Essay
Students as catalysts of change
From Our Archives: ‘Marcos and Martial Law may be things of the past. But greater challenges have to be faced,’ wrote an AUL Social Sciences professor
(Editor’s Note: This article was first published in Aquinian Herald’s inaugural print issue, dated October 2012, and the 26th Anniversary of the EDSA Revolution)
“As an educator, what interests me most is the student sector. What differences may be discerned between students during the Martial Law era and students of today who were born after those turbulent years?” — By Prof. Leila Y. Aboga
The 1986 EDSA Revolution which brought the end of the Marcos dictatorship recorded two firsts in the annals of the world: a government toppled by people power - a non-violent mass movement that involved millions of citizens, and the installation of a woman president. With the demise of the Martial Law regime, the struggle for democratic rights of all sectors of Philippine society, which was so enflamed during the Martial Law years due to repression, gained legitimacy. For the student sector, it was a momentous occasion. Student organizations were allowed to flourish, campus papers blossomed, and student unrest seemed to have simmered down.
Fast forward 2012. Twenty five years after the EDSA Revolution, historians would say that the Philippines as a nation has not learned from the past. The familiar names who ruled during those dark years are still gracing the halls of power today. Graft and corruption is still as rampant, vote-buying is an accepted way of life, and the list goes on. After the surge of anger against Marcos, the furor died down and apparently, apathy once more descended unto the Filipino people.
“What differences may be discerned between students during the Martial Law era and students of today who were born after those turbulent years?”
As an educator, what interests me most is the student sector. What differences may be discerned between students during the Martial Law era and students of today who were born after those turbulent years? What could students of today’s globalized world learn from them whose college years were punctuated by dissent?
“Kung hindi tayo kikibo, sino ang kikibo? Kung hindi tayo kikilos, sino ang kikilos? Kung hindi ngayon, kelan pa?”
“Don’t let your schooling interfere with your education.”
These are the slogans that were boldly plastered on the bulletin boards along the halls of the Palma Hall, otherwise known as the College of Arts and Sciences (CAS) of the University of the Philippines during the turbulent years of the Martial law period.
“Promising students dropped out of school and vented their passions into fighting the Marcos regime and making life better for the marginalized and dispossessed.”
Schooling, then, was defined as the mechanical process of ticking the subjects off the prospectus and finally graduating from college with a degree in tow. It entailed religiously attending classes, listening to the professors and passing the exams. But education was different. It meant learning the truths of Philippine society, and doing something about it. That was real education. Most of the students belonged to the first category. They graduated and went on to become successful in their own fields. But many trekked the less trodden path of the second category. Promising students dropped out of school and vented their passions into fighting the Marcos regime and making life better for the marginalized and dispossessed. Some paid with their lives, others suffered prison time at Camp Bicutan.
The same pattern emerged in the colleges and universities in the provinces. The UP, or Metro Manila universities at that, did not have the monopoly of students who went missing, or were incarcerated. Here in Bicol, students of our very own Aquinas University were at the forefront of the student movement. Too, some fell along the way. After twenty five years, it would be interesting to dissect whether the martial law slogans have lost their relevance or whether they are still calls to be heeded.
While national liberation movements marked the trend of the 20th century, the 21st century ushered in the global village. A global village wherein the first world countries lie in the center, followed by the second world, and the third world at the outermost sphere. According to the world system theory, the first world countries are the most advanced and developed countries, second world countries are the developing, and the third world are the the underdeveloped countries. Thus people, especially from the third world, aspire to penetrate into the second and first worlds for them to be able to enjoy the same quality of life. To be able to do so, they have to increase their potentials through skills and schooling; since the first and second world would take nothing but the best. Thus, we define a “quality” graduate as he or she who is equipped to rise to the challenges of the global village.
The danger in this global perspective is not that we produce quality graduates; since earning a college degree is still the primordial goal of a university education. The danger is that our graduates may precisely be global individuals; focused on getting to the center, without thought of the nation and its people. Globalization provides the illusion of erasing geographic and racial boundaries. But the truth still stands that countries are governed by their own rules which are crafted for the protection and advancement of each country and its citizens. While the first world’s peoples reap the fruits of their governments’ efforts, peoples of the third world suffer the consequences. Environmental degradation, depletion of natural resources, backward agricultural economy and widespread poverty are distinct features of third world countries. Unfortunately, despite claims to the contrary, the Philippines is one of them.
Education, thus, must address the challenge of producing quality graduates who are not only globally competitive but graduates who are passionate advocates: for environmental preservation, for responsible use of resources, for more equitable distribution of wealth, for genuine industrialization, for a more nationalist economic policy, for clean elections, or simply for good governance.
“Pagkibo” and “pagkilos” may not be as dramatic now as then, but the essence remains. Students, as a sector, can become a powerful catalyst of change. Especially since they will carry their advocacies far into adulthood; when they become doctors, lawyers, engineers, teachers, entrepreneurs, nurses or whatever they are to become.
Marcos and Martial Law may be things of the past. But greater challenges have to be faced. The struggle against repression may have subsided but deeper, more far-reaching issues have to be addressed. Sacrifices may not be as life-changing, but tasks have to be accomplished.
Would then it be irrelevant to ask our present-day students this question: “Kung hindi tayo kikibo, sino ang kikibo? Kung hindi tayo kikilos, sino ang kikilos? Kung hindi ngayon, kelan pa?” ■ Aquinian Herald
About the Author: Leila Y. Aboga is a former faculty member of the College of Arts, Sciences, and Education (CASE) of Aquinas University, and taught History, Political Science, and Social Science.
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