If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories?
- J. EDWARD CHAMBERLIN
There is very little we know about ourselves in spite of the years and years of formal education we are compelled to accomplish... but ever so rarely, a moment comes when the horizon suddenly explodes into wide view for just a split second... and we are forever transformed by what greatness we see and what little we remember.
For me, this experience was not a first in its valuable components, but it was certainly a first in its combination. I have been an Indigenous Peoples' Rights Advocate for about five years now and an artist for much, much longer than that... but I never really had these two separate worlds fuse into a beautiful mesh of philosophical possibilities (this only goes to show how little we do with even the things we think we understand).
When you talk about Indigenous Peoples' Rights, one word immediately comes to mind: LAND. After that, everything else becomes a blur, an afterthought, a collateral matter. I fell into that same trap and found myself deprived of a wider area of understanding where I could have given more of myself. After all, what is land without the beliefs, the creations, the art, the epic tales, the science, the survival, the artifacts, the crafts and all that is produced by the minds of the dwellers of that land?
Human communities will never be limited to the physical act of building houses, planting crops and hunting game... All these things acquire meaning... all these things are jealously inseparable from human imagination. In every society, no matter how ancient, there will always a wealth of creativity... from the artisan, the alchemist, the healer, the inventor, the craftsman, the musician, the poet, the merchant, the weapon-smith, the carpenter, the builder, and even the town crier.
The sun and the stars will never be just balls of flaming gas, but bodies that aid people in navigating through treacherous waters and explaining personalities, behavior and cosmic events... the land will never be just dirt, bugs, and roots but a sacred source of life, healing, and stability. Modern societies and religions reject these notions as "superstitious beliefs" and "heresies"... but today, in this chapter of global decay, this ancient wisdom and affinity to nature just might be what will save the human race.
Makes me think how ignorant we really are today.
When I entered IP Philippines to work, I feared one thing: that my advocacy for human rights would be in peril... that it would be just a pleasant memory (if not the only one) from my days as a law student. I tried to rationalize this by demonstrating that intellectual property is a human right (a fact that I think I proved in my graduate thesis... but was actually more of an attempt to convince myself). Then comes this opportunity... this gap in legal and philosophical understanding that allowed two of my great passions to step in together and shake my imagination.
I was humbled during these few days in Capiz... I was humbled by the T'boli weavers and musicians... by the Ati alchemists and the healers... by the Kalinga builders and percussionists. For these people, art and science have always been a part of life... not just source of cheap thrills. Everything I saw was celebration of hundreds of years of the diversity and unity of what we now know as the Filipino.
After the reflection, comes the resolve. What I do with what I know must protect human creation... not only that which is new... but also the creativity that has been part of our history and heritage. We are who we are today because of these things... and only by looking back at them can we find a way to deeply know ourselves.
In the end, I had to step out of lawyer-mode to become part of the entire human experience of pure imagination. Doubts were kicked aside and disbelief was suspended. What I found humbled me and humbled me again as it expanded my mind further (and this didn't even involve Peyote).
Now it's time to come home, knowing that I am mounds richer today than I was a week ago. Thank you, Capiz.
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