DivingBoard

Today marks the 25th anniversary of the People Power Revolution in Edsa in 1986. I was 6 years old then, and while I didn't know all the details, I remember having the acute awareness that something big was happening. As my parents stayed home from work often glued to the television, save for the military helicopters flying overhead every few minutes, the world around me---usually bustling with the roars of tricycles, jeeps and people passing by---was still. Of course, in Edsa, just a few miles from our house, the people were in the middle of a revolt against  Marcos and his regime, a man who, just like other dictators, began with such promise after winning a democratic election. After more than 20 years in office, rampant corruption, 10 years of martial law, the disappearance and death of his detractors, including then senator Ninoy Aquino, and the embezzlement of millions of the people's money, the nation had had enough and in a shining moment moved in unison and enacted a peaceful revolution. "Laban!" was the battle cry, and as Filipinos are no strangers to struggle, "Fight!" they did.

Today, Filipinos commemorate that moment in our history where the masses reclaimed the stage and chose to exercise hope in the face of tanks and armed men. While I may only remember that day as a feeling, the stillness before the upheaval, what I do remember is the violence that came after the peace, and the restoration of the status quo after what was supposed to be a sea change. Cory Aquino, for all her symbolic power being the wife of Ninoy, was brought back down to humanity and at the end of the day, she was not equipped to handle a nation who was always already ripped at the seams. I remember the bloody coup d'etats for each year she was in office, which too marked the next six years of my childhood before coming to the United States. After one shining moment when, just as Fanon described, the people occupied the zone of occult instability and reached into the light, we were once again propelled into the shadows. It seems that it takes more than the promise of hope to run a nation.

Today, I too remember the People Power Revolution in 1986, especially as people take the streets in Tunisia, Egypt, Bahrain, Libya, Yemen, Algeria and elsewhere. I remember it not merely to recognize its eventual failure, but as a moment when hope for the better, hope for the future and hope for oneself rang louder than any demonstration of violence and repression. It is a hope that I think can still exact lasting change, because to endure the alternative is far worse. I vehemently believe in this kind of revolution because amidst the barrage of violence we endure in our daily lives, this is the kind of hope that moves mountains. So I remain hopeful, in solidarity with those who fought then and those who are fighting now, that things can change.