Learning from history

Musing over the May elections, I’ve hoarded a lot of thoughts already. It would seem that these thoughts sprout from my coffee mug during holy hours at work. If these thoughts could all be tamed, I’d be writing a piece or two, trying hard to channel Conrado de Quiros. But I’m no De Quiros. I’m just a 22-year-old who speaks her mind from time to time, most conveniently in 140 characters, thanks to Wi-Fi.

Beyond the easy clicks to look up anything under the sun by means of Google, much is expected of us today, information-wise. Case in point: Some people will likely give you a stern stare if you try to explain why you didn’t know that the reproductive health bill has already been signed into law, or that a senatorial candidate recently made it to the trending world of social media, albeit in a bad light. One can’t get away with excuses such as “I’m not computer-savvy” or “I live under a rock” because TV and battery-operated radios are still around as we speak. And it goes without saying that we ought to care as a people.

During my college internship in 2010, after volunteering to take part in a campaign caravan for and with a presidential candidate, I went on a five-hour trip home to Mindanao as an eager first-time voter. I trusted that my right to suffrage was something that would matter. In fact, it did. But it didn’t offset the fact that other people’s votes based on imprudent judgment could prevail better.

I had claimed the 2010 elections to be just and fair, considering that the exercise was already automated, as it should have been many years ago. I could think of electoral fraud and sabotage blatantly practiced in remote barangays, but I chose not to trade my high hopes for the world. After all, citizen journalists, as we students were back then, and the public were making the most of the social media toward an improved election coverage that could reduce violence and dishonesty. Or was I being too optimistic?

Sure, the low-end technology that provides a venue for manipulation is not solely to be blamed. There’s a larger picture of people who, in one way or another, undermine their capability to think hard about their actions that could affect their future.

Of course, some political wannabes feed on dirty tactics and constantly promise the people some sort of abundance, and then dash their hopes. But how could I, then an awkward 19-year-old, be a bigger person than a veteran voter in our locality? I don’t know about your city’s version of politics, but in our place most voters have the guts to roll the dice aimlessly. Of course, if the game is anything with a sack of rice and whatnot as a jackpot prize…

Power and popularity are crucial factors that will bring aspiring candidates to their glorified seats. Yet what about the pure intention to serve?

Being true to my core values, particularly the dictates of my conscience, means much to me. Not only that, I think the easy-come-easy-go amount to buy my vote is an insult to my hard-earned education; it also won’t cover for the plane ticket I need to cast my ballot on May 13.

We need not operate on complicated logic. Perhaps a bit of research and participation in online and offline activities toward a better election process won’t hurt. We can save the shallow rants for our paperback journal, and use Facebook, Twitter, and blogs as platforms for communicating “change” responsibly.

This may come off as a played-out piece of advice, but still: Never get tired of looking forward to a transformed political landscape. We can’t be complacent that all of these “public servants” will actually do their tasks. To those who had put the wrong people in office, it isn’t too late. Learn from history and start again with a clean slate. Take one step at a time, but make it a bigger leap by voting… wisely.

Princess Dianne Kris S. Decierdo, 22, graduated from Silliman University in 2011 with a bachelor’s degree in mass communication.