Walk in her shoes

I would hate to be in her shoes, I mutter to myself. I remember her from way back when we were young. She was in Assumption when I was in Maryknoll. When she caught the eye of that young, clean-cut mestizo heartthrob Mike Arroyo, everyone wondered what he saw in her. This is the story of her life. Then and now, because they could not come up with answers – most likely because they don’t delve deeply enough – people focused on the obvious, how she looked, talked, what she wore. I did that, too, because it isn’t easy to pierce her shell. She has one. You can almost feel it. Sometimes, I suspect it might be well-concealed shyness.

Time flew, we were professionals. She was the guest speaker at an advertising industry event. At that time, we were hot and bothered about a tax bill. We thought she was sympathetic to our cause, but earlier that day, she had just switched political parties and so she blithely announced, "This morning, when I was a member of that party, I would have said . . . but now in the opposite camp, I’m going to have to take the opposite stance. . ." I didn’t find that amusing. That’s why I’m not in politics.

Then she was running for Vice President. A famous columnist, who was an ardent supporter, tried to solicit my support. I politely turned him down. "I thought you would be for her because she’s a professional like you," he said. "Not quite. I would never agree to being billed as a Nora Aunor look-alike just to win votes," I said, not understanding how an intelligent woman like her could agree to becoming a political Barbie doll. It seemed to me then that she changed selves. National costume, a sheaf of palay, look, it’s Gloriang Magsasaka! A single red rose, look, guess who? These were her campaign posters then.

Nevertheless, history would have its way. She was elected Vice President, garnering more votes than any of the other presidential candidates. Then, the same cruel twist of fate that bound her to Joseph Estrada unbound him. She became President. Once again, a fashion show — Inang Bayan, Labandera. Come on, I thought, not even a labandera wants another labandera to become president. Serious leadership, that’s what we need.

In the beginning, she fluttered and fell like a starling. Then, almost imperceptibly, things began to change. She said she wasn’t running again. That statement seemed to release her. She packed the part of herself that had to play party politics and banished it to the back of the closet. She burned the costumes, then very quietly slipped into leadership, statesmanship. I think a major shift took place in her perception of herself. Consequently, she came into her own as a leader fashioned in her own style, out to do what she believed right, no longer the political animal out to please constituents.

Through the Oakwood incident, I watched her, a tiny beleaguered woman who looked like she hadn’t slept all Saturday night. Unlike the rest of us, she had a State of the Nation address to deliver in less than 48 hours. She would have to speak about these unfolding events. Her speech would have to be rewritten and rehearsed but first, she had to settle this rebellion, make decisions, focus, listen, balance every interest against the common good. Like Scarlett O’Hara, she must have said, "Later, I will worry about the speech later. Now I must worry about the rebels, the bombs, what I feel is right, the things that could go wrong as the hours mercilessly march on."

Nineteen hours before her State of the Nation Address (SONA), she approaches the lectern looking light and puffy. Maybe she has managed a well-deserved nap. Just before, she speaks a flash of recognition. I think she sees someone close to her. For that person, she raises her arms in a spontaneous triumphant gesture and grins. Suddenly, I remember something someone said about Georgia O’Keefe, "When Georgia smiles, the earth breaks open." Gloria smiled and for a brief instant, the earth broke open and the real Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo shone through. There she stood taking a moment to celebrate another dragon slain. It lasted a split second. Then, she stepped up to the mike and froze once more. The shell came down and dimmed her light. Yes, it must be shyness.

I am smiling, sharing her moment, happy for her, relieved with her, proud of her, proud with her. This isn’t the Gloria at EDSA, not the Gloria after the May 1 uprising. This is an evolved, confident Gloria, President of the Republic. She has slain many dragons in these few years. Maybe like in the myths of old, she drank their blood and drew their spirit and strength into her. She takes short breaks between dragons. An idle thought floats by: Why are there no attempted coups when the President is male? Are these rebellious soldiers little boys throwing tantrums to get Mommy’s attention?

No one was going to miss the SONA. Even friends abroad watched and sent comment: "Someone should help her with her delivery." I responded, "She’s from Assumption. That’s their style. They emote. Cory Aquino was the same. GMA had less than 24 hours to revise, rehearse and deliver and she didn’t have enough sleep. Could you have done better?" I am reminded of someone who came to see my pond, teeming with hundreds of fish. Immediately she said, "That one is dead." Hundreds of lovely, lively fish and she focused on one she decided was dead. It wasn’t. The fish was alive, but she was Filipino. She had to focus on the one small flaw.

It must have taken major courage to go up there in that awful terno and face the world knowing that as you delivered your speech people were finding fault.  Nevertheless, she did it because it was part of being President of a Challenged Republic and once again she did not flinch.

From another friend, "She needs to be made over to look like a forceful leader rather than a typical Filipino matron at a party." In our national costume, we all look like social butterflies, and we always look like Filipino matrons at a party. It’s the way we are. Who are we supposed to look like – Hillary Clinton? Maggie Thatcher? Princess Di? Can’t we just be ourselves?

And then I understand. In the beginning, Gloria tried so hard to please everyone from all walks of life, hence, the fashion show – Nora Aunor, Inang Bayan, Labandera. Now, at last, she is being herself. More and more we catch glimpses of it and we like the authenticity. This alarms her critics who now are trying doubly hard to discredit her. She is not perfect, no one is but daily, she courageously walks the path we assigned to her and does her best to keep this country, hell-bent on dragging her to destruction, on track. Some days, she is more successful than others but she works very hard and she doesn’t give up. She has to be admired for that.

I watch Gloria. I listen to the buzz. My heart goes out to her. I am glad she is our President. She carries her position bravely. I don’t know who else could walk in her in those determined shoes.

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