Dear Sir

I thought of posting the comment I wrote on Dr. Butch Dalisay's September 29 blog post, since I haven't really written anything "substantial" recently. At times, all we need is to come across an intelligent, well-written piece to get the wheels in our minds to turn (I could hear the rust of the iron wheels in my mind as they actually began creaking as I read "Barrack's America").


Hi, Sir. I remember my English 42 class well, even though it's been 10 years since I had it (you were my professor, and I was mighty proud to be in your class). I can still hear your booming voice and the distinctly "American" way you'd pronounce my supposedly French name the few times I was actually brave enough to speak in class; smell the old wood of which the chairs were made; picture the green of the trees visible from my seat by the window.

So much for waxing nostalgic. Truth is, I brag about having been your student once to anyone who's actually interested, and I was delighted to read this post, what with the mention of the titles of the stories and poems we once discussed in class.

I am presently working for an American company, my job description being in no way connected to Literature, I am sad to say. The interesting part, however, is that my having read American authors has helped me a lot in understanding the sensibilities of the Americans I work and regularly interact with. Funny how the demystification of a seemingly complex culture could come about so easily when one has been to "that place," if only it be through the workings of the written word. Watching the American-Iraq war would always brings to my mind scenes from Tim O' Brien's THE THINGS THEY CARRIED. "The Lottery" continually reminds me that America is not at all the glamourous world that Hollywood paints it to be (not all of it, that is).

I, too, am rooting for Obama. And I know that now, more than ever, he has a chance at victory, what with the evolution that America has undergone, the milestones its people has crossed in terms of looking deeper than skin-deep, since that historic day Rosa Parks refused to budge from her seat in the bus, since the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., since Leroi Jones changed his name to Imamu Amiri Baraka (so close to Obama's name, I must say).

I do not pretend to be an expert on American culture, or any foreign culture, for that matter--far, far from it. And so I am counting on the books on my shelf waiting to be read to educate me on the text that is the world--the same teachers I counted on when I was a student in my Literature classes.


*Pardon the grammatical errors and mistakes in punctuation. I thought of posting the comment here exactly as it was. Imagine my horror when I spotted the slips after it was published. Oh, the pressure of having the audacity to write comments on established writers'--and English professors'--blogs!