Little girl

Little girl

run regally now

    like the black panthers of old

    inside their realm so mystical

    where kings reflect on things vital

    and where leaders get their fix so spiritual.

    But do not just follow the kings of old and new, 

    rather pave your own path

    and rule your own queendom

    as you rule over the course of your fate.

Little girl 

fly freely now

    like white clover heads 

    floating along hot summer air, 

    landing on sweaty little palms, 

    granting wishes youth whispers, 

    floating once more when prayers

    blow them softly back

    to the blue skies

    where wish-granting gods reside;

    to deliver the soft little prayers

    they carried off of sweaty little palms. 

    But do not just carry their prayers:

    rather take yours also with you

    as you soar to the blue skies

    where wish-granting gods reside. 

Little girl

grow gaily now

    like sunflowers shining brightly

    as the sun they look up to

    when they line up to welcome

    the wondrous exit of 

    scholars clad in green and red. 

    But do not just spectate, 

    rather be a part of that culture

    of victory amidst challenges,

    of caring despite knowing,

    of honor before excellence.

#

First Day Chronicles

First days had always been a struggle for me. 

When I was in kindergarten, the first day of school was scary as shit. It was the first time I am left alone with no one I know with me. I remember that I almost cried that day, but stopped myself when I saw another kid cry and it was really squeamish. 

Fourth grade. It was my first time enrolling in a public school. I think my mom laid me on a little bit too much to my teachers. The first day was particularly beleaguering. I kept feeling my adviser's eyes on me. I kind of felt like I had to be this perfect little private school-bred lady: quiet, prim, and proper. Which I am, on most levels, definitely NOT.

The first day in high school was a good blend of scary and enchanting (though mostly tipping on scary). I was so used to small buildings from my elementary school that the "towering" four-storey buildings felt suffocating, yet so captivating, as if my dreams of fairytale teenage life were just some winks away. Maybe I'll get bullied. Maybe a senior will take notice of me and be my knight in shining armor. Maybe not just one senior will take notice. Maybe a varsity player will make me his muse. Maybe I'll be this school's "it" girl. (For the record, only one of these maybe's happened: I got bullied. No senior, not even a batchmate, really took notice. Our school did not have a varsity team. I was borderline nerdy and sooo not "it" girl material. High school was in no way like the movies, to my imperceptible dismay.) Those dreams which, not even one day into high school, got shattered by me tripping over the metal drainage grates along the side of the gym what with my too big black leather shoes, and by me getting noticed all for unpleasant reasons what with my too big baggy shirt. It was quite telling of how chaotic my high school  life would somehow become.

Take the "scary and enchanting" bit of first day in high school and multiply that for about a thousand times. That was how the first day inside the university felt (again, tipping more on scary). It was not formal classes yet, just an orientation. And although I had one of my best high school buddies with me as a blockmate, I still wasn't able to shake that feeling of "littleness" (ironic, considering how tall I am). There was just something about the century-old, massive-land-area, country's top university in the heart of a bustling city that makes you feel severely insignificant despite all your earlier achievements. This feeling of insignificance was heightened even more during the first day of class. For the first time in my student life, I felt like I was the dumbest inside the classroom. Just my first university classmates' stances were enough for me to know that the honors I received prior to university are merely shams. No real bearing. No real worth.

The first day I stopped studying, I was like a ghost floating aimlessly. I had so many questions in mind which revolved into just a huge one: What the f-ck went wrong with me? 

The first day back to college, when I decided it's time to straighten the f-ck up, I was doubly awkward. It was like fourth grade all over again. Some professors knew I came from a premier university, so I felt their watchful eyes, bordering on judgment and amusement. I was already aboard a luxury ship, why descend to lowly bangka? Some classmates knew I came from a premier university, so I felt their even more watchful eyes. Why am I here? (Couple of months later, I learned that I wasn't alone: some classmates were in the same situation as I, which, honestly, made my transition to "doubly awkward" to "quite confident" smoother than I have imagined.)

The first day after college graduation was anxiety-inducing. It was the end of life as I knew it and the beginning of life as I'll know it. I am no longer merely a student. I'll be part of a workforce. I'll be an adult really acting as an adult. While employment after graduation wasn't really of question (I was hired weeks prior), the thought of meeting another set of people to come to terms with once again scared me.

Dangerously treading on hypocrisy, I guess, started on the first day of my first job. This was the first time I had attended something deeply religious for years. Deep in my heart, I knew, how I felt during this particular first day foreshadowed how my sojourn there generally went about: light-hearted doused with pretense.

The first day of the community quarantine was the start of five months — probably more? I stopped counting — of uncertainty. While it almost coincided with my most awaited end of contract, I did not picture it the way it unfolded. I had already imagined how I would say goodbye to my lovely students, how I would say sorry if I was not as loving and guiding towards them as I would have wanted to be, how I would tell them that I'd really appreciate it if they'll choose to let me stay in their hearts even a little bit more than the school year. Alas, COVID ruined that. As I don't really do well in impersonal goodbyes, I felt like I'll never be able to move on from something that I have not literally waved goodbye to.

Now, it is my first day as a public school teacher. It is extremely different with how I had imagined it to be when I passed the board exam. COVID prompted all schools to delay the start of classes, as well as to utilize a skeletal workforce. The prospect of me being the only new teacher at this school is terrifying. The fact that I am away from people I am already comfortable being with makes this first day despairing. The nearly-empty corridors make this first day even scarier than all the other first days I had so far. I am lost yet I have exactly no one and everyone to guide me. I am lonely yet I have exactly no one and everyone to be with me. 

First days have always been a struggle for me.

#

Mulan turns to an unwarranted Magyo

Okay, that title was cringy at best, but hear me: animated Mulan was rainshowers in the dry season, live-action Mulan is the storm that pulls the southwest monsoon.

If only Liu Yifei's heart is as perfect as Mulan's hair in combat. 

***SPOILERS AHEAD***

MULAN (2020): THE MOVIE

I wanted to view the live-action Mulan (2020) as a film independent of its animated predecessor Mulan (1998). But alas, that proved to be an impossible feat. I was not even halfway through the live-action film when I caught myself thinking, "I kind of like this Mulan better."
 
In the past few years, Disney has been trying, and most recently failing, to adapt their classic animated movies into live-action. We, the generations who grew up with Disney classics, would get excited of course. But the last few projects were not enchanting enough to capture the magic that made our collective childhoods Disney-fied (oh hello, Aladdin and the most heart-breaking averageness that was Lion King). With these projects came the fear from Mulan fans that the live-action version is just another soulless cash-grabbing scheme of Disney preying on our childhood nostalgia.
 
I think, we could have not been more wrong.
 

Yup, probably would believe you whole-heartedly if only you weren't so pro-CCP.

Director Niki Caro treated Mulan the way she deserved to be treated. The live-action take on the Chinese classic was thrilling all the way from start to finish. While the animated version struggled to completely capture the Chinese traditional cultural settings and details, the live-action reveled in it. That is not to say that the new Mulan was too traditional: the display of astounding special effects and state-of-the-art action sequences with intricately choreographed martial arts battles and horse stunts screams of modern tropes of cinema. The casting was perfect, the cinematography was astounding, the distinctiveness of the film from the animated version was on point.

The film's heroine is much like the movie itself. Most of us probably grew up to believe that most of Disney animated classics’ magic lies in the incorporation of the enchanting songs that we could repeatedly sing-along with. Overly faithful adaptations has been quite the norm for animated-to-live-action Disney projects, and quite honestly, that did not bode well for Aladdin and Lion King. Expectedly, many animated Mulan fans would probably be looking for the beloved songs I’ll Make a Man out of You, or A Girl Worth Fighting For, or Reflection within the live-action movie. However, Caro’s decision to not include singing parts in the movie was tantamount to Mulan forging her own path despite heavy social norms. As a “shout out” to this norm though, the film cleverly used recognizable melodies (like Honor to Us All in the matchmaker scene and Reflection in the Mulan-connects-to-her-chi montage), and memorable lines (“We're going to make men out of every single one of you” and “I don’t care what she looks like, I care what she cooks like!”).

In addition to the omission of musical numbers, Caro’s careful take on scenes involving traditional Chinese culture was respectful of the primary source material (perhaps too respectful – more on that later). Hollywood, when making commercial movies based on any Asian heritage, tend to create overly comical characters and scenes that are borderline racist and are too westernized. This Mulan however, remains heavily grounded on Chinese folklore and tradition. Caro and her team did an exceptional job showing Chinese culture with elaborate sets, gorgeous costumes, and thoughtful principles – no wisecracking little dragons, and no coward of an emperor. The presentation of loyal, brave, true, and devotion to family also represent the long-time values of China’s people.

Another “breaking away from norm” Caro did for the movie was the non-inclusion of a conclusive love story. In the beloved (albeit imperfect) animated classic, Li Shang, the commander, served as Mulan’s love interest – even appearing towards the end at the Hua residence for “dinner”. This was a particularly ground-breaking at that time due to the bisexuality of Li Shang’s character. Li Shang was first intimately attracted to Mulan as a man, not to her in full blossom as a woman. This was hinted in several blink-and-you’ll-miss-it scenes. In Caro’s Mulan though, the commander was not Mulan’s love interest (to avoid#MeToo repercussions), rather it was Honghui, a fellow soldier and Mulan’s equal. In the movie though, it was quite evident that Honghui saw Mulan as someone no more than a fellow soldier while she was still Hua Jun (“How could I even begin to talk to a woman?” while talking to Hua Jun). It was only when Mulan revealed her true self that Honghui had hinted of being attracted to her (“You wouldn’t even hold my hand?”). And even then, Honghui did not even follow Mulan home the way Li Shang did in the animated classic. Honghui just watched her go, killing any hopes for a definite love story. While this is empowering to female viewers (hey, we don’t need any man!), it somehow does the bisexual community a disservice (more on this later).

Probably the closest to "romantic gaze" in the movie before Mulan reveals her true self.

MULAN (2020): THE CCP PROPAGANDA

Let's face it though, the new Mulan movie has huge undertones of Chinese Communist Party propaganda. Disney became an ass-kisser to China just to push this movie through (didn't pay them off well though, also, China had just banned all media coverage on Mulan, making it more difficult to gain publicity in the country).

Here are several points as to why Mulan was a big CCP ass-kissing propaganda:

• Lead actress Liu Yifei voiced support for Hong Kong’s police force, despite the latter being under fire for police brutality against protesters. Similarly, other Chinese celebrities (including Donnie Yen, who plays general here) remained either celebratory or nonchalant of the “achievements” of the Chines Communist Party.
• The film’s ravishing landscapes were shot in Xinjiang, a region in China where more than a million Muslims in Xinjiang, mostly of the Uighur minority, have been imprisoned in concentration camps, and where genocide through forced sterilization is currently implemented intended to prevent births within the Muslim group. Disney thanking the government departments that carry out these atrocities in the closing credits did not help with the film’s reputation.
• The emperor in the new Mulan is powerful and a chi-master, as compared to the animated version who was old and weak. This could be read as a symbol of China’s power. China now holds power, as opposed to previously-held assumptions that the country was weak and poor. Portraying the symbol of the dynasty in a more powerful personality is just about tantamount to Disney saying China is a force to be reckoned with. Furthermore, Mulan's over-loyalty to the emperor despite given a choice to make her own name in her own terms mirrors the Chinese celebrities being overly loyal to the CCP despite gaining substantial fame overseas.

"I can chi my way to safety, too, you know."

• Censorship deprived us of a love story in the camps, as well as the bisexual undertones of that relationship. Reports say that there should have been a kiss scene between Mulan and Honghui, but it did not go down well with Chinese authorities. Since Disney had to kiss asses to have the film push through for Chinese audience, they did not include the scene in the final cut.

MULAN (2020): WILL IT BE WORTH YOUR TIME?

Like I said in the beginning of my post, animated Mulan was rainshowers in the dry season, live-action Mulan is the storm that pulls the southwest monsoon.

Yes, live-action Mulan is a stronger film for me compared to the animated version. But the thing is, the animated version, albeit weaker, was needed at that time. Sure some elements of it did not age well (Mulan and Shang love story?), but at that time we kind of needed Disney to give us an Asian heroine. The live-action, though strong in cinematic qualities, is something no one really needed, especially with all the issues connected with it. It is strong, but futile, and is only potentially damaging to the image of Disney itself.

Will you miss much if you do not watch it? I don't really think so. But if you have time to spare, and I mean reaaaally to spare, use that to watch it if only for the spectacle that director Caro had prepared. Just keep in mind that the art is a separate element from all the actors/artists and production company involved, and you'll probably be good to go.

Also, I think if you're going to watch it, torrents will be your best friend.

#

Ode to the old

I walk with you arm-in-arm

like I used to

when I was young. 

I walk with you arm-in-arm 

as we go towards

the narrow white corridors, 

with marble-tiled floors, 

and "the doctor is in" doors. 

 

I walked with you arm-in-arm 

and back then I felt

your skin tight, yet lined

with the labors you had had;

your arms strong and stable

as you carried me over the flood

so my black leather shoes won't sop. 

 

I walk with you arm-in-arm 

and now I feel

as if your very skin

is gradually melting,

gradually softening

gradually sliding off your bones;

as if the lines that were

your battle scars

are fading like spider webs

pulled away too far;

as if the flood

anytime now could

wash you away from me, 

from everyone you love, 

from the world. 

 

I am not ready for that. 

 

I am not ready

because in my mind

yours are still the arms

that carried me over the flood

so my black leather shoes won’t sop;

yours are still the arms

that hauled my heavy bags

when they were too hefty to lug;

yours are still the arms

that I clung to the first second

I tried to swim, tried to stay afloat;

yours are still the arms

that carried me gently to bed

after I fell asleep learning my numbers;

yours are still the arms

that I hugged for the afternoon naps

and golden evening slumbers;

and

yours are still the arms

that I dearly treasure

even if I rarely

get to hold to them anymore.

 

Now

I walk with you arm-in-arm

in silence

and in dubious nonchalance

that all still could be well

even as for your fading health

I guess, now, only time can tell.

#

You, young one

Hey.

I saw you change your profile and cover photos on Facebook. Does it mean there's something new in your life you'll be venturing in? Or are you just sharing an old passion to everyone when you used to be too shy to show it? 

Don't get me wrong, I am not stalking you. Your profile updates just passed by my newsfeed. I didn't even bother to react to it when I saw it, as I was always wont to do when I see posts that speak to me (I'm a reactor, you see). 

But some things hit me just a little bit late. 

I don't know how, probably half a day after I saw your updates, it got me smiling. Real smiling. Maybe it's because I have seen you rendered voiceless when you were forced to sing in front of hundreds. Maybe it's because I have heard you stutter when you were confronted by people you fear. Maybe it's because I have seen you cry and be vulnerable with your closest buddies. Maybe it's because I have seen you timidly cover your face with your hand when you have to face people. Or maybe you got me wishing I was like you.

You see, when I was your age, I never had the talent that you have: I cannot draw, I cannot sing, and for the love of God, I cannot play any instrument. When I was your age, I never had the fashion sense that you have: shirts and jeans were my only life. When I was your age, I never had the aesthetic appreciation that you have. When I was your age, I never had the sense of individuality that you have oozing out of you, despite that surface introversion. 

Yet here you are right now, on the brink of doing things I only wish I could have done when I was your age. Funny how the young often makes the old realize how their youth had un-satisfyingly gone by, eh? (Yes, at 27, I funnily feel old, dear.)

Whatever it is you desire to be, I only have one wish for you and all the other students I have loved and will still love, that is, I wish you do not waste your youth. I never want you to grow old and look back at your life with so many what-ifs and unfulfilled wishes. 

Keep doing what your heart desires, so long as you're not breaking any rules. Keep loving, keep hurting, keep feeling. Keep singing, at the top of your lungs, the tunes of youthful exuberance. Keep strumming the chords of youthful melancholia, never mind the calloused fingers it may cause. Keep dressing in youthful colors, no matter how rainbow-ish you might look. Keep your artfulness. Keep your music. And keep being just you.

I will just be here, at a distance in space and probably in time, proud of what an inspiring individual you have set yourself to become.

Always here, 

Ma'am Bern 💗

#