Teaching our national anthem

After about three months of this daily practice, most of the Kinder kids got to commit the lyrics to memory and sing the anthem with gusto. Well and good, even if some words and pronunciation wobble at almost every line. Rote memory helps them manage to read, write and sing these lyrics in Filipino.

But do the kids understand what they read, write and sing? I believe that they mostly behave as parrots, or recording machines sans any capability for actual comprehension. Oh, I’d grant them some degree of spotty understanding, unfortunately on a similar level that plagues many Filipinos, including the educated.

One problem is what usually burdens comprehension of native terms, from Tagalog to Filipino: the inordinate length of some words, e.g., pansamantala, pangasiwaan, pananampalataya. And there are those whose “unlapi” or prefix plus “hulapi” or suffix are longer than the root word, as with “nangagsipag-uwian” This results in the seeming impenetrability of certain terms, particularly those that are multi-syllabled and abstract, which mostly remain unfamiliar unless one were Bulakeño.

Other languages have the same feature, as with German, Maori, or heavens, Welsh—which leads to street signs almost as long as the streets. (I exaggerate.) But I believe that early education does the trick. And since Lupang Hinirang is our early graders’ first encounter with a long piece that they’ll have to memorize—actually the first substantial poem/song other than TikTok pick-ups or nursery rhymes—then it presents the primary opportunity to introduce them to the character and flavor of our native language, as well as its graceful strength as a metaphor. 

This opportunity includes learning all about our anthem’s evolution. Factoids: Julián Felipe composed the music for June 12, 1898. Lyrics adapted from the Spanish poem “Filipinas” by José Palma in 1899, replaced by Tagalog lyrics on May 26, 1956, and codified as Filipino lyrics on February 12, 1998.

So it’s a melange of history, language development, and metaphorical value that competes against online argot such as the Minions’ inclusion in their multi-faceted “gibberish” of simple Filipino terms like “Tara ikot” and “Pwede na?”—which young YouTubers cross-appropriate for conversion into the popular “Hello, Papagena, walang pera, walang papaya.”

Start them young and continue the education for years, as necessary.

“Bayang magiliw/ Perlas ng silanganan …” The concept of “bayan” has to be introduced, and explained, as referring to our country, Filipinas. And that adding a “g” makes it subject to a subsequent modifier or adjective, one that will not refer to singer Bayang Barrios. Six-to-eight-year-olds have to learn the relatively uncommon word “magiliw” as one that encompasses “affectionate, friendly, pleasant, hospitable…” The graphic “Perlas” should be easy enough to recognize, especially if the teacher happens to wear a strand of those glistening balls that come from certain oysters.

“Silanganan” has the East as root word: it’s as good a time as any to inform first-graders about maps, directions, geography. A Filipinist would have to explain the choice between “silangan” and “silanganan.”

“Puso, dibdib, buhay” are among the first native words we understand and use, so no problem there. But as with poetry, a song’s lyrics effectively employ metaphors, such as “alab,” which is one of many words that refer to “fire” or “flame,” and most metaphorically, to “fervor, ardor, burning passion.” 

“Lupang hinirang” has to be explained to recalcitrant Cebuanos as meaning “chosen, selected, appointed, anointed,” or “gitudlo.” Thus, our anthem’s title: Chosen Land.

“Duyan ka ng magiting” offers the wonderfully metaphorical “cradle of the noble”—which in an earlier iteration had it as “noble heroes.”

Now, “manlulupig” and “pasisiil” are not your common words in Filipino, perhaps well until adolescence. “Dagat, bundok, langit, bughaw” are graphic and learned early, “simoy” for “light breeze” a little later.

The second half of the anthem’s 20 lines, or two-and-a-half quatrains as stanzas, are redolent with metaphors. Poetic for “splendor,” “dilag” has many synonyms: “ganda, alindog, kariktan, kaalindugan” (progressively getting adult). Its conflation with “tula/ At awit” is extended to “paglayang minamahal.” The poetic tack is repeated with “kislap ng watawat” as equated with “Tagumpay na nangniningning,” and the graphic imagery of “bituin at araw” counterpointed with “di magdidilim” (never darkening).

“Luwalhati” is both glory and splendor; it is the last “tough” word for early learners. The rest of the poem-as-anthem build up the patriotic fervor with more imagery and a vow of allegiance, to the extent of martyrdom.

I say it again: comprehending our national anthem should be the first classroom and homework task for early learners, even as the lessons may take years—to inculcate complete absorption as effective education.

Our kids will learn history and mature language use, even intrinsic values of comparison, assessment and choice. Why, they might even get to love (“mahal”) and prefer “pamahalaan” to “gobyerno,” which sounds like “impyerno.”