Editor’s Note: The author is a journalism student at the University of Sydney in Australia and is currently an intern at the Inquirer.

MANILA, Philippines -- In 1986, CBS Anchorman Bob Simon uttered these famous words while reporting about People Power at Edsa: “We Americans like to think we taught the Filipinos democracy; well, tonight they are teaching the world.”

I wonder what he would say today.

Twenty-one years ago today, Araceli Boncaras Alcantara stood at the crowded frontline of the Edsa I People Power revolution, placard in hand, four hours into the protest and two months pregnant.

Like many others, she stood there because she refused to be another powerless spectator to the abuse of power in the country she loved. She stood there to openly oppose the dictatorship that plagued the nation, and demand justice for 20 years of oppression.

And above all, she stood on Edsa in the hope that one day, her daughter would have reason to be proud of her country.

That woman was my mother, and that child was me. Edsa is part of my identity—literally.

For one, I was named “Kris,” after the youngest daughter of assassinated ex-Sen. Benigno Aquino Jr. and his wife Corazon Aquino.

One of the very reasons I came to pursue journalism was I wanted to emulate my parents’ fervent pursuit of democracy using the skills I had been blessed with. My parents, articulate graduates of the University of the Philippines and passionate anti-Marcos protesters, taught me by example the importance of fighting for one’s country and defending one’s beliefs.

Exactly 21 years later, life seems to have come full circle as I sit at the press office in Malacañang, the former home of the dictator my parents once helped oust, watching the footage of Edsa I on television and writing for the paper they once read (the Inquirer, which was then the leader of the so-called “mosquito press”).

I came to Manila after obtaining one of the six coveted Myer and AKF journalism scholarships at the University of Sydney, which annually send senior journalism students to countries in Southeast Asia.

I have made the Philippines my first preference because I yearned to retrace my nation’s history—the reasons for and ramifications of events such as Edsa I, II and even III.

So as I watch the TV footage of 400,000 human barriers fending off guns and tanks, fighting for freedom and justice yet armed with nothing but rosaries and flowers, I cannot help but question if the dreams of these individuals ever came to fruition.

Which brings me to this question: Is this the Philippines that they envisioned when they fought for a better government so long ago?

After two decades, my mama still holds the same convictions that compelled her to join Edsa I.

She may have migrated to the land Down Under to seek a better life, but she is no sellout.

My mother is quick to assert that she does not regret her involvement in the revolution.

“I believe Edsa I was not a wasted effort,” she says.

“I participated for the right reasons. The People Power Revolution will forever be the Filipino people’s contribution to democracy, and I think we achieved it to some extent.”

In her eyes, however, nothing much has changed in the country she left years ago.

“Today’s young people are still suffering similar problems that we did back then, although in different forms and with different faces,” she says.

“It’s been 21 years and the initial problems are still here—creeping dictatorship and political dynasty, corruption, the wanton abuse of power and systematic plunder of our nation’s wealth and resources.”

Many ordinary Filipinos echo her sentiments, and even go so far as to label Edsa I as pointless and futile in Internet opinion forums on websites such as TDP, Istorya, Boardreader and The Philippine Government website.

As prominent educator Jose B. Abueva aptly put it in his Inquirer article of Feb. 22, 1999: “[The Filipino people’s] dream to be free was now reality. But as they set their country free, so was the machinery of corruption set free and running as it was in the time of tyranny. The Filipinos kicked out the looters of this nation’s wealth only to realize that a new pack of looters had taken over.”

My mother acknowledges that governments may have come and gone in this country but the same issues confront the nation—electoral fraud, suppression of dissent, loss of some civil liberties and harassment of the media.

“Tama na, sobra na, palitan na—it saddens me that the same war cry still applies 20 years later,” she says.

While part of me cannot deny the truth behind these sentiments, I still believe that there are many aspects of our nation that we should be proud of.

Perhaps I still possess the wide-eyed naivete of youth, but I am pleased to witness a booming tourism industry, the proliferation of world-class shopping centers, restos and nightlife, and an improvement in infrastructure in Metro Manila, particularly in public transport such as the MRT and LRT.

The economy is also on a roll, and while the government would always want to take sole credit for this, it conveniently overlooks that we are just lucky the US economy is slowing down, making investors find other markets like the Philippines.

Still, I know there’s a lot of things to be proud of in this country.

It holds a lot of promise despite the ironies that sometimes confound logic.

We are a Third World country but with huge shopping malls that can rival the world’s best. We are a country with slum areas right next door to the central business district. We are a country so devoutly Roman Catholic, yet our government is plagued with issues of corruption and abuse.

In my three weeks’ stay here, I have witnessed children running around barefoot and naked in slum areas, smiling and laughing. I have witnessed friendly Filipino men stand in the middle of a congested road in the blistering heat to sell staplers and face towels just to feed their children.

Yet they survive. They even share a good laugh with strangers like me.

I believe that this is the spirit behind Edsa I, and this is what we should remember and celebrate.

But was Edsa I pointless? A resounding “No!”

How can thousands of faceless, unnamed Filipinos, with locked arms to end tyranny, go wrong? Looking back at this watershed event, it makes me proud to be an Edsa baby, and even prouder to be a Filipino.

Abueva himself concluded that “Edsa happened and the Filipino made it happen. No one can diminish Edsa or take it away from the Filipino. Let the people rejoice that there ever was an Edsa.”

Using my mama’s words, “It’s a bittersweet victory.”

The onus now lies on us, the children of the revolution, to stop talking and to start doing.

The torch has been passed. We have the responsibility to pick up where our parents left off.

Our parents proved that they could oust a corrupt and abusive regime. We can take it a step further, if we want to, by ensuring that the ideals of Edsa I live on in the generation of Filipinos to come—freedom, hope, justice, accountability and faith in God.