Context: I've written this as a simple reflection, and as an expression of resistance on my Facebook page. I write there mostly, and in Filipino, in order to be more accessible to everyday social media users, especially as this platform is a primary ground for both fake news peddling and political discourse. The elections in the Philippines point to a struggling democracy and state of values. GMF is an avenue that allows me to be more humane in my processing and be reaffirmed that we truly have to go beyond class struggles. We're all wounded. So what now? We do our best to choose love. We do our best to choose compassion. --- When love becomes a choice… I barely wear pink, thinking it “too girly.” And though I had issues with Disney’s Aurora from Sleeping Beauty, I preferred her wearing Merryweather’s blue version of her dress [circa 90s lol]. Anyways… I got to wear pink on special occasions like on my 7th birthday [See my cutie yet awkward photo lol]. Childhood can be both a spectacular and/or traumatic experience. Now as a peer support volunteer and human rights advocate, I get to see how a loving childhood is a crucial foundation to so many things: the ability to love in a freeing way; the ability to make courageous decisions albeit fear; the ability to move forward albeit the figurative yet gaping holes in the heart, especially after the passing of loved ones. Gratefully, despite having a rough school life, the best perk of my being a kid was getting to receive love abundantly. Now, being way older and approaching 30, I got to wear pink again – and again, for a special occasion. And yes, it was to campaign for a certain group of leaders/politicians. Others do not look positively on this and with valid reasons, being so jaded with systems and politics. But you see, we cannot limit our everyday efforts and belief in what is Good and True to our private lives and intimate circles. We all work hard and do our best – but we can dream bigger and include those who have been forgotten. And for those who have been systemically deprived of opportunities and their right to be involved in governance and democracy – this was a very real chance for them. We were all closer to having a government that would be closer at supporting our collective dreams and standing up for our rights. It won't be a perfect government – but it would have been closer to the people. I cannot count the number of urban poor leaders, drivers, youths and advocates of all ages and faith practices, including agnostics and atheists, who were expressing their hope through concrete everyday acts of kindness. All of these people are hardworking students, workers and leaders, but they knew that to have the government stand for what is Good and True would definitely be a game changer. But now, we all seem to fall short – more than 30 million have voted for a form of government that is drenched in blood. And so where is #RadikalNaPagmamahal (RadicalLoving)? It comes at the sad price of Love being a Choice, even at the absence of euphoria and in all this darkness. I’ve shared this with family members and friends who share in the exhaustion: Love is both a damning yet necessary choice.
And so I will continue to “wear pink.” And where doable, I would like to be on that middle-yet-ambitious-ground. Gently reminding those from the movement who are becoming exclusivists to remember to keep their eyes on the prize: good and inclusive governance and communities. I also recommend lots of #RadicalCare, rest, social media detox, paglalarga (travelling), time with loved ones, and crying as needed. Because dear ones, Love is a Choice. And with It comes hope, justice, peace and legit unity [pun intended?]. And for those who have forgotten history and undermined justice and hope, I hope to be a critical yet nonjudgmental listening ear to you. Because at the end, we were never enemies. Padayon ‘Ta. Mangarap. (Move Forward. Dream)
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Malunggay, otherwise known as Moringa or Drumstick Tree, is a tricky “vegetable” – at least to my grandmother. She knows how malunggay is a heavyweight in the vitamins and nutrients division, yet she’s aware that to cook it would take extra effort: sorting through and picking the leaves from the stalks, and then being extra careful with cleaning up after as the leaves could end up clogging the kitchen sink. When I was a migrant/overseas Filipino worker (OFW) in the UAE for almost three years, I was shocked to see how expensive the leaves from this Filipino backyard tree was, though the moringa I was seeing was probably an import from India as the plant was endemic there too. This morning, I found out my grandma had our backyard malunggay tree trimmed off of its high branches, as the foliage already seemed to be too think for her. After my cousin cut down the branches, the stalks were just left on our backyard floor, probably for composting soon. I was about to have an idea about it, but I had a long day ahead so I was reluctant: long part-time work hours, research for my upcoming graduate studies and professional certification, plus my GMF session. But it was precisely because of my GMF session that I had to at least squeeze what I thought was a crazy idea for most urban folks: to go around our neighborhood give out free malunggay. Though I love advocacy work and making meaningful connections, I’m mostly a semi-introvert by default. But I had to just try because:
Basically, to not even try to go beyond my comfort zone and express compassion through my actions would just leave me feeling like a hypocrite. The thing is, compassion, courage and striving can be quite contagious. And despite the emotional rollercoaster I end up riding from time to time due to the fellowship, I knew there was something meaningful in a diverse group of dreamers trying to grow within the realm of conscience and compassion. So why not give out free vegetables as a token of gratitude to the Universe – in addition to being a personal act of resistance against the norm of “why bother?” And so, I went around. Got to deliver a total of about one large basket of Malunggay leaves subdivided to about nine households. Some interesting snapshots of the experience:
This is a very simple social experiment, forced upon me by the circumstances of having to choose between the possibility of being rejected, or looking crazy as I give out free vegetables, versus the possibility of having a guilty conscience if I were to not even try. Certainly, there’s self-indulgence there because I knew I could gain the feeling of fulfilment if it were to go well. However, no action, whether well-planned or otherwise, would ever exist in silos. It will always be within a context and framing. But it will be up to us how to make sense of these internal and external prompts, along with various realities which can be questioned, but cannot be controlled. During this quick review of the day, I honestly believe I was “forced” by my conscience to give out free malunggay. For now, compassion for me seems to be more of a discipline – a collection of small and big acts of kindness and vulnerability. It’s still not a natural impulse as compared to a gradual unfolding. |
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September 2022
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