Saturday, February 4
Shadow

Tag: Denouement

The Blame Game

The Blame Game

Perspectives
WHENEVER I get catcalled, I would either (1) keep on walking as if I hadn’t been harassed, (2) look the offender in the eye with the hope of catching him off-guard, or (3) actually stop and call the offender off for thinking that proudly calling me “baby” with a nasty smile on his face would strengthen his fragile male ego. Normally, I would go for option 3 simply because I want to make them feel that I am a strong woman who would not take any sort of bullying and harassment even if my appearance does not look like it. But here’s the truth: I don’t feel empowered after answering these thugs back. I don’t think, “That’ll show him not to mess with women like me.” Instead, my chest would start hurting, and I’d think, “What if he runs after me? What if he waits for me later at ni...
We’re Not What You Think

We’re Not What You Think

Perspectives
NO, REALLY, we’re not. Although the Merriam-Webster dictionary defines the word “millennial” as “a person born in the 1980s or 1990s,” or those between the ages 17 and 36, it could mean so much more for different people. A few months ago, Rappler asked the Twitterverse what word often comes to mind when they hear “millennial.” A few lashed out by answering, “entitled,” “ignorant,” or “outrageous.” Some, on the other hand, tweeted back with “misunderstood,” “empowered,” or “unpredictable.” But what exactly were the factors that led netizens from different generations to simplifying millennials into such words? First, the negatives. The generation of the millennials lived their childhood, adolescence, and adult years quite differently as compared to the “baby boomers” and “...
Getting Away With Catcalling

Getting Away With Catcalling

Perspectives
AFTER VISITING my dog at the hospital, I had to rush to UST for a 3 p.m. meeting. I chose to board an FX going to Morayta and sat beside the driver because what could go wrong with having fewer seats to fill and decent air conditioning? Apparently, a lot. The driver, who introduced himself as “Jason,” decided to forcibly dig deep into my personal life, had the guts to ask my number and warn me that he’d be waiting for me along Quezon Avenue and be “more than happy” to have me as his passenger again. I could only nod and smile and by the time I got off at P. Noval, I was shaking. This is the type of harassment that haunts me every day, even when all I want to do is get to my destination and walk the streets with nothing to worry about. And when I was about to go to bed and I saw...