This timeless proclamation is not merely the title of one of the most illustrious speeches in history, but also a profound testament to our identity as a nation. It was penned by Sir Carlos P. Romulo, one of the preeminent Filipino leaders, and a statesman in the truest sense of the term. A statesman, in contrast to a mere politician, is a venerable leader whose vision transcends self-interest, dedicating himself to the service of his country. Romulo embodied this ideal - deeply esteemed not only within the Philippines but also across the globe.

As I compose this reflection, I do so with profound humility, as a means of honoring Romulo and the myriad heroes - both celebrated and unsung - who have selflessly sacrificed for our cherished nation. I confess that my eyes well up with emotion as I endeavor to articulate these sentiments. There are instances when I grapple with self-doubt: is my introduction sufficiently compelling to seize attention? Do my opening sentences encapsulate the essence of my argument? Will I be able to sustain my narrative, addressing the who, what, when, where, why, and how that every writer must confront? These inquiries linger in my mind, yet I persevere, for this essay transcends mere writing - it is a profound exploration of my identity.

I find myself modestly situated in my mid-40s, a father to a vibrant 6-year-old. I have dedicated two decades to the noble profession of teaching, spent 25 years as an advocate within the NGO sector, and currently serve as a public servant in my barangay. Each day, as I traverse the path between home and work, I often pause by the roadside, absentmindedly plucking leaves from nearby plants, my mind flooded with disturbing thoughts. Is the Philippines a lost cause? Am I genuinely contributing enough to secure a brighter future for my child? Doubt seeps in, and at times, it feels insurmountable. Yet, after a moment of contemplation, I find solace in a gentle smile, a hushed prayer, and I remind myself that tomorrow heralds yet another day of potential, a day brimming with hope.

“I am a Filipino” transcended mere admiration; it constituted a pivotal chapter in my personal odyssey. Throughout my high school and collegiate years, I recited it in oratorical competitions, where it bestowed upon me both triumphs and a profound sense of pride. More than a quarter of a century later, the potency of Romulo’s eloquence continues to resonate inside me. Each line vividly encapsulates our nation's victories and tribulations, its sorrows and aspirations. His words serve as a poignant reminder that, despite the acrimony of our historical narrative, an indomitable flame of promise persists for the generations yet to come.

And yet, there exists a caveat. A persistent sense of disquiet resides deep in my conscience. I harbor no doubts regarding our collective potential as a people, yet I grapple with the tide of emotions surging within me just hearing the names of many so-called leaders in our midst today. Instead of a sense of pride, I am consumed by a profound indignation. How is it that Filipinos, entrusted with the stewardship of their compatriots, have permitted avarice and corruption to taint our institutions? How many of us silently murmur, ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! Must I disconnect from the television, the internet, and social media merely to safeguard my child's innocence?

Sometimes, I ponder: should we relinquish the pursuit of justice to the divine, as the venerable adage suggests - “Vengeance is not ours, it belongs to God”? Or must we take action, bearing in mind the Scriptural assurance that “all things work together for good”? Are we merely awaiting karma, or do we lack the fortitude to act? Am I oblivious? Am I in a state of slumber? Or am I merely feigning sleep out of trepidation regarding the consequences of rising up?

I am a Filipino. This identity signifies more than mere nationality; it embodies a profound responsibility. If I choose to remain silent, does that diminish my essence as a Filipino? If I stand idly by while corruption siphons the life out of my nation, am I not betraying the valiant heroes who preceded me? Most importantly, what legacy shall I bequeath to my child and to generations yet unborn? I could conjure an array of more questions steeped in doubt, reflecting on what has transpired and what may yet unfold, but will such introspection yield the truth?

Carlos P. Romulo once proclaimed that being Filipino is not merely a privilege, but an honor and a profound duty. Today, I find myself pondering - along with all of us - whether we continue to embody this truth. I contend that the answer resides not solely in our rhetoric, but in our deliberate actions - immediate and resolute - for our nation, for our compatriots, and for the generations that will follow.