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It’s not the first time it’s happened. Many years ago, the Encyclopedia Britannica was alleged to have entered the word “Filipina” to mean a domestic or maid. That brought us bristling at the “contumely,” as one public official referred to it with proper British disdain. Everyone vied to express his outrage with such erudition as could be found only in, well, an encyclopedia, calling for the Encyclopedia Britannica to apologize posthaste. There was only one problem: The Britannica never did it.
The other “contumely” that had Filipinos, officials and citizens alike, up in arms was Claire Danes saying some nasty things about Manila. This time at least the reports were true. Danes appeared in Vogue after doing “Brokedown Palace” saying Manila was a “ghastly and weird city, (it) smelled of cockroaches, with rats all over, there is no sewage system, and the people do not have anything—no arms, no legs, no eyes.” An outcry ensued, Danes’ movies were banned in the Philippines, and Danes herself was declared persona non grata by newly elected President Erap. Danes later apologized.
Comes now Teri Hatcher’s apparent slight in the form of her character telling a doctor in “Desperate Housewives”: “OK, before we go any further, can I check those diplomas? Because I would just like to make sure they are not from some med school in the Philippines.”
That has raised the hackles of Filipino officials once again who have vied among themselves to show the most furious indignation. Bienvenido Abante, chair of the House committee on public information, wants the series banned from cable and free TV. Miriam Santiago wants Filipinos to stop watching it to bring it to its knees. I even heard one congressman on TV scoffing at the thought of an American TV show saying something like that when most Americans do not get to college while most Filipinos do.
The last we can safely dismiss, or beg the gentleman from wherever to do us a favor and not dredge up again. Hatcher might retort: “I rest my case.” Because if most Americans finish only high school and get to be where they are and most of us finish college and get to be only where we are, there must truly be something wrong with our colleges, never mind med schools.
My own reaction to all this is, well, my first one was to laugh out loud. Hatcher’s remark is funny, though the kind that hurts only when you laugh. It’s so because like the truly most laughable things on earth, it has much truth in it. Some of our text jokes are worse. But of course there’s an unwritten rule that says only Negroes may call each other “niggers.” When they do, it’s trash talk; when others do, it’s just trash. Or when they do, it’s banter; when others do, it’s suicide.
I do think Hatcher’s remark is not without its injurious aspects, and the Filipinos in the US in particular are right to protest it. It doesn’t just cast aspersion on—or worse doubts, which affect employment opportunities of—Filipino doctors, it does so on Filipino professionals generally. What applies to the diplomas of Filipino doctors applies as well to the diplomas of Filipino engineers, accountants and lawyers. Left unprotested, a single line like that in a hugely popular TV series can do more harm by the incalculable power of suggestion than whole reams or airtime of diatribe in a newspaper or talk show.
Having said that, I must also say that I find the violent reaction by our public officials in particular even more hilarious—and embarrassing—than the original offense.
At the very least, I don’t know that the fact isn’t more insulting than the fiction, the reality isn’t more insulting than the illusion. At least Hatcher’s quip proposes that Filipinos who graduate from Philippine medical schools get to work in the US as doctors. As we know very well, that isn’t true at all, not today, not anymore. As poignantly dramatized by the case of Elmer Jacinto who topped the medical board exams, Filipino doctors get to work only as nurses in the US. Indeed, as tragically dramatized still by Jacinto, they get to end up with legal hassles for contesting their contracts there.
Just as well, I don’t know that we can’t do with some serious self-examination and look at the quality not just of our education but our lives today. I myself found Danes’ description of Manila tremendously inspired. It’s brilliantly surreal: “The people have nothing—no arms, no legs, no eyes.” It’s almost like Dante talking about one of the circles of hell, to which, if we still have at least the eyes to see it, we now find ourselves in.
There are two ways to treat a messenger’s bad news. One is to shoot the messenger and hope the message goes away. Two is to change things so that there won’t be any bad news. Japan didn’t just do the second, it turned the bad news into good news. Shortly after the War, Americans also had a field day making fun of the label, “Made in Japan.” Today, well, Sony owns a great deal of Hollywood. We can either spend our time lodging diplomatic protests in defense of our diplomas or produce brilliant doctors. The choice is ours.
Finally, where in God’s name does Abante and Miriam get off bristling about an insult “Desperate Housewives” has inflicted on us when daily they inflict infinitely crueler insults on us in Congress? Between switching off “Desperate Housewives” and switching off Miriam (and “Here Comes Johnny Ponce Enrile”), Filipino viewers won’t agonize over their decision. Indeed, between banning “Desperate Housewives” and banning the Sona on grounds of cruel and unusual punishment, why don’t we make a plebiscite of that and find out?
Our national honor has been tarnished by people laughing at our diplomas? That’s a little, well, desperate.
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