The Artist Who Paints With His Feet
“I believe in God. If there is creation, then there is a creator.” —Amado Dulnuan, foot painter
This article was made possible by the partial inclusion of material from the Pinto-Syvilla-Torre documentary, “Unawa, Hindi Awa” (Understanding, Not Pity), hosted by De La Salle University’s Communication Arts Department (DLSU—ComArts), Manila. The Solace Team thanks the trio for giving us access to their video.
We interviewed the artist recently to follow up on what has happened since that documentary on him was produced. We share his life story with our valued readers, so they may also be inspired to create their own masterpieces—and show the despondent that whatever their situation may be, it isn’t hopeless. If a man without arms can make an exemplary life for himself and his family, what more can we who have what he doesn’t?
We translated the interviewee’s answers into English according to the context in which they were said, not verbatim.
What would you do if you woke up one morning with both your arms missing? To most people, that would be the ultimate nightmare. But to foot painter Amado Dulnuan, it’s just an ordinary day. He goes about his daily activities with nonchalance, despite not having any arms, hands, or fingers. Come work time, he sits down in front of his easel, picks up his brush with his toes, then paints… brilliantly and with purpose.
Amado is one of many people around the world whose disability is a casualty of thalidomide [1], a sedative given in the late 1950s and early 1960s to mothers during the first few months of pregnancy for treating morning sickness. The drug was discovered to have caused birth defects, such as extreme underdevelopment (or lack) of limbs, as well as malfunctioning hearts, intestines, and blood vessels. Although it was banned in developed countries, it’s still being prescribed in poorer nations.
However, the medical community brought thalidomide back in circulation to treat illnesses like leprosy, multiple myeloma [2], and HIV-associated conditions [3] (human immunodeficiency virus), such as wasting syndrome and aphthous ulcers.
A Different Path to Earth
Amado Dulnuan was born without arms in 1957 in Kiangan, Ifugao, in Northern Luzon, the largest island of the Philippines. He is the youngest of seven children (two sons and five daughters) born to Juan Tawal Dulnuan and Maria Binwag, both farmers. Of all their kids, Amado is the only one with a disability, yet he has the most successful livelihood. He is a celebrated visual artist known in the local creative community as the first Filipino member of the Association of Mouth and Foot Painting Artists of the World (AMFPA; VDMFK in German) founded by Arnulf Erich Stegmann in 1953.
Amado uses his feet while some of his colleagues use their mouths to paint to make up for their lack of arms. We asked him if he had “special powers,” like a gymnast. When he was a kid, were his bones, joints, and muscles more pliable than most people’s, and did these become more flexible as he grew older?
“I had been born this way, so I got accustomed to using my feet in all activities that I could physically manage,” he explained. Unlike some physically challenged people, he didn’t venture into alternative therapy, such as acupuncture, reiki, yoga, and t'ai chi, to improve mobility. The exercises the therapists introduced to him at the children’s wing of the orthopedic hospital where he studied were the standard kind.
He tried using prosthetics (artificial limbs) as a child but stopped wearing them after a short period. “They were heavy,” he lamented. “I was more comfortable using my feet.”
Special Ed
When Amado was five years old, his aunt took him to Manila, the country’s capital, to secure his education. Sister Valeriana, a Belgian nun, took him in. She remained his mentor from childhood to adulthood.
Sister Valeriana founded homes for the mentally and physically challenged in Quezon City, the greater Manila area, Baguio, Davao, and many other parts of the nation. She found sponsors for Dulnuan’s education, from elementary to college. Sadly, she is no longer with us. Not much was known about her because she was publicity-shy.
Amado learned to hone his creative skills at the National Orthopedic Hospital’s School for Crippled Children, where he went for his primary education. (House Bill #9619 has since renamed the school to Philippine Orthopedic Center School for Differently Abled Learners.) While he and fellow disabled patients were undergoing physical rehabilitation there, the therapists taught them how to develop their innate talents. Amado’s interest was in drawing.
“I had always been interested in art from childhood,” he said. “My first foray into the visual medium was recreating characters from the action comic books I devoured as a kid. I chose art as my field of endeavor because I had a feeling it would lead to a fulfilling livelihood.”
That was how Amado and his mentors discovered his talent for painting. He didn’t know it at that time, but his intuition about flourishing in fine arts would come true. He proved wrong those who underestimated him, like his former teacher, Dr. Fe Reyes, whose recollection of him was of a “not very bright, average” student. “He was quiet and obedient but very shy,” she recalled.
Amado completed his elementary education in 1972 and high school in 1976. “My education was free because I attended public schools,” he explained. “We didn’t pay for our dorm either because Sister Valeriana took care of our accommodation through the help of the civic organizations she founded. For my college education at the University of the Philippines (UP), she found me a sponsor: the Wheelchair and Disabled Association of the Philippines, an organization of wealthy physically challenged Filipinos. Its president then was Moises Diaz, a former UP professor.”
However, Amado stopped short of finishing his college course—but only because of incomplete credits in Physical Education.
“(My professors) gave me what was then called ‘adapted PE,’ but I found it difficult because the sports on offer were swimming and soccer. I didn’t think I could handle those, so I quit. After that, I didn’t have any plans to continue my studies. I was content with what I had accomplished so far. Anyhow, some professors told us that if we knew how to produce art on our own, course completion wasn’t mandatory. Students who typically pursued their diplomas did so because their scholarship sponsors required it. Either that or they wanted to be famous. But for me, I was okay with (dropping out of college).”
Tackling the “Elephant”
In 1982, two years after he quit university, Amado married Lea Tikiko, herself a PWD (person with disability). Their union produced two daughters and two grandchildren, all born without disabilities.
On Conception
The Solace Team broached a touchy topic, but Amado was candid in his answer. “When you and your wife were trying to conceive, were you worried that your children might have the same disability as yours?” we asked. “What did you and your wife do to ensure your kids were born with complete faculties? Did you join clinical trials or use fertility drugs, artificial methods of conception, or religious/spiritual methods like consulting albularyos (faith healers)?”
“When my wife and I got together, we didn’t worry about such things. We trusted that God will give us ‘normal’ children,” he replied.
On External Perception
We wondered how Amado’s wife viewed his disability. “There’s no problem between me and my wife because we are both PWDs,” he said.
“What about your children?” we asked. “When they were younger or in their teens, did they have a problem introducing you to their classmates and friends? If so, how did you and your wife resolve it?”
“Our children, as well as their friends and classmates, have accepted our situation early on. We are also well-known in our neighborhood and have a good relationship with our neighbors,” Amado said.
“But surely, you would have prepared them for the reality of the outside world,” we persisted. “What have you taught your kids about disability?”
“We didn’t have to teach them anything as they have grown up with us and are therefore used to us,” Amado explained. “They also regularly mingle with our fellow PWD friends whenever they visit our home.”
Recently, he updated us on their daughters: ”They both have their own kids now. Our youngest is working in Qatar while our eldest is with us, taking care of us and our grandchildren.”
Early Work
Amado’s first paintings were inspired by cubism, the technique of using geometric shapes, planes, and collages to compose images. Later, though, his subsequent pieces veered away from the abstract and into impressionism and landscapes. Apart from oil on canvas, he uses watercolor and Prismacolor pencils. He was able to afford the raw materials for his paintings when he was first starting out through the kindness of his sponsors.
Amado cites his family as his inspiration. He determines the themes and titles of his paintings “depending on how they turn out.” He doesn’t plan them in advance. His existing artwork is categorized into still life, flora & fauna, pastoral life, landscapes, and abstractionism.
Unlike some of his fellow AMFPA artists, Amado doesn’t do mouth-painting. “I use my feet in all manageable activities, including painting,” he stated.
Exhibits
Amado staged his first exhibit, “Ethnica,” at The Heirloom Art Gallery in San Juan, Metro Manila, on December 3-23,1983. Tess Lopez, the gallery owner, and Mario Alcantara of the Heritage Arts Center sponsored the event.
In August 1988, Amado presented his second exhibit at The Manila Peninsula titled “Mula sa Magandang Umaga” (From a Beautiful Morning). He joined forces with four other PWD painters: Eleazar Infante, Jovy Sasutona, Maricar Bingaag, and Francis Silva. Dow Chemicals sponsored their showcase.
More recent exhibits included those in SM-Marikina in August 2018 and SM-Mall of Asia in 2022, and at the Asian Hospital, South Manila, on February 21-24, 2023.
Accolades
Amado won three art competitions:
1980: The Disabled Olympics on-the-spot watercolor contest
1982: A contest in Japan under the sponsorship of the Capitol Jaycees of Quezon City
1983: He won first place in the painting section of the Leonard Cheshire Foundation International’s creativity contest held in London, England. The foundation presented the prize to Amado on September 21. The judge was the former director of the Victoria & Albert Museum, Sir Roy Strong, a distinguished figure in London’s art scene. The Leonard Cheshire Foundation also sponsored the Sinag-Tala Cheshire House, of which Amado is a part. The Philippine chapter is located in the GSIS Village in Project 8, Quezon City. Group Captain Leonard Cheshire began the foundation, whose patron was the late Queen Elizabeth II.
Most Significant Accomplishment
Amado’s biggest achievement was being the first Filipino member of AMFPA. Flor Dimaculangan from the local chapter invited him to join. After approving his membership application, the AMFPA head office in Liechtenstein sent him a contract. When he joined in 1986, the organization had 170 members from around the world, with Amado being the sole representative from the Philippines. As of 2016, there were 820 members from 76 countries.
Amado is with AMFPA until now—a profound blessing, since full members receive a monthly salary from the day they were admitted into the organization until their passing.
Apart from this stipend, “we artists keep all proceeds from our artwork,” Amado explained in the documentary. “If local sales increase, our salaries also increase.”
His inclusion in AMFPA was a testament to his expertise in painting. The organization accepted him on the basis of his exhibits in 1983 and his being featured in mass media.
Appearances on TV, Print Media, and Online
“Before the pandemic, (my fellow AMFPA artists and) I were interviewed for TV shows, but nowadays, we just hold exhibits,” Amado stated.
He has been featured in social media; news broadcasts; print publications, such as The Manila Chronicle’s Lifestyle section; and TV programs, like Probe (episode titled “Disabled, Not Unable”), Eye to Eye, Pep Talk, and Magandang Umaga (Beautiful Morning).
Three of his paintings have been published in a book: Expat Scribe’s psychological techno-thriller, The Invisible Cyber Bully, (ebook and print edition), available on Amazon and Galleon.
Politicking in the Creative Space
The art world has its share of internal politics. Amado relayed an instance when he became disillusioned with local associations. One of those asked him to join them. Their objective was to sponsor art exhibits by PWD artists. The group promised Amado and colleagues a portion of the profits from those shows, but they did not receive any.
Also, anomalies in deliveries of seasonal AMFPA cards occurred. Customers called to report missing Christmas cards. Amado guessed the problem stemmed from the local post office because the envelopes the cards came in were not sealed when they were snail-mailed to purchasers. Dimaculangan said that police caught a high-level postal employee discarding AMFPA-marked envelopes into a creek, yet he wasn’t penalized.
“For a while, we were worried that AMFPA headquarters might shut down its Philippine chapter because of those events,” Amado said. “If the expenses on card reproduction and logistics weren’t recouped, that would affect the sustainability of the local branch. The hope was that if it was profitable, HQ would build a school for mouth-and-foot artists, but we have yet to see improvements leading to that goal.”
Leveling Off
After those achievements, Amado was content with simply producing artwork and shied away from additional art contests. “I just want to keep on working,” he explained, “but I’m thankful whenever I get the chance to help a fellow disabled person. My plan is to continue improving my skillset up to whatever level it can reach, but I’m not keen on joining more competitions. My work now is meant for my kids, who give me joy. My ambition in life is simple: I just want to give them a good education and for my work to be continuous and sustainable. I wish to complete this goal of a simple family man before I leave this earth.”
Despite this reluctance, he accepted an invitation to judge a competition by disabled artists. At the event, he was reunited with a former teacher and joined by a famous local artist. However, he conveyed a hint of disapproval in their judging. “I saw that their styles emerged,” implying a bias had occurred. It seemed the winning entries were chosen because they reflected those judges’ personal approaches to art.
Noting his disgruntlement, we asked what he would have done if he didn’t go into painting. “If I wasn’t successful in my painting,” he surmised, “I probably would be back in the countryside with my parents and siblings, forced to eke out a difficult living.”
Current Projects
These days, Amado continues to paint for AMFPA. He and his colleagues also hold exhibits and do school demonstrations upon invitation. Apart from a brief interlude with a local art organization, he hasn’t joined another since.
Where to Buy His Artwork
Those who wish to buy Filipino AMFPA members’ artwork may post inquiries at AMFPA Philippines’ Facebook or Instagram sites. Amado also sells his artwork independently: “My paintings that weren’t sold through AMFPA I’m selling from home,” he said.
The local AMFPA periodically holds seasonal exhibits, typically in shopping malls and medical centers, where patrons can buy members’ paintings, as well as art prints, Christmas cards, postcards, calendars, board games, bags, and decorative mugs.
The headquarters in Liechtenstein acquires the reproduction rights of member artworks for global distribution. The association also sells originals at exhibitions worldwide. Some of these have been showcased at the European Council in Strasbourg, France, and the United Nations Office in Geneva, Switzerland.
PWD Challenges
The typical problems of local PWDs are exploitation and disregard for their welfare. According to Amado, this is why there is a dearth of institutions like Tahanang Walang Hagdanan (House Without Stairs).
“We PWDs here don’t have the same privileges as our counterparts in countries like Japan, Switzerland, and Australia, who have the full support of their governments, with services like unemployment benefits,” Amado claimed during the production of the DLSU documentary. “We also lack PWD facilities. Disabled people have different levels of capacity. I don't have the same needs as people in wheelchairs or the blind.” Elevator panels in braille were virtually non-existent at that time. They are still a rarity in 21st-century Philippines. Fortunately, in some buildings, ‘elevator operators’ still exist.
The documentary cited though, that in 1983, the National Commission Concerning Disabled Persons passed Accessibility Law #344, which proposed the building of facilities for PWDs. Its motto was “The Key to a Barrier-Free World.” After five years, however, its activities stopped. Separately though, organizations now exist that assist specific sectors. For instance, the government offers special education, such as the Philippine National Schools for the Visually and Hearing Impaired.
Even now, though, the biggest challenge for PWDs is still the lack of employment opportunities. Local employers choose non-disabled people over PWDs due to economic reasons and convenience.
Amado claimed, “Society has a tendency to look down on disabled people. But not all of us are uneducated. Most of us completed our studies. Even so, disabled candidates are usually passed over for jobs in favor of ‘normal’ ones, even if both parties have the same educational qualifications.”
“I don’t blame them,” Amado mused. “If I were a business owner, who would I rather hire: someone I can send anywhere, or a PWD I would have to assist every time?”
In many developed countries, regulations compel businesses to reserve a percentage of national jobs for the disabled. The Philippines does not have such laws.
How He Deals With Obstacles
We asked Amado about life with disability to provide some insight to those unaware of PWDs’ struggles.
What difficulties in daily life as a PWD have you encountered? How did you solve them?
“When I was in college commuting daily from Cainta, Rizal (a different province) to the University of the Philippines in Quezon City (part of the National Capital Region)—a distance of 10.25 miles (16.5 kilometers)—I had to depend on the kindness of my fellow passengers in taking the fare out of my shirt pocket to hand over to the jeepney driver. It was embarrassing, but I had to develop a thick skin and ask because I saw no other way to go about it.”
Were you bullied? If so, how did you react to it?
“Yes—in my childhood. You cannot avoid being teased by children because that’s the way they are. The taunts stopped as I got older, but nowadays, if I hear something derogatory, I simply let it pass.”
Are you still being treated unfairly despite the new anti-discrimination laws? How do you deal with it?
“I still face discrimination, but I simply let the (unkind) comments pass into one ear and out the other.”
Were you ever angry with God or your parents for how you turned out?
“I don’t blame anyone for my disability. I’ve accepted that the way I am is the result of a bigger plan by the Divine Creator. Besides, I know there is a reason for everything.”
Were you discouraged? Did you ever feel sorry for yourself? How did you get over it?
“Yes, when I was younger. I was also shy because I was self-conscious of my physique. However, as the years passed, I realized that I would never advance in life if I remained in an eternal state of self-pity, so I steeled myself into facing my reality and strived to do whatever I could to the best of my ability.”
Soccer: a sport Amado gave up in college, thinking it too difficult for him to take up. But this image shows it’s possible for PWDs to engage in it. Nick Vujičić has all four limbs missing, yet he was able to play golf, throw tennis balls, swim, and skydive. Read about his incredible story here. |
What is your philosophy in life? Are you religious? If so, how do you worship?
“I believe in God. If there is creation, then there is a creator. I worship by going to mass and praying before sleeping and upon waking up.”
What do you want people to know about disability? How do you want them to treat you and other PWDs?
“We, the disabled, are also human beings. We just lack some things most people have. For some of us, parts of our bodies are missing or paralyzed. But in thought and inclination, we are the same as everyone. We are not crazy (and should not be regarded as such). Most people view PWDs with pity, but what we need is understanding. It’s easy to say, ‘I pity you,’ then get on with your (comfortable) life. But when you truly understand and sympathize with those of us with limitations, you will go out of your way to help us. We don’t need to be pitied. We simply want to be treated equally as regular members of society.”
What would you say to people who, despite having all their limbs and function “normally,” remain unemployed and unproductive?
“There really are many people like that here. That’s laziness. Or maybe they’re just content with that kind of life.”
Looking at the positive side, what are the benefits of being a PWD?
“You are lucky if there are kind souls who give you consideration.”
Which organization/government agency should PWDs consult for daily survival?
“If you’re a PWD, there are many organizations you can go to for assistance, but it’s better if you learn to help yourself and be independent. Add determination to that and, most of all, trust in the Lord Jesus.”
What are your recommendations to PWDs who are discouraged?
“You just need to call upon the Lord. You have to accept the truth about yourself—whatever your disability—because you cannot change what has already happened. So you need to do whatever it is in your capacity to do. But use the (proper) method to make money rather than begging if you are still able to make a living with your current abilities. It’s better for an individual (who is down on his luck) to sell tickets than to have him reach out to people with a tin can.”
What would you say to potential patrons of your work?
“I prefer that I become known for my craft and expertise in painting than because I paint with my feet. Don’t judge us. We (PWD artists) don’t insist or expect you to buy our paintings because you pity us. Buy our art because you truly think it’s excellent, of high quality, and something you can be proud of owning and showing off—not because we created it with our mouths or feet. Of what use is a piece of art produced with mouth or foot if it is of low quality?”
What are your hopes for the future?
“I’m content with my current existence because I’ve already accomplished my life goals, although I’ve realized only half of them. But I don’t desire rising any further. I’m grateful for whatever comes. Unlike other artists, I’m not one to brag if an accolade arrives in my life.”
How the Filmmakers Met the Artist
Our team came upon Amado’s story by chance. We were reminiscing about the good old days when our friend Mina brought up the subject of thesis projects and told us about theirs. We were struck by its theme, so we asked if we could view a copy. After we watched it, we realized how relevant the topic still is despite the video having been shot three decades ago.
We asked Mina how it came about. She related that while she and her thesis mates, Junie and Femy, were pondering over potential subjects for their thesis, Femy regarded with interest the Christmas cards her family was sending out that year. (Yes, kids, snail mail was still in force then. The internet wasn’t widely available yet.) The images on the cards were produced by artists who used either their mouths or feet to paint because they didn’t have arms. Each painting had the signature of the artist, so Femy got in touch with Amado, whose artwork caught her eye. Seeking him out was the start of the conceptualization of their documentary, which was voted the Best Thesis of the ComArts Department in September 1989.
Socioeconomic Consequences of Being a Destitute PWD in the Developing World
This article isn’t just a piece on college reminiscence; the topic is as apt today as it was then. As the documentary stated: “The physical limitations of the disabled are not as complex as the problems dealt by the evils of society.” This issue has prompted our team to investigate further.
It is widely known that syndicates often recruit indigent PWDs (though not all) to elicit pity and solicit funds. This reality is not limited to impoverished nations.
In the Philippines, the public’s view and treatment of persons with disabilities may have improved with initiatives from government agencies (like the Department of Social Welfare and Development, Social Security System, Department of Labor and Employment, and Government Service Insurance System), plus a few laws (the Magna Carta for Persons With Disabilities), but there is still a lot to be desired—as with other developing countries.
Amado shirked prosthetics as a child, but this photo shows it’s possible for PWDs to live with them daily. However, they shouldn’t be forced by doctors or family to use them. Ultimately, one has to choose which method of mobility one is comfortable with. |
For example, wheelchairs and walking aids are routinely stolen from poverty-stricken PWDs, but the police cannot prioritize dealing with it. That’s understandable, what with the drug-trafficking and murders and all. But this type of PWD-targeted crime (as well as the selling of donations by the PWDs themselves) is not isolated and is one of the reasons for the public’s hesitation to contribute equipment and money. How could charitable actions be repeated, let alone sustained, if assistance only comes to naught?
Case in point: Last year, our team donated bags of groceries to a street person with stumps in place of arms and legs. The next time we saw him, he reported that some thugs stole what we gave him, so he now hangs around the barangay hall [4] for protection instead of begging in front of stores.
What’s appalling about this scenario is that he is under the noses of public officials and employees day in and day out, yet his situation has remained unchanged! One would think his presence at a government institution would have improved his life once and for all.
Okay, maybe he doesn’t have a PWD ID [5] or birth certificate, so his personal information couldn’t be entered into the quagmire of bureaucracy. (The PWD ID is a requirement for availing discounts and state benefits. This is why most disabled poor cannot receive government assistance.) Perhaps he doesn’t have documents proving his indigence and PWD status. So what? Isn’t his disability obvious? Would it kill them to offer him a job where he wouldn’t have to use arms and legs, like say, the information desk? So many people are at the top with inflated salaries and outrageous benefits occupying redundant positions and they can’t offer him minimum wage or even a measly stipend?
Many unfortunate instances like the one above make it seem like the urban poor are the lowest priority when it comes to societal and law enforcement assistance, but underprivileged PWDs occupy an even lower rung on that invisible ladder. Amado is fortunate in that he had been rescued early on from joining these hapless victims of circumstances. Nonetheless, he is aware of their plight and seeks to help those he can despite his limited capacity.
"What I do to help (the disabled) is to teach those interested in painting, but they have to be patient,” he said. “Patient people are rare. Most local PWDs are engaged in radio and watch repair because it’s easy money and the task is not complex, unlike painting.”
Then and Now
During the DLSU documentary production, PWD problems included the lack of disability-friendly facilities, PWD-related education, social welfare, establishment of disability rights, equal opportunities (especially in employment), and funds for rehabilitation. Those needs were overlooked in Philippine society.
To be fair, the video was shot in 1989, so the situation with PWD-related services and facilities has greatly improved since. We asked Amado if the current environment is sufficiently PWD-friendly.
The documentary filmmakers: Junie (wearing a Guess tee), Femy (with scarf), and Mina with Amado and Lea
Since the DLSU documentary on you, the Philippine government has made improvements to the infrastructure of buildings to accommodate the needs of PWDs, like wheelchair ramps in hospitals and schools. It has also taken PWD concerns into account by providing social services and financial aid. PWD-centric organizations now exist. Do you think what they have done is enough? If not, what other things should local officials and institutions add?
“They have addressed some needs somehow, but from what I have observed, we still have a long way to go compared to what other countries are doing for their disabled citizens.”
We could take his word for it, but we wanted to know what is truly going on and what has been done so far. So we researched the current state of PWD concerns in the country to see if these really are not being totally addressed. We also wanted to know if Filipino PWDs indeed are less fortunate than their overseas counterparts. We will report on this in a future article.
Takeaway
“Many disabled people tend to lose hope, so they turn to easy ways of making money, like begging,” Amado observed. But he has proven that you don’t need to have complete body parts and intact faculties to earn a living, to obtain what you need and want, and to make a difference in this world.
Mina and company backed this up: “Disability doesn’t mean the degradation of one’s dignity. Amado, a creative painter, has found meaning in life through the application of his innate talent. From what he has expressed in our documentary, we have learned the value of determination in using our gifts and abilities to improve our station in life.”
The video also cited the United Nations’ recommendation: “What disabled people need is not a miracle that will wipe away their disabilities but equal treatment and the absence of bias.”
The Philippines may have a long way to go in being at equal footing with industrialized nations’ treatment of PWDs, but it has already made significant strides into addressing their plight. With the prodding of exceptional individuals like Amado Dulnuan, it will get there someday.
Some Resources for PWDs in the Philippines
Note: Some of the organizations mentioned in the lists may not be operational in 2023. Call, email, or PM them before visiting in person. Please use virus scanners before downloading any document from the web.
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Expat Scribe, the writer of this article, is also the author of the techno-thriller, “The Invisible Cyber Bully.” It is available on Amazon in ebook and print edition formats.
The novel tackles the surreptitious bullying and illegal surveillance, DNA-extraction, and experimentation on ordinary citizens by law enforcers, scientific laboratories, various “hidden” associations, and global authorities. Some chapters discuss the garden-variety bully from schools and neighborhoods. The book also features a primer on how to fight cyber bullying.
Sources:
[1] James H. Kim and Anthony R. Scialli, “Thalidomide: the tragedy of birth defects and the effective treatment of disease,” Toxicological Sciences, vol 122, issue 1, July 2011, pages 1-6.
[2] Mayo Clinic staff, “Thalidomide: Research advances in cancer and other conditions,” July 2021.
[3] Wohl et al, “Safety, Tolerability, and Pharmacokinetic Effects of Thalidomide in Patients Infected with Human Immunodeficiency Virus,” The Journal of Infectious Diseases, vol 185, issue 9, May 1, 2002, pages 1359–1363.
[4] In the Philippines, the barangay is the lowest elected administrative division under a city or municipality.
[5] Aubrey D. Tabugan, “Policy Awareness and Participation by Persons with Disability in the Philippines,” Philippine Institute for Development Studies, January 2013.
The Merck Manual of Medical Information, second home edition, New York: Pocket Books (Simon & Schuster), 2003, pages 1318, 1377.
Marella et al, “Rapid assessment of disability in the Philippines: understanding prevalence, well-being, and access to the community for people with disabilities to inform the W-DARE project,” Population Health Metrics, vol 14, article #26, 2016.
Video Credits:
Unawa, Hindi Awa (Understanding, Not Pity), De La Salle University Communication Arts Department, Taft Avenue, Manila, 1989
Director, writer, editor: Junie Torre
Cinematographer, narrator: Mina Syvilla-Torres
Co-writer, conceptualizer, soundtrack provider: Femy Pinto
Adviser: Grace Salibay
Others who helped with the production of the documentary included Batch ’89 alumni: Laureen Velasco and Rosemarie Riosa, plus DLSU—ComArts department staff: Carmen Natalicio and the late Ric Macapuno.
Photo Credits:
The artist provided all the images in this article, except for the following (in order of appearance):
introductory eagle photo: Sebastien Goldberg
eagle framed by branches: Marco Bicca
blind woman: Erin Li
child being bullied: Gerd Altmann
PWD soccer: Anas Aldyab
woman with prosthetic arm and hand: Anna Shvets
man with prosthetic leg: Lara Jameson
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