Resist much, obey little

MANILA, Philippines -There was apprehension in the air. I could tell.

“What is this for again?” one of them asked me, eyeing the others discreetly.

I had an answer—I did—but I just didn’t know how to say it. There was no need for Holmesian deduction skills to figure out that I had never faced a more disjointed tea party. After all, what in the world would a student activist, an accessory designer, and a taekwondo fighter have in common?

Nothing.

Or perhaps everything. At the ages of 18 to 22, these barely legal folks are challenging something big, something with more longevity and influence than Oprah Winfrey: tradition.

Considering that we are at an age when everybody tries to be somebody, it makes me curious to know what got Lawrence Co, Paul Jatayna and Maika Mora to go against the grain and say that students shouldn’t be pacified, jewelry doesn’t always have to sparkle, and girls aren’t always in the kitchen.

“I actually started in high school,” student and activist Lawrence explains. “Some students were suspended by the principal because they blogged against the school.”

Tea time: What in the world would a student activist, an accessory designer, and a taekwondo fighter have in common? Nothing, and perhaps, everything.

Lawrence at the time was president of the student council, and felt that the oppression of the students’ freedom of speech was well worth the threat of not being granted his high school diploma.

He and his fellow students eventually made enough noise for the national press to take note, and the administration eventually reversed the suspension. Even as a senior at the University of the Philippines-Diliman, Lawrence continues to fight for political and social awareness.

“Grabe talaga yung passion mo, no? I can feel it,” says Paul, after Lawrence goes on to explain how his activism extends from issues to education to agrarian reform.

But Paul doesn’t seem to be lacking in passion for his own craft. After expressing disappointment at how retails shops in the country can’t seem to cater to his taste, Paul is now the co-owner of OS Accessories, which is gaining clout for its avant-garde polyurethane bone pieces.

Lovely bones: “We stick to an independent fashion underground,” Paul Jatayna, co-owner of OS Accessories. “It’s really for art’s sake.”

At our meeting, he is wearing his products like a second skin and is hesitant to let on about the success of the brand, despite being stocked in Tokyo, Taipei, and New York, which just happens to be some of the most cosmopolitan cities today.

He even shrugs at the mention of Rihanna purchasing on one of their pieces from one of their consigners in Japan. “We stick to an independent fashion underground,” Paul says. “It’s really for art’s sake.”

Even Maika, a girl who one would more easily imagine hording skater dresses at Forever 21 than sporting a necklace inspired by the human spine is visibly intrigued. “Your store offers free shipping?” she asks him. “Wow, that’s cool.”

It is during these moments that the group seems to neglect the fact that Maika is in her black belt Taekwondo oufit, an explicit badge of her combating strength. The contrast between her elfin features and her tough uniform reminds Paul of Chloë Moretz in the film Kick Ass.

The reference makes Maika laugh. “They tell me that when I play (taekwondo), I play like a guy,” Maika says, who thanks her uncle Monsour Del Rosario for introducing her to the sport.

While she admits to being “very girly,” Maika doesn’t really experience any prejudice against her choice of sport as well as her gender. “You don’t get that (reaction) as much as before,” she says. “(But others say) stop taekwondo nalang, sayang. Sometimes they don’t understand that it’s really my passion.”

Paul admits to encountering the same cool acceptance to his work. “Ang dami kong pinatunayan (I had to prove a lot),” he says. “People didn’t think it would be a moneymaking thing. At first my parents thought ‘Magbebenta ka ng buto, ang mahal-mahal pa (You’re going to sell bones and yet they’re so expensive).’”

Even Lawrence experiences the stigma of being an activist despite its consistently changing definition. “Mayroon pa rin siyang negative connotations…(kasi) iniisip ng tao, activist ka lang. Hindi siya bumubuo sa pagkatao mo eh. (There are still negative connotations. People think, oh you’re an activist. That doesn’t mean that’s your whole person.)”

Still, it seems that any pessimism from outside perspectives doesn’t deter them from doing what they love doing. Aside from being a member of the taekwondo varsity team at De La Salle-College of Saint Benilde, Maika is also a member of the sport’s national Team. From having a small enterprise composed of just him and partner AJ Omandac, OS Accessories is now expanding to creating furniture and apparel. One of Lawrence’s most memorable social activism accomplishments was being part of the students who successfully protested against the 833 percent tuition fee increase at the Polytechnic University of the Philippines.

What could possibly explain such determination? Lawrence says, which the rest of the group agrees to, “If you really want to do something, push it. Don’t do things half-heartedly.”

The social atmosphere has changed, with the group considerably warming up to each other after the brief dialogue. They were now on their respective phones, plotting out the rest of their day. The tea party was over.

Now with the diversity of their interests lay bare for each of them to examine, it looks like the only thing the obvious disconnection did was to prove itself wrong. Maybe they weren’t doing anything particularly extraordinary. Maybe they were. It didn’t seem to matter to them. They did it anyway.