(A letter to all Filipinas living in the United States)

Dear fellow / Filipina,
Dear sister,
The news on the woman raped,
the plaintiff who recanted her testimony,
was news that whipped our hearts,
news that asked us to bridge the present and the past,
the present and the future.

How does one forget the violation of the body,
the stripping of dignity,
the violence of conquest?

We are women walking tightropes,
seemingly floating on air.
Each day a balancing act,
one foot in front of another,
ams outstreched holding on a balance pole,
eyes front to the point of destination,
the key to the certainty of our steps,
the stability of our stand.

We live in a colonizing nation
while our spirits reside
in our mother country in the East.
Like her, the woman raped, she who fought,
and then again, went forward and backward,
Each day, we face, we weigh,
our questions and contradictions.
Yes, so many questions, so many contradictions.
And yet, we hold in our hands the memory
of the Victoria Laktaws, poets who wrote verses on colonial rape.
of Karangalan, or Honor, the heroine who rejected Macamcam the Greedy
in a play performed a century past.
of Tandang Sora, the 90-year old revolutionary
who refused to take an oath of allegiance to America.
Together, if we look towards the struggle in the homeland,
each step we take, anywhere in the world,
is a step we offer towards the freedom
of the country of our hearts.

It is not true that tightrope walkers have no fear.
They just have faith that even when the ankle pivots,
the soles of their feet will never sway.

English translation of “Pagtulay sa Alambre”
Author’s note: This poem was inspired by the work and statements of Nicole’s lawyer, Ging Ursua, as well as other fellow TOWNS members (June, Tita Letty, Lorna, Nina, Tessy, etc.) who have fought hard not only for Nicole but also for true sovereignty in the Philippines. I also acknowledge Gabriela Philippines’s consistent struggle against the Visiting Forces Agreement. I dedicate this poem to the following women I work with in the US: Kuusela Hilo, whom I relied on for comfort and friendship when I was a homemaker in Boston; to Chat Aban, Rachel Redondiez, Rhonda Ramiro, and Roseli Ilano, my co-workers in the Bay area, and to Julia Camagong, my friend and fellow Peryante member for twenty-five years.