the man with the hoe

Painting by Jean Francois Millet

 with much effort I tried to execute this piece in my High School English class. my innocence failed to capture the weight of the emotion hidden in the verses. 20 years after, i cannot let go of its words and now, have found the spirit of the poem; and how it breaks my heart that in the 21st century amidst supposed civilization, there exists "men with hoes".

i find it pertinent to discuss literature with socio-economic-political significance in developing competence in sales and marketing. it builds the moral ground for management and leadership development in Philippine marketing. beyond the concepts we find in American marketing books, we must have a strong foundation of our circumstance as a Filipino. It builds maturity, self awareness and identity. It gives us direction and sense of purpose knowing the socio-political-economic situation of our country by which we have a moral obligation to respond.

on the long term, it is the hope of the nation that one of its sons or daughters can build a company and a brand that can provide opportunities for our countrymen and improve our economic situation. It is a hope of a country  who is lacking in social services, high unemployment, lacking in educational standards, high cost of living versus standard wages and lacking in leaders and managers with the high incidence of graft and corruption in our public service. it is disheartening to see supposed "bagong bayani" OFW leave their children in tender age without the nurturing hands and words of a father or a mother who is away working in some foreign land. 

the man with the hoe is a representation of the many faces of sub standard labor practice in our country - magsasaka, OFWs, fishermen, sugarcane planters, drivers, sweat shops and other form of labors which 200 years ago caused the French Revolution and started many others. the Spanish hacienda system is very much present in our society deeply embedded in our culture and economic structures. Ferdinand Marcos dictatorship halted for a time this medieval tradition - a lesser evil for an evil? However, history will teach us that a culture subjugated by 350 years of colonial rule will not easily sleep on the night. With resistance, powerful families  and old rich conspired with supposed democratic idealism to pave the way for the Oligarchs to resume power in our country. The rich will become richer and the poor will become poorer. Only a freak of nature, godly determination and skill and luck can redeem the ordinary Filipino. Without social security, no public health care, high cost of living versus minimum wage and high unemployment - our educational system is no longer responsive to the needs of the time, the needs of our country.

The Man with a Hoe

Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans
Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,
The emptiness of ages in his face,
And on his back, the burden of the world.
Who made him dead to rapture and despair,
A thing that grieves not and that never hopes,
Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?
Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw?
Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow?
Whose breath blew out the light within this brain?

Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave
To have dominion over sea and land;
To trace the stars and search the heavens for power;
To feel the passion of Eternity?
Is this the dream He dreamed who shaped the suns
And marked their ways upon the ancient deep?
Down all the caverns of Hell to their last gulf
There is no shape more terrible than this--
More tongued with cries against the world's blind greed--
More filled with signs and portents for the soul--
More packed with danger to the universe.

What gulfs between him and the seraphim!
Slave of the wheel of labor, what to him
Are Plato and the swing of the Pleiades?
What the long reaches of the peaks of song,
The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose?
Through this dread shape the suffering ages look;
Time's tragedy is in that aching stoop;
Through this dread shape humanity betrayed,
Plundered, profaned and disinherited,
Cries protest to the Powers that made the world,
A protest that is also prophecy.

O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
Is this the handiwork you give to God,
This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched?
How will you ever straighten up this shape;
Touch it again with immortality;
Give back the upward looking and the light;
Rebuild in it the music and the dream;
Make right the immemorial infamies,
Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?

O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
How will the future reckon with this Man?
How answer his brute question in that hour
When whirlwinds of rebellion shake all shores?
How will it be with kingdoms and with kings--
With those who shaped him to the thing he is--
When this dumb Terror shall rise to judge the world,
After the silence of the centuries?

I shall pass this tradition of words to my children. I desire for them to see not only with there eyes but with there hearts and minds as well. beyond the opinion of the world and supposed norms and standards, may they have the wisdom, the courage and the strength to discern the truth and to persist according to their reason and conscience.