertent, discreet, and legal forms of racism. A look. An eyebrow. Lowered voices. And worst of all: the condescending smile.

Early on in the seminar, I realized how much racism I was going through just by going out of our house. I
came into the seminar thinking of how to arm myself against racism
against me, but, I realized that I was a racist in the way that my anger
towards the ubiquitous "THEM" hinders me from realizing that most of
the racism I’ve felt was borne out of ignorance,
not hate. Does this make it any better though? No. In fact, in a large
way, it makes it even more annoying. Better to slap an adult who is
being every bit of the a**hole, but you would never slap a wayward
child who doesn’t know any better. It really is infuriating. But, true
to IPP teachings
(Ignatian Pedagogical Paradigm), the context really does makes all the
difference.

Towards
the end of the first day, we were made to do an activity. We were all
made to line up against the back of the room facing the front. The
facilitator read from a list that he had. If what he read was true for
us, we could get to step forward. If it wasn’t, we had to stay behind.
He read a long list and I don’t want to put it all here (I provided a
link below that will direct you the article he used.) I will give you
some examples. Here are some of the things he read:

1. I can, if I wish, arrange to be in the copmany of people of my race most of the time.
2.
If I should need to move, I can be pretty sure of renting or purchasing
housing in an area which I can afford and in which I would want to live.
3. I can be pretty sure that my neighbors in such a location will be neutral or pleasant to me.
4. I can be sure that my children will be given curricular materials that testify to the existence of their race.
5.
If a traffic cop pulls me over or if the IRS audits my tax return, I
can be sure I haven’t been singled out because of my race.

…and
on and on and on. Every single white participant was able to take a
step forward at each item. I was only able to take a few. The
Argentinean-Swiss lady was able to take just one step over me. The
black participants? They did not move.

It
was numbing for me to be in that kind of situation, to say the very
least. I was angry and frustrated and humiliated. The funny thing was,
the white people felt the same way - for circumstances that were the
exact opposite of mine.

They didn’t realize how much they took for granted, in terms of the privileges that they were not supposed to have just because of being white, and how by their mere complacency they become complicit.

I,
however, had a two-pronged sword thrust into me. On the one hand, I
felt righteous indignation over the fact that my being Asian has kept
me at the back of the room. I grew up privileged myself - I’ve never
had to be afraid of any of those circumstances growing up. I came from
a good family, went to a good church, was popular in high school and
college, went to great schools, got good grades, had a noteworthy job, and
a bag of chips! I absolutely hated the fact that I had to be in that
situation just because I was in a different country. In a perfect
world, location should not mean a change in circumstance.
Unfortunately, it does. And it is most true here in the States.

My
sigh of relief is that I do not intend to become an American citizen. I
do not intend to make my everlasting home here. Chad and I fully intend
to raise our children in the Philippines. My being here is a step in a
plan that ultimately involves living in the Philippines happily ever
after.

And there’s the rub (and the second prong.) I realized
that had that activity been held in the Philippines, I could have
easily been on the other side of the room. It wouldn’t have been about
race though. It would have been about the kind of education I received,
my accomplishments, my money, my affiliations. I have also taken all
the privileges my "class" has bestowed upon me in the Philippines for
granted. And so when I return, I have to be mindful of that as well. I
will teach. I will learn. I will help. I will give. I will speak. I
will vote. And a bag of chips.

What separated the white participants from me and the other minorities was
not something we did. We were separated just because of how we look.
All we need to do to close that gap is to merely take a step towards
the middle. It’s a cliché because it speaks of the Truth: One step is
really all it takes.

I encourage everyone, in whatever
circumstance you may be, to take a step back and look at the room from
the back. The view really is quite different and you never know what
you’ll learn.

And then immediately take steps towards the center.

***

White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack by Peggy McIntosh:
http://seamonkey.ed.asu.edu/~mcisaac/emc598ge/Unpacking.html

(Imported from my Multiply site again…)

I measured
my height yesterday because I found a tape measure in the course of my
hunting for a pair of scissors and thought I might as well measure my
height.

Ladies and gentlemen. I am now 5′ 4/5". Let the fanfare begin! I grew 4/5 of an inch since…well, grade school.

Aw, shut up, you party poopers!

***

Which reminds me of an anecdote that I must share…

Back in college, Slimmer’s World had a promo. If we presented 3 packs of a certain "healthy" multi-grain chichiria,
we’d gain 3 free sessions (or something like that.) So my ever
enterprising best friend decided that we all try it out since (1) we
wanted to start some kind of activity we could all do together and, (2)
it was free.

When we got there, we presented our empty packs of chichiria
and sure enough, we were given free access! Before starting any free
exercise class though, we had to have our profiles taken. So off we
went to a room that had some attendant with a form.

My best
friend and I answered all the prerequisite questions: name, occupation,
etc. The girl then made us stand on a scale thing to weigh us and it
had that thing that unfolded on the top to measure our heights.

She gave her readings to us: I was 4′11 1/2". I knew I wasn’t 4′11 1/2" - I mean, I knew I was small, but for sure I reached 5′ man lang! So I kind of asked her to clarify that bit.

I never should’ve done that.

Here is the ensuing conversation:

Girl: Bale, ma’am, por ileben en wan hap po kayo. Pero ok lang ho yon. May discrefansi (discrepancy) naman po yung scale namin ng wan hap, so malamang 4′12" kayo.

Me: E di  5′.

Girl: Hindi, ma’am, 4′12".

Me: Uh, kaya nga. 5′.

Girl: Hindi, ma’am, 4′12". Kasi ito ho, tignan nyo…

(She takes out a sheet of scratch paper and a pencil…)

Girl: …(Writing it down as she dictates it to me - in a really haughty way, I might add) Por ileben en wan hap plas wan hap….(muttering under her breath)…kansel-kansel…wan hap plas wan hap…ikwals…12! (Triumphantly) Por ileben en wan hap plas wan hap, bikows op da discrefansi, ikwals 4′12"!!!

Me and My Best Friend: (Looking at each in defeat.) Oo nga naman.

***
And now I’ve grown. So now I’m 4′12 4/5"! En yur peys, man! 

(From www.katinkateeny.multiply.com. This is slightly edited because this will be seen by some people who are not privvy to certain personal matters in my life. I decided to put this here though because I thought it was a cute story. Teehee.)

My mom makes fantastic leche flan. I mean, it’s creamy and sweet and
rich and makes you believe in your fervent wish that eggs do not
contain bad cholesterol. She uses my Nana’s recipe, and it’s more or
less a no-brainer in terms of putting it all together. (Hyuh-rayyt.
Tss.)

Most
of my close friends already know this, but the first time I made leche
flan, I had my Mom taste it. She thought it was the best puto she had ever tasted. My brother made a similar attempt with (eerily enough) similar results.

A
few hours ago, Mama cooked a few pans for a costume dinner party she
was invited to (yes, costume dinner party…Since it’s Dr. Martin
Luther King, Jr. Day here, they’re all supposed to be dressed up as
human rights activists. Yep. They do stuff like that around here…Tell
me about it…Tss…) Providentially, my brother was here at that time.

Big. Deep. Breath. My brother and I decided to tackle that
wretched leche-flan-making hurdle once again, but this time, we were
going to do it together.

So I did the batter thing…making sure that it didn’t get bubbly but remained creamy (hence the puto-effect daw before.)
Paolo took care of caramelizing the brown sugar (we both got a little
jumpy when the sugar went bubbly and popped, hehe…note for the
future: it really does that, so don’t scream like a girl…)

We
were doing ok, the batter had about 2 bubbles in it and the caramel
burned only in a teeny spot…we wrapped it (double wrapped it in
fact!) so that the steam wouldn’t get into the pan but merely surround
it to cook it perfectly (another reason for the puto effect…)

Meanwhile, Mama left dressed as a Muslim activist in honor of our Muslim heritage (we’re from Iligan.)

(This is totally non-sequitur but I just had to say, she looked really funny in a malong in the middle of a snow storm.)

We
waited the pre-requisite 1 hour. We took it out of the steamer. (It
looked really professional, too…we have those huge steamer
thingamajiggies that the chinese use…) We removed both foil wrappings.

It was too liquid-y.

Denial always comes first, doesn’t it?

We
said it wasn’t undercooked…we just had to let it set. So we let it
set. Then we both thought maybe it would be better if it set in the
fridge, so that’s what we did.

45 minutes later, we had the best tasting squishy pudding we had ever tasted.

As I see it, the foiled leche flan attempt (pun intended, you’ll see how there’s a pun in a bit…)

1.
The double foil wrapper might have blanketed the pan too much (see? The
pun…) As a result, it might have needed to be inside the steamer a
bit longer.

2. The pan was too big (it was a bit big…) It might’ve needed more cooking time.

3. Mama left, bringing with her the good leche flan joojoo.

4.
The 3 Bears Theory (patent pending…): First 2 attempts must always be
too (insert adjective) - Papa Bear - and too (insert opposite of previous adjective) - Mama Bear.
Third attempt will always be just right.

But this trumps all of that…

This afternoon was golden because I made syrupy, sipon-like, palpak leche flan with my brother. We
laughed and screamed and laughed at ourselves. It was fantastic.

Lots of fun. Can’t wait for the 3rd time, the Baby Bear attempt.
 

(from www.katinkateeny.multiply.com)

I was watching Sesame Street
yesterday. I was flipping through the channels and I saw that animated
bit where there’s this bellhop who goes around the hotel he works in,
getting into precarious situations, just to feature the number or
letter of the day (yesterday it was the number 2.) You know, the really
thin bellhop with the really round face - the animation’s very 50’s art
deco-ish.

Anyhoo…

There’s
a new part - well, it’s not really new, since I read somewhere that
it’s been there for a while. It just wasn’t there during my time.
Apparently, since Dora the Explorer and Blue’s Clues were so successful because of their attempt to involve the child ("Can you tell me where she’s hiding kids?! Yes, that’s right!"), Sesame Street decided to follow suit. One part that specifically involves the child is the portion Elmo’s World.

Yesterday, in Elmo’s World,
it was Family Day. So Elmo showed the drawing he made of his Mom and
Dad…his pet fish had her relatives over as well (yeah, I know…) And
he showed the kids an MTV (in the way that only Sesame Street can, reminiscent of "Everybody Sleeps") featuring different kinds of families.

Family 1: Caucasian Mom, Dad, and two daughters.
Family 2: Asian Mom, Dad, three children, Grandmother, and Grandfather.
Family 3:Caucasian Mom and Asian Daughter.
Family 4: African American Dad, Caucasian Mom, Multi-racial daughter.
Family 5: African American Gay Couple and Asian son.

Yes. African American Gay Couple and Asian son. As Borat would say, "Wowoweewow!" They most certainly did not have that during my time!

I’ve
never really thought about Gay Marriage that much because it was just
too controversial a subject for me to get into, especially since it
doesn’t necessarily have to be my personal problem. But now that it has
invaded the wonderfully fluffy world of Sesame Street,
I am forced to actually confront the issue (along with a million other
0-12 year olds…) Also because, now that I’m in the throes of planning
for my own wedding and subsequent marriage, I can’t help but think
about gay men and women would like to have this kind of joyful
anticipation (and morbid stress, if I might add .)

Gay
people have every right to fall in love and be with the ones they love
just like everyone else. But to be joined in marriage…I dunno. I
think the very term "marriage" is the cause of my uncomfortability,
precisely because it such a sacred and religious term in my mind.
Marriage is a sacrament, a bond, an sacred commitment involving God’s
knowledge, affirmation, acceptance, and blessing. I believe that
marriage should be between Man and Woman as the Lord intended it.

However…

Gay
men and women should have the opportunity to declare and show their
commitment to the world. What a lot of other people don’t understand is
the inherent need to have their relationship recognized. And I’m all
for that. In my opinion, a legal union should be made available to
them. Spousal rights for each of them. I know of some gay couples who
have a more nurturing and lasting relationship than the kind some of my
heterosexual friends have. In a way, I think we could learn a lot from
these gay couples. The fact that they stay together despite so many
other obstacles apart from just what happens between the two of them is
nothing short of amazing.

My only actual problem would be the term "marriage."

Of
course, despite all my experiences with gay friends, I still don’t know
the actual length and breadth of this entire issue, so I am admitting
that my own opinion is not based on anything else but my own personal
beliefs and biases - borne out of my very limited experience and actual
knowledge.

How can anyone be but biased when comes to an issue such as this?

I’d
like to think of myself as mostly Democrat - but I am a Christian
first. The belief that marriage should just be between Man and Woman is
too unshakable for me. I know there are a lot more arguments to
consider, and I’m sure they’re very sound. In fact, I’d be interested
to hear about them. Maybe then all this will make more sense to me.

Can you believe it? A furry, little, red puppet made me think about Gay Marriage. I got that from Sesame Street - I can’t even begin to imagine what The E! True Hollywood Story would make me think about.

(Transported from www.katinkateeny.multiply.com)

Geez, Louise.

I’m sorry, I’ve been traipsing along the cyber way, reading various blogs of acquaintances and strangers.

Seriously, people.

Let it be known that if you choose to write a blog using a certain language, make sure you use it properly!!! There is absolutely nothing wrong with writing in Filipino, Chinese, Czech, or whatever. But if you’re going to write using English, PLEASE, use the language properly!!!

SERIOUSLY! I don’t know if I should laugh or stomp my feet.

1. Use "and" and not "to" when using "between." For example: "The parcel will be arriving between 4 AND 6 this afternoon." Use "to" when using "from." For example: "The dance will be from 6 TO 11 pm."

2. Direct quote: "…to which I contributed to." UGH!!!! It should be: "…to which I contributed." (Oh, and the stress is on the second syllable, not the third…say it with me…contri’buted. Same thing for distributed. Distri’buted.) Same goes for "for." For example "…for which I am accountable."

3. Ellipses should always only be 3 dots/periods. For example: "To be continued…" Never more than that. Not "To be continued…….."

There were lots more than irked me, but I won’t dwell on them anymore. These are just the top 3…(notice, just 3 dots/periods, folks) oh, and don’t get me started with Subject-Verb Agreement.

Don’t mean to be hoity-toity (and yes, that is a real word), but seriously, if you plan to use something, use it correctly - that holds true for anything, right? Some of you are trying so hard to be witty and all that (that is an attempt-failure ratio of a different topic altogether, but I tend to be more compassionate when it comes to lack of timing and rapier wit.) Save yourself the trouble. One thing at a time. Master the language first.

Let me put it in a way that you would understand: Kung mag-fi-feeling-feelingan ka lang, wag ka na mag-English. Wiz benta, kapatid.

Let this be your mantra: "Preview and Spell Check…Preview and Spell Check…Preview and Spell Check…"

Ah, that’s what you get for having rap stars and stupid heiresses as role models.

Get me back into a classroom! I miss teaching…that’s probably the reason behind this whole rant.

Must. Instruct. Must. Teach. Kill. Bad. Grammar.

(Nota Bene: Transported from www.katinkateeny.multiply.com)

So
I’m kinda liking this pseudo-high this jetlag is giving me. I’m trying
hard not to sleep at odd hours, limiting myself to sleeping during
normal hours (define normal?) As a result, I’m sorta floating about now.

I’ve
seen several squirrels and chipmunks now. In my stupor, I’ve imagined
them wearing bomber jackets, Indiana Jones-esque hats, and red Hawaiian
shirts. Such is the influence of good ol’ Walt on me.

It
isn’t so bad yet. Mostly because I haven’t had a minute to myself yet.
Except for now. Everyone’s out leading actual lives while I continue
bumming around. I’m totally resisting the urge to clean up the house.
Well, because this is carpet. Carpet’s a whole new arena for
asthmatic-y me. I’m used to marble floors that are oh-so-easy to
disinfect. What am I gonna do with all real and imagined bacteria
living in the fibres of the carpet?!?

But
because of this denying myself of having an actual emotional breakdown,
I’m kinda afraid of the time when it actually hits me. Maybe it’s not
so bad because I know I’m still going to see the Bear in a few months. (But how I miss him! Telenovela montages with sappy love songs were made for moments like this.) But on my Nth hour of watching VH1 (such a fascinating
channel, really) I realized I miss my daily brain-beating sessions by
watching Bulagaan. I miss Vic and Jose, damnit ("La, la, la, lala, La,
la, la, la, lala. La, la, la, la, la, la, LA!") That beats Angelina’s
confession about her actual relationship with El Brad-o. ("We’re bound
to our children, and that’s what’s important." Sure. If you ask me,
you’re just running out of space to tattoo another weird marriage for
posterity.) I miss the inefficiency of the guards of Burgundy. Ugh. And
yes, the never-ending drilling of Esteban Abada that remind the good
people of Quezon City that Sonny Belmonte really is doing his darnest
to make Quezon City the best city in the entire frikkin’ world!
(THUNDER! LIGHTNING! DRY ICE! FADE TO BLACK!!!)

Oy.
Of course, this isn’t just jetlag. Folks, let it be known that I am,
uh, discontinuing certain habits that have become a way of life for
someone who has been living alone for 5 years. Yes, by Jiminy Cricket
(curse you, Walt!), I shall overcome.

Deep, slow, well-paced breaths.

So I was watching yet another episode of Oprah and instead of being reduced to tears because of touching moments, I am mad.

Her special report was on the deteriorating state of US Education. As should be, she underscored the gravity of the number of high school drop outs, etcetera. Having been a teacher for 3 years and having decided on continuing to do so till I am able, I totally get it. I. Get. It.

What I am livid about are the following:

Oprah said that based on some study or another, the US now places 24th in terms of Math aptitude. Shocking. What she said after, however, disturbed me (and it still does.) She said that "poorer" nations are now doing better. It’s not so much that she was stating details that could have easily been supported by facts. It was her whole attitude about it. As if those "poorer" nations had no right to be better than the US.

She then said that the position that America has a as a world leader is now being threatened by the fact that its children are basically getting dumber (my paraphrasing, not her words.)

So!?!?!?!

What about nations that do not have the ability to place in any positive global standard because of the debt they have with these alleged power nations? What about the million of children ELSEWHERE, in the rest of the world (read: MAJORITY of the WORLD) who are not given the right to free quality education?

So what if these "poorer" nations are doing better? Instead of talking about how badly that puts America in WHATEVER list it leads in, how about giving due kudos to these nations who have recognized that the greatest weapon they have against the tyranny of poverty is education?

Listen up. The problem, America, is that you have grown too complacent and arrogant. You are raising children used to comfort, who feel as if they don’t need to work to have luxury. While this is what is ideal, you are, in a nutshell, raising a nation of spoiled brats.

Us "poor nations" know we have to work hard. Sure, there are all sorts of things that continue to bog us down: corruption and greed and hatred and envy. But we work. And you know what the good thing about being used to being at the bottom is? When somebody overtakes us, we can congratulate them and know we just need to keep working to be better. Not begrudge others of hard-earned success.

Shame, shame, shame on you.

And yes, I do realize the irony of the fact that I will be going there in about a month to study EDUCATION there. Yeah. See how this poor Filipino will break all your learning curves. See how this poor Filipino will show you all what learning is for.

You go focus on your problem, because that is valid. But don’t go harping on it just because it makes you look bad. It makes you look bad because others are beginning to look better.

WHAT KIND OF STANDARD IS THAT? Greatness is not relative. You either are or you aren’t.