I know your name, but who are you?

My last name being what it is, I grew up being asked, “Would you ever want a career in politics like your father?” The answer was always no, to which they would reply, “But you’re a Tatad! Na-mana mo rin yan. (You must have inherited it, too.)”

There is a huge difference between my father and me. He grew up in a small rural town in Bicol, where he crossed several mountains daily to get an ample education. In this town, he lived under a pseudo-democracy that installed a dynastic rule — all cousins, siblings, uncles, aunts, wives, and husbands taking their turn at the seat of power. It was in this town that he was struck by a call to service, one that tugs at him each time he’s ever attempted at a seat in office, and the one that strikes the few caballeros of our lifetime.

I, on the other hand, have never ever felt that call or urge or push. My own childhood was largely different in that I grew up surrounded by politics, and as a child, probably heard more behind-the-scenes stories than my father ever hoped to when he was the same age. My childhood was, in large part, observing the children of other politicians. Few would be like myself, opinionated but in no way built to pursue the career. What tends to happen is that a number of them take to the same field as their parents’, either by actual interest or by the family’s desire to maintain the “business.” After all, these kids are basically legacies, and with a voting culture that has long assured success by merit of ancestries or affiliations, it’s hard to turn down an almost-sure win.

The announcements of candidacy have been pouring in, all from potential candidates whose last names sound eerily familiar, and many of whom have their own presence in media coverage clouded by dead loved ones. Honestly, it’s bad enough that there is a trend of voting for the children/spouses/associates of well-loved political figures, but to treat our votes as a kind of abuloy sa patay (a usually monetary contribution for the relief of those who’ve lost loved ones) is truly ridiculous.

As insensitive as this may come to sound, I don’t want to hear sob stories about the dead, and not because I have no sympathy for your loss, but because I respect it. I respect it enough to have a few nuggets for some newsmakers who probably don’t care who I am when I say these things, but guess what, it’s coming at you anyway:

Bongbong (and any who write in support of the Marcos family), stop waxing sentimental about your dad’s overextended rule. Sure, some things may have been better, but there were also mountains of human rights violations and other crimes that have never been accounted for. You may have tried to make a mark on your own accord, but then you decided to run for the figurehead position of VP even without a presidential candidate. Who does that?

Grace Poe, stop saying you’re picking up where your dad left off, because here’s what he did: He had a stunning career, and he had a failed attempt at the presidency. Quit this talking point now because I’m guessing you’re not aiming for either. (And really, whatever cheating that may have occurred, whether or not that seat was rightfully his, FPJ didn’t serve in public office at any time. Period. The legacy to continue does not exist.)

Leni Robredo, don’t let them pigeonhole you into being Jesse’s widow. He was a great man and it was a terrible loss, but this should not be a talking point for your candidacy. Let him be mentioned once, but this is the time for us to see who you are and what you can do. And for God’s sake, banish the presence of the Playgirls and similar disgusting campaign bait.

I don’t think I’m alone when I say that I’m tired of candidates whoring around the names of those who made a mark and died fighting for their cause. We don’t want your last names recited over and over, because in the coming months, they’ll be plastered on every wall anyway. The purpose of this campaign season isn’t to remind us of what your name is, but to show us who you are. We want candidates who can bring their own singular qualifications outside of their affiliations to the table, who have a plan and an interest to actually serve.

Let me also be so bold as to say that it’s enough that the candidate in question has a résumé. Having a track record for being in some kind of elected or appointed office doesn’t necessarily make you the best choice. For instance, Manny Pacquiao reportedly spent a total of four days present in the House of Representatives. Under any case of employment, that is unacceptable, least of all as one of our legislators. I love you as an athlete, Manny, and damn Mayweather to hell, but show some respect for the taxpayers and for the position you asked to be elected into.

Another prime example is recently-resigned MMDA chair Francis Tolentino. He sat in that office from 2010 to 2015, the duration in which your travel time from Quezon City to Makati took on the length of a flight from Manila to Davao. Five years of basically ineffective service and the man wanted to take on a senatorial position under LP. Um, what now? The best part of this is that he didn’t even withdraw until this whole Playgirls twerking hullabaloo, which, while disgusting, might merit sending the girls a “thank you” card.

Senator Sotto, in 2011, barred the sale of poppy seeds because of their drug content. (Watch an episode of Mythbusters, dude. It took them the consumption of an entire poppy seed loaf before the drug test even registered the very mild presence of opiates.) In similar food-related news, Bohol representative Rene Relampagos in 2014 used some of that Congressional time lobbying for the naming of adobo as our national dish.

This is where your taxpayer income is going, when you hope against hope that they’re improving the MRT or finding a scheme to help break up existing traffic or finding a way to provide the other millions of Filipinos who have nothing with basic necessities. The point here is that this is already something we know: We do not owe anyone our votes because they have grieved a great loss or because they look good on paper. We have to vote because these people have proven that they can make a difference.

We keep begging for something different, for something more substantial, and that responsibility is ours. If we look at the landscape of our national political climate, we can see what change has happened and where, and I’m guessing the little progress that has happened in certain areas is largely in thanks to the fact that we keep installing the same people in office. If we continue to elect these absolute children who see themselves as rightful owners of higher positions rather than servants of a 98 million-strong population, we are ourselves courting disappointment.

In 2016, we have a chance to make a change. October is still upon us, and we ask the few good men hesitating before running for office to go ahead and make that leap. We are here ready to make a choice, but we are asking for better choices. We are tired of the same (pardon my French) sh*t every day that leaves us hopeless and beaten down. We need something different, we want something different, and our voices are finally, finally loud.