So my exposure was supposed to be one month long
and I would be doing the Bayan USA's Peace Mission.
[We'd] focus on the Bangsamoro communities, the Islamicides, the Indigenous peoples in Mindanao.
The purpose is to go into the communities and to learn from them
about how U.S. military involvement, U.S. government involvement
in their communities is affecting them.
Also in the programming we would go to
a Lumad school in the mountains,
and also learn about their struggle.
So that was all the program part,
that was the organized part, where I was with other kasamas (comrades), other Filipino-Americans.
I was at the evacuation camp at U.C.C.P. Haran
Someone arranged for me to be picked up
so someone picked me up in Davao City and drove me to Tandag City,
but I was alone at that point.
So that was the beginning of being on my own
When I first got to the camps
I had no expectations.
I had never seen images of this backwit.
You have to drive to get into the sports center,
like there's this little pathway that you drive.
And all along that road,
they have protest signs like stuck in the dirt.
So you're driving and you're seeing, "Stop Lumad Killings,"
"Junk Mining Act of 1995."
"Junk Department of Education Memo 221."
It's all protest, all the time, in any space.
So that was really cool, like driving through that, I was like, "Woah" and then-
When I got to the gates, there's all these people guarding the gates,
and they're all just evacuees themselves.
It's a very organized evacuation camp, like incredibly organized.
Everyone has many roles and duties.
Everyone's just crowding around the van, just looking in to see.
and I'm just like, I have no idea how to carry myself right now, I don't know when I'm supposed to speak.
The very first day I was only in the camps for like a minute.
Just like no color.
Just dirt.
I didn't feel like there was high spirit in the environment.
It's been a frustration of mine since I've been back.
One of the biggest differences
[is] the way that youth is conceptualized.
In this country, and in the colonized parts of the Philippines,
"youth" is living your life.
What is "living your life"?
Hedonism.
Having fun.
Following your dreams.
Just like all these concepts of like, revelry and consumption.
Really, what I wanna say, in this country, being young is getting drunk everyday.
To be a strong, young person is to assert that like, your role is to have fun.
That's not necessarily bad, but there's no balance.
My point is the contrast being...
That's a very accepted understanding of "youth" that we internalize here.
When I was in the evacuation camps,
the way that they think about youth first and foremost, is-
to be young, means that you struggle.
Means that you serve your people.
And it sounds like so romantic,
or it might sound like that they're just conditioned and told- but it's not like that.
It's like, they're empowered by it, because why wouldn't you be?
Generations before, my ancestors, my parents have continued this struggle
And it's a gift. Because I'm young, I fight.
The basis of youth in the culture is in collectivism-
is in that separate idea- to be young means that you are fighting for your people.
That's when you have the energy to do it,
that's what's been cultivated for you.
But here it's like, youth is individualistic
And I know I'm making really like, blanket and general statements that are obvious, but
when it comes to everyday life choices,
when it comes down to a general psychology in the way you move through the world,
it is so different.
One is sustainable and one isn't.
In my opinion. Maybe I'm wrong and like all these people I know who are getting drunk every night are really empowered.
In the most general sense, all over the world,
not only do Indigenous communities coincidentally live on the richest land in the world,
the richest in oil, minerals...
It is rich because they cultivated it, because it's a reciprocal relationship between human and earth.
The Lumads live on rich land and many, many minerals.
Because the Philippine government still functions like a semi-colony,
the interests of foreign mining corporations and foreign investors
always comes before the people.
So the Lumads are facing very strategic, calculated murder and displacement.
And disempowering, you know- shutting down and burning down their schools,
daily harassment- just because there are corporations who want their land.
And the Filipino people will not see any of that profit.
That is the basis reason why that's happening.
The colonial relationship between the Philippine government and the U.S. government allows that to happen.
So it all comes down to capitalism and imperialism.
But of course, you know, it's so much more complex than that.
Another factor that isn't helping
is the fact that there is civil war in Mindanao.
The Lumads are essentially- by the Philippine government- strategically placed in the middle of the civil war.
The Lumad are farmers.
That's all they want.
Like, it's very simple. They just want to be able to have their farms
and continue growing their food
and living off the land, and not needing anything from anyone.
'Cause the Philippine government has always neglected them,
And at this point, the Lumads have integrated with- in their communities-
in their communities, they're a hundred percent self-sufficient.
They don't need any government aid.
It's never been given, and so they figured it out on their own.
They're politically unified.
We're talking like, many tribes across the region.
Many villages amongst one tribe.
So they all carry the same political education, the same thought, which keeps them organized.
The unification politically leads to food stability projects,
The development of the Lumad schools, which empower the youth, because they're culturally specific.
You know, they teach the kids about their rights
while also teaching them agriculture and livelihood.
So of course the government's panicking.
It's such a threat that this next generation of Lumad kids are like,
ready to fight, ready to defend in every way- politically,
they're ready. And they know they're ready and they're not afraid.
The Armed Forces of the Philippines- the AFP- sends battalions-
funded by U.S. tax dollars-
sends these counter-insurgency battalions into the communities.
What does that look like?
Fully armed soldiers- and I witnessed this first hand.
They literally take people's homes.
They camp on the school grounds
where children are going to school
Then they'll start to do things. Manipulative shit:
Handing out blankets, handing out food and water.
You know, so the people feel like- 'cause they need it, they have to take it,
but then holding it against them, and then as an excuse, later to be like,
"We were just there to offer aid," you know.
Textbook, textbook shit.
Many less kids start going to class.
Families kind of stay in their homes, people are on guard,
but for the most part, people keep trying to do their thing.
And at some point, shit gets violent.
The AFP doesn't want to be caught committing these human rights violations.
So what they do is create these paramilitaries.
"Paramilitaries" is the more official word.
My personal terminology that I would use is like, "hitmen."
They create these little armies of hitmen,
pay them a lot of money to go into Lumad communities and just kill.
[By] whatever means necessary; force them off their land.
Then they get paid out, then the AFP batallions that participated- or at times, didn't participate- is paid out
Sometimes the local barangay (village) captain is paid out.
to keep silent. Sometimes the police captains are paid out to keep silent.
As many people as they can get to be complicit through bribery, they will.
Then they kill innocent Lumads; they kill the most powerful leaders:
the activists, the political organizers, chieftains, datus, teachers, spiritual leaders.
The executive director of the school.
You know, trying to dismantle Indigenous resistance.
In some ways, it's working.
In many ways, it's not working and the Lumads are just getting stronger and more unified.
So there are many mining companies interested in the land in Mindanao.
Just for this, I will speak specifically about the region that I was in,
in the Caraga region, and the Manobo tribes that I lived with.
One of the largest threats is Abacus.
Abacus is a foreign mining corporation who has already set up their machinery on the land.
The communities in the evacuation camp I was in were displaced on December 1 (2015).
They're still there. There's about 3,000 of them.
Abacus is waiting for the leaders of these Lumad leaders to sign away the land treaty,
which will never happen.
It's just a lot of unknowns.
What my biggest fear is...
The one that I experience day in and day out since I've been back-
in my waking life, in my dreams-
is that the students- the kids in the schools of TRIFPSS and ALCADEV, the Lumad schools-
that they will lose the passion that they have for education.
It's almost like, unfathomable
to American youth to really see the way that these kids value their school.
It's everything; it's the pride and joy of the community,
but even for each student, that's where they're happy.
I don't know, but I also don't wanna
go into that whole romanticized, bullshit trope of [the] third world of like,
"Oh, they just love- they just know how lucky they are to have-"
It's not like that.
All they long for everyday is to have their school back.
Technically they're still continuing classes in evacuation,
but they lost their farms, which is a huge part of their school.
They lost their livelihood.
I'm worried that the really, really, really rough living conditions of evacuation-
I just don't want them to get disillusioned.
These kids are so passionate and so in love with knowledge and learning.
So committed to the fight, and they know like,
"I would have to be as literate as I can"- in political terminology, English even.
"I have to be as strong a student as I can be, because
that is what's gonna keep my culture alive, what's gonna allow me to continue to farm."
But even in the short time that I lived there
I saw so many students just lose focus.
Just stop coming to class.
Normal "at-risk youth" shit that I've dealt with in education,
but this is happening so much more abruptly.
It's not different than being in an inner city,
where kids are like, not really interested in school.
It's similar, it's the same oppression, but it's just the abruptness of it.
That's my biggest fear... is that the government's evil strategies
will successfully keep the kids from even wanting education
'Cause I believe that their education is their revolutionary tool.
I really believe that these schools are the forefront in the resistance.
I'm worried about the fact that the schools are losing teachers
because of a lot of safety reasons.
Everything going on with the surveillance and the military violence,
and the government oppression, such as literally criminalizing teaching Lumad kids.
[You could] be charged with "human trafficking"
or "child abuse"
because you were giving your time, and your resources, and energy to being present in a Lumad community
and participating in education.
And the ones who have sacrificed a lot and committed to this
are young, they're like [in their] twenties.
And it's no longer safe for them. Their lives are at risk if they continue to do that.
And it's hard for them to have to leave, you know, because they also are fulfilled by those schools
like I was fulfilled- that's the most fulfilled and connected
to this planet, and to humanity, and to myself ever- and to the present moment I've ever been.
I would never say that the Lumads aren't winning
because in so many ways they are.
And no matter what ever was to happen or not happen,
they still won in a lot of ways.
Because I think Indigineity always wins.
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