March 27, 2011
To my 30-year-old self,
I don’t know if, ten years from now, you’ll remember the day of your twentieth birthday. But here’s what you should know: that day, it was raining. That day, you went and got sushi with a couple of good friends and explored a part of San Francisco you’ve never been to before. That day, in English 214, you’re professor taught you something important; that when you’re young, you have all the time in the world to accomplish everything you want to accomplish, but as you grow older, time moves faster. After two decades of living, you understood, at that moment in your English 214 class, that it was no longer time to wait for the future to come—it was time to take charge of the future and make it everything you wanted it to be.
So, the first thing you went and did to mark your hopes for the future was get your first tattoo, the one on your right wrist. Do you remember what it stands for, and why you got it? Ka, the bridge, the understanding that everything and everyone is connected in some way. You got it because you understood that connection, and you felt it always important to keep that piece of information in mind. You also got it so that you could become the bridge. You found your passion in community organizing and helping others, and you knew that in such an environment, it was important to make solid connections with others. By permanently marking yourself with ka, and by putting it on your right arm (the arm you use to shake hands with when meeting new people) there was no way you could ever forget that.
You also told yourself that you would make San Francisco your home. You would live in the Sunset, the Excelsior, or the Mission, and there you would help the community by helping the youth of the community. You, who had found what she was looking for in Ethnic Studies, wanted to spread that knowledge to others, who needed to know the truth. You wanted to take a place that didn’t have much hope and give it everything.
And while you were working to help others, you planned to go to graduate school, to attain your master’s in Ethnic Studies. You weren’t sure what you would do with the degree, but you knew that having it would help you out somehow later on. You knew that your education would not end after just four years, and you made it a point to be the first in your family to get your master’s (and maybe even your doctorate).
Then, you saw yourself leaving the Bay, to learn more about communities similar to your own. You decided that you wanted to go to Hawaii because of your family’s roots there. You wanted to better understand what they went through growing up there. You also wanted to better understand the history of the islands, the struggles of the islanders, and how you could turn things around for them. You wanted to bring ethnic studies to Hawaii.
But Hawaii wasn’t the only place you wanted to go. You saw yourself living in Brooklyn, maybe New Orleans, then visiting Seattle, Washington DC, Chicago, and Georgia. You knew for sure that you would somehow make it to the Philippines, to see the farm Nanay and Tatay left behind. You would also learn more about your Dad’s family history, a history that you have found difficult to obtain.
You decided you would become fluent in Tagalog and Spanish, two languages you felt you needed to know to reach out to others, to become that bridge. You would continue to work at your poetry and spoken word. And you dreamed of writing a very important book, a story about the struggles of a modern-day Filipino family, a novel that would change mainstream America’s conceptions of Filipina and Filipina American womyn.
All of this, you dreamed of accomplishing when you were only twenty years old. So, thirty-year-old me, looking back at the past ten years of your life, what of these things have you accomplished? Even if they weren’t included in this letter, what strides have you made? Of course, ten-year plans are meant to be changed as life goes on, but have you stayed true to who you are and what you believe in? Do you still believe in ka?
I hope this letter doesn’t find you troubled, because you were unable to get to most of these goals, or you forgot. Instead, I hope that you see this letter and gain some sort of perspective from hearing from your twenty-year-old self and what she believed in. Or, maybe you were able to accomplish everything and more, and your twenty-year-old self got it all right. Either way, I hope that you are healthy, happy, and you take time for yourself. I love you dearly and I only hope the best for you.
Love always,
20-year-old you
021711/a journey to find balance
Walked into Dan's office today to get my independent study papers signed, only to find Not Dan sitting in his chair. He invited me in and told me Dan would be back shortly. Normally, such encounters would be awkward; normally, I would just wait outside in the hall until Dan came back. But for some reason, I agreed to sit in the tiny office with a complete stranger.
It's weird how things work out like that sometimes. We got to talking and actually learned a lot about each other. Not Dan told me about this ambitious project he's undertaking that starts with some community awareness about street names, mixes with a bit of controversy, and ends with a better understanding of U.S. relations with the Philippines and other third-world countries. I told him about my major (and minor), the archive, my plans for the future, and my complicated relationship with my parents about said future. And even though we had never met before that moment, we were talking like old friends. The conversation went from political to personal and everywhere in between, and we had similar levels of understanding on all fronts. About half-an-hour passed and finally Dan came back. Then Not Dan looked at me, hand outstretched, and said, "Oh hey, I'm B, by the way."
I had never before met someone where the conversation came so naturally, where the exchange of words felt so nice, and the need to learn about each others content was greater than the need to know each others names. I could see the passion in B's eyes when he described his project to me, and I was genuinely interested. And I could feel his empathy for me when I told him about my parents, because he himself had experienced similar situations with his own. And when we talked politics, we found ourselves on the same page, seeing the world with the same set of eyes. It's refreshing to meet people with the same passions as me. Kasama.
It's encounters like these, when I feel like I've met a true brother of the movement, that I feel like I'm making the right choices, taking the right path in life. Meeting other people who are fighting for the same thing as me gives me hope and tells me to keep going. Hopefully, B and I will meet again. Maybe I can even help him with his project in the future. But even if we never talk again, I know I will meet other people like him. In this field of work, it's inevitable. Kasama.
It's weird how things work out like that sometimes. We got to talking and actually learned a lot about each other. Not Dan told me about this ambitious project he's undertaking that starts with some community awareness about street names, mixes with a bit of controversy, and ends with a better understanding of U.S. relations with the Philippines and other third-world countries. I told him about my major (and minor), the archive, my plans for the future, and my complicated relationship with my parents about said future. And even though we had never met before that moment, we were talking like old friends. The conversation went from political to personal and everywhere in between, and we had similar levels of understanding on all fronts. About half-an-hour passed and finally Dan came back. Then Not Dan looked at me, hand outstretched, and said, "Oh hey, I'm B, by the way."
I had never before met someone where the conversation came so naturally, where the exchange of words felt so nice, and the need to learn about each others content was greater than the need to know each others names. I could see the passion in B's eyes when he described his project to me, and I was genuinely interested. And I could feel his empathy for me when I told him about my parents, because he himself had experienced similar situations with his own. And when we talked politics, we found ourselves on the same page, seeing the world with the same set of eyes. It's refreshing to meet people with the same passions as me. Kasama.
It's encounters like these, when I feel like I've met a true brother of the movement, that I feel like I'm making the right choices, taking the right path in life. Meeting other people who are fighting for the same thing as me gives me hope and tells me to keep going. Hopefully, B and I will meet again. Maybe I can even help him with his project in the future. But even if we never talk again, I know I will meet other people like him. In this field of work, it's inevitable. Kasama.
021611/extremes
It's either I have too much to do or nothing at all. Where is the fucking balance?
Excuse the frustration. Right now, it's nothing at all. Tomorrow is another story. But right now, right now I feel like I need to add more to my already busy plate. I need to join an org, get more involved in the community. Maybe LFS? ANAKBAYAN? BAYANUSA? I applied for a job at school. I have plans to write a novel. I'm thinking of doing a self-discovery project. I am considering taking on some sort of big project for the archive, cause Lord knows we always needa get shit done. Maybe I'll do grant writing. I hate this feeling, of being...stagnant.
I actually do have a lot to do. It's just stuff I don't want to do, stuff I could care less about. School always takes second banana to life. School has just never been so draining and lifeless as this semester. And when I mean school, I really only mean English. I hate that class.
Okay, it's out of my system. Good night.
Excuse the frustration. Right now, it's nothing at all. Tomorrow is another story. But right now, right now I feel like I need to add more to my already busy plate. I need to join an org, get more involved in the community. Maybe LFS? ANAKBAYAN? BAYANUSA? I applied for a job at school. I have plans to write a novel. I'm thinking of doing a self-discovery project. I am considering taking on some sort of big project for the archive, cause Lord knows we always needa get shit done. Maybe I'll do grant writing. I hate this feeling, of being...stagnant.
I actually do have a lot to do. It's just stuff I don't want to do, stuff I could care less about. School always takes second banana to life. School has just never been so draining and lifeless as this semester. And when I mean school, I really only mean English. I hate that class.
Okay, it's out of my system. Good night.
112810/truth's out
Hello blog,
I haven't forgotten about you, promise. I've just been cheating on you with the younger, better-looking tumblr. (insert GASP here). But I promise you, it's just not the same. I love you both, but in very different ways. I know you might find it hard to forgive me, but I promise I will make things work between us.
BUT, I am not giving up my tumblr. Wah wah wah.
I haven't forgotten about you, promise. I've just been cheating on you with the younger, better-looking tumblr. (insert GASP here). But I promise you, it's just not the same. I love you both, but in very different ways. I know you might find it hard to forgive me, but I promise I will make things work between us.
BUT, I am not giving up my tumblr. Wah wah wah.
091910/introverts
This weekend I was reminded of the joys of doing things on your own. Had a little solo trip into the city on Saturday and I can't say I didn't love it. The combination of uncertainty in a place I've never been to before and the freedom of venturing around by myself was both scary and exhilarating.
I must admit that I've gotten used to having another body around me to draw my courage and the thought of real independence somewhat scares me. But not having my usual crowd around to depend on was a pleasant surprise in words I can't seem to find. A different point of view emerges when you are on your own than when you are with a friend or two.
I can't wait to make San Francisco my city. And after that; the world.
I must admit that I've gotten used to having another body around me to draw my courage and the thought of real independence somewhat scares me. But not having my usual crowd around to depend on was a pleasant surprise in words I can't seem to find. A different point of view emerges when you are on your own than when you are with a friend or two.
I can't wait to make San Francisco my city. And after that; the world.
091510/educate
Check it.
Proof that undocumented immigrants aren't actually the reason behind the failing economy. And, in reality, never were. Don't believe everything the media tells you.
Proof that undocumented immigrants aren't actually the reason behind the failing economy. And, in reality, never were. Don't believe everything the media tells you.
090410/reflections
Hello. Life is good.
I woke up the other morning and checked the time on my cell phone like I normally do. Upon doing this, I saw my reflection in the blank screen and have ever since been inspired to do a self-portrait. Now all I need to do is get on that shit.
Interested? We'll talk.
I woke up the other morning and checked the time on my cell phone like I normally do. Upon doing this, I saw my reflection in the blank screen and have ever since been inspired to do a self-portrait. Now all I need to do is get on that shit.
Interested? We'll talk.
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