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I am juan dela cruz oratorical piece

I am a fighter by blood and a believer by heart. I live in a freecountry. Although I may have a small voice, I have a big dream—a dream to master the artof spear.

  • Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive;
  • We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation;
  • How many years will you live?
  • I can no longer live, being apart from those world now trembles to the roar of bomb and cannon shot;
  • So we have come here today to dramatize an appalling condition.

To our distinguished members of the board of judges, to my equally competent contenders,to all our keen visitors, ladies and gentlemen, good morning. To live in a multi-faceted and vast word of globally competent people is to let a Juandela Cruz abide by the rule of the jungle that is the survival of the fittest and theelimination of the unfit.

In order to survive, Juan must master the art of spear—the spear that will make himinvincible, i am juan dela cruz oratorical piece spear that will help him emerge as king, the spear that is known today asEnglish Proficiency.

But what is English Proficiency? What does it do to help Juan in this crisis-laden world? Ladies and gentlemen, this is the skill in using the English language.

This will bringJuan closer to excellence—excellence in quenching his thirst for global competitiveness,excellence in responding his own hullabaloos and excellence in proving his worth. Furthermore, we might ask, why would Juan dream of this excellence? Let us not shut oureyes to the tragic reality that Juan dela Cruz is left behind, that Juan is amidstpolitical feuds, religious warfare and illiteracy battle in using the lingua franca,English.

This shows that there had been a huge decline in all aspects of English Proficiency amongthe Filipinos compared to December 1993 and September 2003 results. This thenthrew back the blame to the quality of instruction in schools and had been even provenwhen it had been said in the 2000 Philippine Human Development Report of the UnitedNations that would-be-teachers have poor English language skills and scored lowest inEnglish of all subjects in their licensure exam.

Friends, if this decline continues, to what direction shall Juan move? Let Juan beequipped with the English skill, let his voice be raised to a higher decibel that itreaches out to others and from there, it will reverberate to constantly remind us that weare the main instruments in responding to our own struggle and efforts to eradicate allforms of discrimination. In doing so we must evidently speak our mind but in such a waythat foreign people may understand us and eventually join us in our i am juan dela cruz oratorical piece.

From therecomes the edge of being erudite in the English language. If only we could beat thisEnglish Proficiency crisis, we could penetrate through foreign conversations and we couldsurvive in the global market.

I am juan dela cruz oratorical piece

Many people mayknow the language but few are great. If Juan will be one of those few, it would be suchan immense deal of honor and pride. If he would prove his worth, he shall see himselfinvincible and unconquerable. That even if he is in the middle of the jungle he shall beready and brave to take on challenges — the mastering of the art of spear.

I am a Juan dela Cruz. Yes, they are dirty. And they are rough and knobby and calloused. They are not pretty hands, they are dirty and knobby and calloused. But they are strong hands, hands that make so much that the world must have or die. Someday, I think, the world should go down on its knees and kiss all the dirty hands of the working world, as in the days long past, armored knights would kiss the hands of ladies fair.

  • I have seen the light of justice and equality and freedom and my heart has been lifted by the vision of democracy, and I shall not rest until my land and my people shall have been blessed by these, beyond the power of any man or nation to subvert or destroy;
  • It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter.

The world has kissed such hands. The world will always kiss such hands. Men and women put reverent lips to the hands of Him who held the hammer and the saw and the plane. They were torn right clean through by ugly nails, and the blood was running from them, and the edges of the wounds were raw and dirty and swollen; and the joints were crooked and the fingers were horribly bent in a mute appeal for love. I Am a Filipino I am a Filipino — inheritor of a glorious past, hostage to the uncertain future.

As such I must prove equal to a two-fold task- the task of meeting my responsibility to the past, and the task of performing my obligation to the future.

Oratorical Piece

I sprung from a hardy race — child of many generations removed of ancient Malayan pioneers. Across the centuries, the memory comes rushing back to me: This is the land they sought and found. Every inch of shore that their eyes first set upon, every hill and mountain that beckoned to them with a green and purple invitation, every mile of rolling plain that their view encompassed, every river and lake that promise a plentiful living and the fruitfulness of commerce, is a hollowed spot to me.

By the strength of their hearts and hands, by every right of law, human and divine, this land and all the appurtenances thereof — the black and fertile soil, the seas and lakes and rivers teeming with fish, the forests with their inexhaustible wealth in wild life and timber, the mountains with their bowels swollen with minerals — the whole of this rich and happy land has been, for centuries without number, the land of my fathers.

This land I received in trust from them and in trust will pass i am juan dela cruz oratorical piece to my children, and so on until the world no more. I am a Filipino. In my blood runs the immortal seed of heroes — seed that flowered down the centuries in deeds of courage and defiance. In my veins yet pulses the same hot blood that sent Lapulapu to battle against the alien foe that drove Diego Silang and Dagohoy into rebellion against the foreign oppressor.

That seed is immortal. It is the self-same seed that flowered in the heart of Jose Rizal that morning in Bagumbayan when a volley of i am juan dela cruz oratorical piece put an end to all that was mortal of him and made his spirit deathless forever; the same that flowered in the hearts of Bonifacio in Balintawak, of Gergorio del Pilar at Tirad Pass, of Antonio Luna at Calumpit; that bloomed in flowers of frustration in the sad heart of Emilio Aguinaldo at Palanan, and yet burst fourth royally again in the proud heart of Manuel L.

Quezon when he stood at last on the threshold of ancient Malacanang Palace, in the symbolic act of possession and racial vindication. The seed I bear within me is an immortal seed. It is the mark of my manhood, the symbol of dignity as a human being.

Like the seeds that were once buried in the tomb of Tutankhamen many thousand years ago, it shall grow and flower and bear fruit again. It is the insigne of my race, and my generation is but a stage in the unending search of my people for freedom and happiness.

I am a Filipino, child of the marriage of the East and the West. The East, with its languor and mysticism, its passivity and endurance, was my mother, and my sire was the West that came thundering across the seas with the Cross and Sword and the Machine.

I am of the East, an eager participant in its struggles for liberation from the imperialist yoke. But I also know that the East must awake from its centuried sleep, shape of the lethargy that has bound his limbs, and start moving where destiny awaits. For, I, too, am of he West, and the vigorous peoples of the West have destroyed forever the peace and quiet that once were ours.

I can no longer live, being apart from those world now trembles to the roar of bomb and cannon shot. For no man and no nation is an island, but a part of the main, there is no longer any East and West — only individuals and nations making those momentous choices that are hinges upon which history resolves. At the vanguard of progress in this part of the world I stand — a forlorn figure in the eyes of some, but not one defeated and lost.

For through the thick, interlacing branches of habit and custom above me I have seen the light of the sun, and I know that it is good.

I am juan dela cruz oratorical piece

I have seen the light of justice and equality and freedom and my heart has been lifted by the vision of democracy, and I shall not rest until my land and my people shall have been blessed by these, beyond the power of any man or nation to subvert or destroy. I am a Filipino, and this is my inheritance.

What pledge shall I give that I may prove worthy of my inheritance? I shall give the pledge that has come ringing down the corridors of the centuries, and it shall be compounded of the joyous cries of my Malayan forebears when they first saw the contours of this land loom before their eyes, of the battle cries that have resounded in every field of combat from Mactan to Tirad pass, of the voices of my people when they sing: Out of the lush green of these seven thousand isles, out of the heartstrings of sixteen million people all vibrating to one song, I shall weave the mighty fabric of my pledge.

Out of the songs of the farmers at sunrise when they go to labor in the fields; out of the sweat of the hard-bitten pioneers in Mal-ig and Koronadal; out of the silent endurance of stevedores at the piers and the ominous grumbling of peasants Pampanga; out of the first cries of babies newly born and the lullabies that mothers sing; out of the crashing of gears and the whine of turbines in the factories; out of the crunch of ploughs upturning the earth; out of the limitless patience of teachers in the classrooms and doctors in the clinics; out of the tramp of soldiers marching, I shall make the pattern of my pledge: Life is a Warfare: It is a warfare older than the world, for it began with the revolt of the angels.

It is a warfare wide as the world; it rages in every nation, every city, in the heart of every man. Satan desires all men to come under his Standard, and to this end lures them with riches, honors, power, all that ministers to the lust and pride of man. Christ on the contrary, invites all to fight under His Standard. But He offers no worldly allurement; only Himself. Only Jesus; only the Son of Man; born an outcast, raised in poverty, rejected as a teacher, betrayed by His friend, crucified as a criminal.

And therefore His followers shall not be confounded forever; they are certain of ultimate victory; against them, the gates of Hell cannot prevail.

The powers of darkness shall splinter before their splendid battalions. Two armies, two Standards, two generals… and to every man there comes the imperious cry of command: And in the choice he makes, is summed up the life of every man. Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice.

It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity. But one hundred years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Negro is still not free.

One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination.

One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize an appalling condition. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir.

This note was a promise that all men would be guaranteed the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory i am juan dela cruz oratorical piece insofar as her citizens of color i am juan dela cruz oratorical piece concerned.

We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now.

This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice.

Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. It i am juan dela cruz oratorical piece be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment and to underestimate the determination of the Negro. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual.

  • This is the faith with which I return to the South;
  • One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity;
  • For, I, too, am of he West, and the vigorous peoples of the West have destroyed forever the peace and quiet that once were ours;
  • They were torn right clean through by ugly nails, and the blood was running from them, and the edges of the wounds were raw and dirty and swollen; and the joints were crooked and the fingers were horribly bent in a mute appeal for love;
  • Light is the power to dispel darkness;
  • Short Oration about Life — Ready?

There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.