Declamation

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Guilty or Not Guilty

Anonymous

He stood at the bar of justice; creature wan and wield, in form too small for a man, in feature too
old for a child, but he stood so worn and pathetic -- 'twas stamped on his pale young face. It
seemed long years of sufferings must have left a silent trace. "I will tell you just how it was, sir.
My father and mother are dead, and my little brothers and sisters were hungry and asked me for
bread. At first I earned it for them by working hard all day, but somehow the times were hard,
sir, and the work fell all away. I could get no more employment. The weather was bitter cold and
the young ones cried and shivered; little Johnny's but four years old.

“So, what was I to do, sir? I'm guilty, but not condemned. I got, oh was it stealing the bread to
give to them?" Every man in the courtroom graybeard, and thoughtless youth knew as they
looked upon him that the prisoner spoke the truth. Out from their pockets came handkerchiefs,
out from their eyes sprang tears; and out from the old faded wallets treasures hoarded for years.

"Your name?" said the judge as he eyed him with kindly look at kin: "Is... Mark McGuire, if you
please, sir".

"And your age"

"I've turned fifteen."

"Well, Mark", and then from a paper he slowly and gravely read, "You are charged here, I am
sorry to say it, with stealing three loaves of bread. You look not like an offender and I hope that
you will show the charge of stealing three loaves of bread to be false. Now tell me are you guilty
of this or not?” A passionate burst of weeping was at first his sole reply; and he dried his tears in
a moment then looked at the judge's eyes. "Sir, I ask you, am I guilty or not guilty?"
We Have Become Untrue to Ourselves! By Felix B. Bautista

With all the force and vigor at my command, I contend that we have relaxed our vigilance, that
we have allowed ourselves to deteriorate. I contend that we have lost our pride in the Philippines,
that we no longer consider it a privilege and an honor to be born a Filipino.

To the Filipino youth, nothing Filipino is good enough anymore. Even their Filipino names no
longer suit them. A boy named Juan does not care to be called Juanito anymore. No, he must be
Johnny. A girl named Virginia would get sore if she was nicknamed Viring or Biñang. No, she
must be Virgie or Ginny. Roberto has become Bobbie; Maria, Mary or Marie.

And because they have become so Americanized, because they look down on everything
Filipino, they now regard with contempt all the things that our fathers and our fathers’ fathers
held dear. They frown on kissing the hands of their elders, saying that it is unsanitary. They don’t
care for the Angelus, saying that it is old-fashioned. They belittle the kundiman, because it is so
drippingly sentimental.

They are what they are today because their elders – their parents and their teachers – have
allowed them to be such. They are incongruities because they cannot be anything else! And they
cannot be anything else because their elders did not know enough, or did not care enough to
fashion them and to mold them into the Filipino pattern.

This easing of the barriers that would have protected our Filipinism, this has resulted in
something more serious, I refer to the de-Filipinization of our economic life.

Let us face it. Economically speaking, we Filipinos have become strangers in our own country.

And so, today, we are witnesses to the spectacle of a Philippines inhabited by Filipinos who do
not act and talk like Filipinos. We are witnesses to the pathetic sight of a Philippines controlled
and dominated and run by non-Filipinos.

We have become untrue to ourselves, we have become traitors to the brave Filipinos who fought
and died so that liberty might live in the Philippines. We have betrayed the trust that Rizal
reposed on us, we are not true to the faith that energized Bonifacio, the faith that made Gregorio
del Pilar cheerfully lay down his life at Tirad Pass.

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