Gladys Vergara at the Baguio Leaders Forum: Poise, Purpose, and a Politics of Substance

BAGUIO CITY – In a forum often riddled with noise and nervous energy, congressional candidate Gladys Vergara emerged with rare composure and vision, delivering what many called the most grounded and forward-looking pitch at the Baguio Leaders Forum held in April 21, 2025, at the Apayao Hall, John Hay Convention Center.

Vergara didn’t shout. She didn’t attack. But somehow, she stole the show.

In a field of candidates – some brandishing family names, others clinging to long-past legacies – Vergara presented herself not as the next in line, but as a new direction. She acknowledged her roots, but stood on her own merit. 

“I myself have built my own advocacies,” she said, “I stood firm, even when no one was looking, and even when it was difficult to stand alone.”

It was an answer that stung – not because it was meant to hurt, but because it quietly revealed how many of Baguio’s leaders today are running on borrowed relevance.

Dynasties, Delicadeza, and the D-word No One Wants to Admit

One of the hottest issues at the forum was political dynasties – and here, Vergara didn’t blink. She took a clear stand: No to dynasties. In fact, she reminded the crowd that in 1992, she willingly stepped aside for her father, former Rep. Bernie Vergara, out of a sense of public accountability.

Compare this to Mauricio Domogan, who gave an almost nostalgic defense of his extended political reign, denying dynasties ever existed in Baguio. But for many in the audience, Domogan came across not as a veteran leader, but as a relic of a time that refuses to move on. 

“Trapong trapo ang dating,” one college student whispered on the way out. “He’s so old. It’s time to give the next generation a chance.”

And that’s precisely the contradiction many are starting to see: While politicians preach youth empowerment, they rarely practice it. The irony is thick – they call for young leaders from the podium, then make sure the stage stays crowded with familiar last names.

Mark Go, the outgoing congressman, was not spared from this tension. For all his talk about institutional reform, his decision to plunge his wife, Sol Go, into the brutal arena of electoral politics – despite her age and visible reluctance – left many wondering: Is this about service, or succession?

Even Sol, when asked about dynasties, fell back on the tired excuse of lacking an enabling law. And while she promised to sign a covenant to support deserving youth leaders, the optics were hard to ignore: two candidates, one household, and zero urgency to pass the torch.

Vergara, on the other hand, didn’t just say she believes in youth leadership – she showed it. Her ten-point agenda reflected long-term thinking and clear consultation, not just recycled campaign platitudes. From land titling and education to environment and charter revision, her proposals were thorough and specific.

What also stood out was her acknowledgment of grassroots experience. She cited her work with the Baguio Tourism Council – which has grown to encompass nine sectors and 28 sub-sectors – as the foundation of her understanding of the city’s complex problems. 

“They taught me the problems of Baguio,”  she said, “and gave me the courage to run.”

It was one of the few moments in the forum that drew spontaneous applause.

And when the clock ticked past 1:00 p.m., it was Vergara who still had the room’s full attention. In both English and Ilocano, she closed with a simple but searing reminder: 

“Election is not just about words. Election is trust.”

In a crowd of contenders banking on nostalgia, connections, or name recall, Gladys Vergara chose a different strategy: competence, courage, and a calm certainty about what kind of future Baguio deserves.

In this round, the woman in green wasn’t just present.

She showed up, stood out, and spoke up for a Baguio worth fighting for. And in a city longing for change, that may be more powerful than any dynasty, endorsement, or well-worn name could ever be.