Ending a year with three stories
Most, if not everyone, in the news department would loathe the idea of producing a year-end special recapitulating major events that transpired throughout the year. Not only does poring through every news item for the past 12 months, choosing the highlights, and cramping everything in an hour-long piece take a lot of effort, but the production timeline itself also eats up the days leading to Christmas and the rest of the holiday break.
Like any other documentary, a year-ender requires hard work — yet it also demands a bit more self-sacrifice.
I consider it a pleasure and a privilege to be working on year-end documentaries though. The project presents an opportunity to remind the public what, among a plethora of news stories, matter, and, despite the limited air time, to provide a deeper context on why these matter and how they affect us.
The general mood of the past week called for introspection. Finally being on a few days’ break from work, I pondered over what to make of this outrageously looooong year. Too many things happened in 2019 — both in matters of national and international affairs as well as of personal concerns — the latter, a story I’d probably write later.
Allow me to discuss three stories that I deem to be the most memorable in 2019.
Halalan 2019
Conventional wisdom dictates that midterm polls are a “referendum” to how the incumbent president is faring. Administration-backed candidates winning the elections is generally seen as a testament to how the public agrees with the overall tenor of the state of political affairs.
However, Ronald Mendoza, dean of the Ateneo School of Government, viewed the midterm poll results differently because, he said, political alliances are not founded on solid ideals and push for reforms.
“After the elections, akala nung marami, ito ay isang senyales na napakalakas ng administrasyon. Ang tingin ko, lumalabas lang talaga ‘yung tunay na kulay ng administrasyon na medyo transactional ‘yung ibang arrangements nila,” Mendoza said in my interview with him for the 2019 Sa Likod ng Balita documentary.
Asked if there’s anything he finds peculiar about the recent elections, he opined: “Wala naman masyadong bago akong nakita sa 2019 elections, ganun pa rin. Incumbency, kapangyarihan, kayamanan — iyan ang formula para magtagumpay ka doon sa national-level elections.”
It’s worth mentioning that, in practice, political plays happen even before the official campaign period begins.
Prior the May 2019 elections, some personalities have already been building an infrastructure to imprint their names in public consciousness: giving away free items plastered with their faces in public events, investing in media mileage, among others.
We can see similar maneuvering after the polls, with some politicos starting to feel their way around the upcoming 2022 presidential elections. This time, movements are less pronounced as practical strategy implores a bit of secrecy before potential opponents.
At the very least, this should make one wonder where these politicians are getting their money. If the campaign — a term I use loosely here, because, as mentioned earlier, campaigns don’t necessarily start during the official period — is sponsored, who are the sponsors and what are they after? If funds are from the personal pocket of candidates, how much are they shelling out and how will they earn that money back?
Scrutiny over election spending is key to unraveling political intentions.
Maguindanao massacre
2019 culminated with a historic verdict handed down by Judge Jocelyn Solis Reyes against several accused on the controversial case that marked Philippines as among the deadliest countries for journalists. Some even touted the Maguindanao massacre case the “trial of the decade”.
One can’t simply forget November 23, 2009. Fifty-eight people, 32 of whom are journalists, were killed in an ambush in Ampatuan town in Maguindanao province, as they were on their way to the filing of Esmael “Toto” Mangudadatu’s candidacy for the gubernatorial post.
The case is personally important to me as a journalist.
In 2008, my senior year in high school, three days after I’ve decided and told my parents I wanted to be a journalist, a television news anchor and her cameramen were abducted by the militant Abu Sayyaf group.
On my freshman year in college, taking up the course closest to journalism offered in the only university my father allowed me to take the entrance exams of, the Maguindanao massacre happened.
It’s understandable why my parents were against my career choice. If anything, though, these media attacks only strengthened my resolve that we need journalism.
The essence of good journalism is obscured by today’s demand for less news and more entertainment. We don’t even have to go farther than our smartphone and computer screens, where our social media feeds are bombarded by attention-grabbing content and those getting the most engagement are viral, funny posts.
I can’t help but see the internet as our new form of escape, perhaps similar to how the television was regarded as a “boob tube” when it was first introduced to society.
The best anyone can do, really, is to look away from our screens and actually try to notice the social and economic divide in the country. One does not have to be a journalist to see the gloomy disparity among the masses. And no matter how cliché this may be: one does not need to be anything other than who one already is to make a difference.
Mental health
When we had a pitching session in 2018, a documentary on mental health was among my proposals. It was a daring move; not even my direct boss wanted to take on such project because the subject can’t be easily translated to a medium that relies on visuals. The challenge can’t be denied: mental illnesses are invisible concerns (all happening in one’s mind), and television is an audio-visual platform.
My direction was clear from the start: If approved, the documentary won’t show mental illness in its extremes — those in drab mental institutions, locked up in makeshift cells, potentially violent, good-for-nothing members of society — which had, apparently, for years, been the typical narrative mainstream media uses.
To be sure, such cases exist, but they’re not representative of the demographic and only encourages the stigma to persist.
What I wanted from the documentary was to show how mental illnesses (note how I refuse to use the word “disorder”) are not any less true than any other health concerns. Thankfully, I worked with a competent team for this documentary — in terms not only of technical skills but also of empathy — as some among us are advocates or diagnosed with mental illnesses themselves.
Invisible is one of my proudest works as a documentary producer. I’ve spent weeks talking to professionals in the field, those diagnosed with mental illnesses, and those not diagnosed but have related concerns to make sure I do things right.
Some issues we aimed to destigmatize are 1) that mental illnesses are a “millennial” thing; 2) that those with mental health concerns are unproductive members of society; 3) that only those with creative pursuits get mental illnesses; 4) that it can happen to anyone regardless of past experiences and economic class; and 5) that one has to be diagnosed to care about mental health.
Some people told me that the documentary we produced was uncomfortable to watch because it hits too close to home. I guess that’s the point. Mental illnesses can be so foreign for ordinary people to understand; it’s important to destigmatize these legitimate health concerns. At the end of the day, all it takes is for one to be kinder to people. •
Like any other documentary, a year-ender requires hard work — yet it also demands a bit more self-sacrifice.
I consider it a pleasure and a privilege to be working on year-end documentaries though. The project presents an opportunity to remind the public what, among a plethora of news stories, matter, and, despite the limited air time, to provide a deeper context on why these matter and how they affect us.
The general mood of the past week called for introspection. Finally being on a few days’ break from work, I pondered over what to make of this outrageously looooong year. Too many things happened in 2019 — both in matters of national and international affairs as well as of personal concerns — the latter, a story I’d probably write later.
Allow me to discuss three stories that I deem to be the most memorable in 2019.
Halalan 2019
Conventional wisdom dictates that midterm polls are a “referendum” to how the incumbent president is faring. Administration-backed candidates winning the elections is generally seen as a testament to how the public agrees with the overall tenor of the state of political affairs.
However, Ronald Mendoza, dean of the Ateneo School of Government, viewed the midterm poll results differently because, he said, political alliances are not founded on solid ideals and push for reforms.
“After the elections, akala nung marami, ito ay isang senyales na napakalakas ng administrasyon. Ang tingin ko, lumalabas lang talaga ‘yung tunay na kulay ng administrasyon na medyo transactional ‘yung ibang arrangements nila,” Mendoza said in my interview with him for the 2019 Sa Likod ng Balita documentary.
Asked if there’s anything he finds peculiar about the recent elections, he opined: “Wala naman masyadong bago akong nakita sa 2019 elections, ganun pa rin. Incumbency, kapangyarihan, kayamanan — iyan ang formula para magtagumpay ka doon sa national-level elections.”
It’s worth mentioning that, in practice, political plays happen even before the official campaign period begins.
Prior the May 2019 elections, some personalities have already been building an infrastructure to imprint their names in public consciousness: giving away free items plastered with their faces in public events, investing in media mileage, among others.
We can see similar maneuvering after the polls, with some politicos starting to feel their way around the upcoming 2022 presidential elections. This time, movements are less pronounced as practical strategy implores a bit of secrecy before potential opponents.
At the very least, this should make one wonder where these politicians are getting their money. If the campaign — a term I use loosely here, because, as mentioned earlier, campaigns don’t necessarily start during the official period — is sponsored, who are the sponsors and what are they after? If funds are from the personal pocket of candidates, how much are they shelling out and how will they earn that money back?
Scrutiny over election spending is key to unraveling political intentions.
Maguindanao massacre
2019 culminated with a historic verdict handed down by Judge Jocelyn Solis Reyes against several accused on the controversial case that marked Philippines as among the deadliest countries for journalists. Some even touted the Maguindanao massacre case the “trial of the decade”.
One can’t simply forget November 23, 2009. Fifty-eight people, 32 of whom are journalists, were killed in an ambush in Ampatuan town in Maguindanao province, as they were on their way to the filing of Esmael “Toto” Mangudadatu’s candidacy for the gubernatorial post.
The case is personally important to me as a journalist.
In 2008, my senior year in high school, three days after I’ve decided and told my parents I wanted to be a journalist, a television news anchor and her cameramen were abducted by the militant Abu Sayyaf group.
On my freshman year in college, taking up the course closest to journalism offered in the only university my father allowed me to take the entrance exams of, the Maguindanao massacre happened.
It’s understandable why my parents were against my career choice. If anything, though, these media attacks only strengthened my resolve that we need journalism.
The essence of good journalism is obscured by today’s demand for less news and more entertainment. We don’t even have to go farther than our smartphone and computer screens, where our social media feeds are bombarded by attention-grabbing content and those getting the most engagement are viral, funny posts.
I can’t help but see the internet as our new form of escape, perhaps similar to how the television was regarded as a “boob tube” when it was first introduced to society.
The best anyone can do, really, is to look away from our screens and actually try to notice the social and economic divide in the country. One does not have to be a journalist to see the gloomy disparity among the masses. And no matter how cliché this may be: one does not need to be anything other than who one already is to make a difference.
Mental health
When we had a pitching session in 2018, a documentary on mental health was among my proposals. It was a daring move; not even my direct boss wanted to take on such project because the subject can’t be easily translated to a medium that relies on visuals. The challenge can’t be denied: mental illnesses are invisible concerns (all happening in one’s mind), and television is an audio-visual platform.
My direction was clear from the start: If approved, the documentary won’t show mental illness in its extremes — those in drab mental institutions, locked up in makeshift cells, potentially violent, good-for-nothing members of society — which had, apparently, for years, been the typical narrative mainstream media uses.
To be sure, such cases exist, but they’re not representative of the demographic and only encourages the stigma to persist.
What I wanted from the documentary was to show how mental illnesses (note how I refuse to use the word “disorder”) are not any less true than any other health concerns. Thankfully, I worked with a competent team for this documentary — in terms not only of technical skills but also of empathy — as some among us are advocates or diagnosed with mental illnesses themselves.
Invisible is one of my proudest works as a documentary producer. I’ve spent weeks talking to professionals in the field, those diagnosed with mental illnesses, and those not diagnosed but have related concerns to make sure I do things right.
Some issues we aimed to destigmatize are 1) that mental illnesses are a “millennial” thing; 2) that those with mental health concerns are unproductive members of society; 3) that only those with creative pursuits get mental illnesses; 4) that it can happen to anyone regardless of past experiences and economic class; and 5) that one has to be diagnosed to care about mental health.
Some people told me that the documentary we produced was uncomfortable to watch because it hits too close to home. I guess that’s the point. Mental illnesses can be so foreign for ordinary people to understand; it’s important to destigmatize these legitimate health concerns. At the end of the day, all it takes is for one to be kinder to people. •