Death and Freedom in February
I’ve been teaching Creative Writing in the Maximum Security Prison in Muntinlupa since July 2007. Among my students are inmates of Building 1. Building 1 used to be called the ‘death row’ until the death penalty was repealed in 2006. Two days ago an inmate from my class came up to me and whispered that he was going to give me something at the end of the class. I nodded at him thinking it was either a note, a small gift (for they are thoughtful like that every now and then) or maybe a request for help for medical assistance. To my surprise, he handed me three yellowed, torn and stained sheets of paper. He whispered that those were his notes from February 5, 1999.
The significance of what he said didn’t strike me until I realized it was his journal entry from the day someone from his building, from 5 cells down the hall, was executed.
-end of journal entry post-
Last October, while discussing the death penalty with my class, I decided to ask a couple of former death row inmates if they remember the day the law was repealed. They described how they felt when they realized they will no longer be executed but their sentences changed to reclusion perpetua instead. (WATCH VIDEO HERE)
Many have asked me about my stand on the death penalty and I noticed that my answer changes depending on the time I am asked. My answer varies, too, depending on the crime and the accused involved. But certainly this is not justice.
If you ask me today, I still don’t think it should be restored – not while our law enforcement is so wanting, our investigation and evidence-gathering so unscientific, our methods for extracting confessions questionable, our courts so flawed, we can’t afford it yet.
I am involved in some of the work of the legal communtiy who pushed against the death penalty, I have a good friend who was murdered – so if you had asked me around the time of his murder, I’d have said yes to the death penalty. But – I have longtime students who have murdered, raped, carjacked, dealt drugs, stole and damaged both people and property and I am witness to their sincere effort to eke out a new existence even while inside prison. I am their teacher and I have read their writing. So if you ask me again, my answer is no. I feel fortunate to have the opportunity to explore this issue from many vantage points.
So if you ask me today, my answer is no.
I suppose it was fitting for me to post this on the 25th anniversary of the EDSA revolution as it serves as an analogy to those days. While we may have escaped the death of our democracy, 25 years after – we realize that we are still imprisoned and struggling still – to be free. I suppose those days were a matter of life and death for many, also ~ from all sides.
Today, I am thinking of choices and freedom instead.
25 Feb 2011
Rock Ed Philippines
***I was teary eyed reading the memoirs. The gravity of emotions are not based in the intricate flowery modifiers, nor within some symbolic metaphors. The sheer transparency of simple words touched my heart as I was reading this honest narrative. The piece is poetic in nature: its simplicity reveals a yet another dimension on the thin line between life and death. It is indeed a wake-up call for us who waste time sitting in front of our computer, lambasting people here and there, and involving in some facets of corruption.
The memoir is more than a perspective on death penalty. This memoir is an expression itself-- unafraid yet all the while sincere.
This blog post adds another meaning to what happened 25 years ago along the then Highway 54. Our parents-- the precious generation-- fought for the freedom of our country from the cruel corrupting hands of a dictator, and collectively while peacefully, they have passed down to us the freedom to express ourselves without fear of having persecuted. But then again, this people behind bars, who most of them had suffered the consequences of their crimes (or in some cases, suffered the consequences of their alleged crimes), have repented and are wanting to start a clean slate to the world, struggle for their own freedom. This brings a new perspective to EDSA- we struggle for own freedom-- literally or symbolically.