"Misautogeny"

I have not been long in the training industry and I am still building my credentials and reputation so I am a bit uneasy when one Igorot organization invited me to conduct a personality development training for them. Not that I am not confident with my craft but I am unsure of the best approach to use. Every good trainer will first study the demographics of the intended audience to calibrate the training and come up with better impact. Ironic that I am one of them yet I am not sure how to deal with them.The fact that I was unpopular and unappreciated back at my hometown may have conditioned me to be too aloof of the idea of doing my thing with my own people.

Among those who attended the training, only the person who recommended my services was aware that I am an Igorot. Even during the introduction, I have not made an effort to tell the crowd where I came from and what my ethnicity is. I am afraid that making it known to them might affect how they view me as a trainer. I am not sure where I have picked that absurdity but it sure stuck in my mind that time.

A day passed and the training went smoothly. There are times that the participants struggled on expressing their thoughts in English or Tagalog but I opted not to reach out using our local vernacular. The revelation only came during the open forum. While soliciting questions from the crowd, this old gentleman kept asking something and had this difficulty to phrase it in English- I was touched by his desire to learn that I forgot my inhibitions. I asked him in the local tongue what he wanted to know and he laughed. Everyone laughed and asked why I know their dialect. I just smiled and asked the old man about his question.

At the end of the training, the moderator asked the leaders to deliver the usual speeches of gratitude to the resource speakers and those who attended. The old gentleman did talk and what he said touched me even more.

 "I am very glad that one among us can do something that you just did"

On some other occasions, these words might be too ordinary to hear. But hearing it from the old man with all the sincerity and respect made me very happy. Somehow the feeling of acceptance and appreciation from someone of your kind made all those doubts go away. I am not sure if a similar group will ever invite me again, but I am sure that should that chance come again- I will have no fears.  

Perks of Graduating from a Small School

Nine long years and I look back at the time when all my emotions were unbridled and all hormones raging- high school graduation. Although I was a nobody there, I am grateful that I studied in a small public high school. Not because I have smaller competition academically but because I was able to build relationships with my classmates. We do keep that special circle of friends but I know all my classmates on a personal level. In a class of less than 60, 2 sections since first year- I share a lot of memories with them. I can still recall the speech of the batch valedictorian stressing how after so many years, we will look back at both the happy and sad memories with a smile.

Being the introvert that I am, I do not have a lot of strong friends. Should I have been in a bigger school with more students, I might have been pushed to the side where nobody can remember me a year after high school. Nine years passed and I still have vivid recollections for each of my former classmates. Graduation day was a sad day for me. Graduations are a bit grand in the barrios, it is an opportunity to show off the cooking skills of mothers. After the ceremonies, all the graduates will go from house to house to partake of what each graduate prepared. Even if each house prepared all the same dishes, there is always room for some. 

Proof to my lack of friends is the number of people who came at my house. Only three of them came and might not have if not for the reason that they are too ashamed not to join me when I was with them the whole picture taking sessions. Looking at my graduation pictures, I have only 2 pictures with my teachers which is a testimony how distant and unpopular I was. Nevertheless I enjoyed high school graduation. It seems to be a portal for me to a wider selection of memories- memories when I was younger and is still dreaming where will I be. True enough, I look at all the memories whether happy or sad with a smile. Those are all the building blocks of what I am right now. 

Arte Mio

There was a time in my career when I felt like I was not needed at all- that what I was doing felt like way below standards. Have you ever felt that dispensable in a job? I decided to resign despite the fact that it was nearing the Yuletide season then. I passed my resignation and the big boss talked to me. He was the prime reason for me to stay on that job as he was gentle yet sharp on the job- caring yet unyielding in his pursuit for excellence. For a first job after college- this sort of a protective boss is a dream come true.

He left the job earlier than I did. He left us individual gifts and cards inscribed with his personal greetings. It was not the ordinary-generic greeting cards sent by bosses to their subordinates. All these years, I occasionally take it out of the box and read it. It never fails to restore my faith in my capabilities and assure me that someone- at least at one point in time is genuinely appreciative of my efforts. I have extended on that job for some months where I believe I have left a good impression- thanks to his letter that inspired me a lot.

Today that I am at crossroads, I took time to read the letter again. I cried just like before. Not because of the fact that I have satisfied my desire for some assurance but because of a deeper realization that I have long ignored. Together with his thought of assuring me that I am doing good is the effort to make me understand that the situation is two way. It should not be all about me- there is also that job i will leave who might value me but failed miserably to show it. I must not always be on the look for the protective boss for why can't I be the protective employee this time? I must not always yearn for explicit appreciation for at the end of the day,  what would matter would be the self fulfillment.

Years and distance might have separated us but he continuously inspires me with this letter that constantly reminds me of humility, of feeling content despite everything, and of sensitivity to others. He had also left me with a set of friends that I know I can keep for life. Like me, they were touched by his warmth. I will never regret having met him. I look to him although he may never knew how much it means to me that our paths crossed once upon a time.

The One That Got Away

How awkward can it be to see that your best friend is bound to be married to the man you have loved the most in your life? I used to laugh at dramas like this for I was thinking that once the mind gets over things, the heart gets over too. I guess I was wrong again for no matter how much I deny the truth, it is true that I feel envious towards a friend who will be marrying soon the one that got away. The endless barrage of "what ifs" still haunt me every time I see them together.

I will not play the part of the bitter gourd who will make the lives of the protagonists miserable by spending everything on my disposal just to prove my pain. For it is just a slight pain- a pinch in the heart that reminds you of possibilities with the one that got away. Endless questions whether you could have been happier and more fulfilled if you could have pushed for your feelings harder. Painful it is but not bitter. I do find joy in the realization that my friend will be happy and that they are fit together. Ironic that you wish them well yet somewhere in your heart you wish that the situation could have been better if partners can be interchanged.

It will be so much fun if they will invite me to their wedding. I might come in full regalia. I might come with the band. I might come with all the boldness I can gather.  I might put my best game face on and greet the newly weds while looking intently at the guy expecting him to react the same way I imagined. Am I sounding bitter now? Maybe not attending at all is a better option. No reasons for them to invite me anyway and no chances for any seed of bitterness within my heart to be liberated. Hoping someday, all the pain that is there no matter how small will be the one that will go away. 

Shapes and Shades

Up until a few months ago, I was convinced with the idea that being an isko or an iska is a guarantee that you are better exposed and more aware of the array of life. Having tagged ourselves as the cream of the crop and also as a progressive breed, we among all the academic institutions are the best examples of what open-mindedness can really become. My university life actually deconstructed my idea of conservatism as the conservatives we have at the university are a far cry from those outside. I have embraced my sexuality because of these beliefs.Little do I know that I am bound to be disappointed by this expectation tagged at most iskos. 

Imagine the shock I had when I learned that an anti-gay crusade pitched against me is being masterminded by a fellow iska. I have been through a lot of crusades against homosexuals and have managed to survive them all. For most of those I have encountered are waged by religious fanatics and bordering hypocrites. I even had one crush whom I professed love and who advised me in response that God has better plans for us. If all rejections are wrapped this way, I will not mind having them everyday. I also do not mind dismissing these detractors for I understand deeply where they are coming from.

I can not seem to find the source of motivation for this fellow iska. At every opportunity she gets, she will be ranting at how having a homosexual in an organization corrupt morals, image and decency. Are the gays rare during her prime that she is not aware of the fact that gays are just like bitches who come in various shades and shapes? I have not read a single scientific paper equating homosexuality with lack of decency, propriety, morality and whatever dogma they want to believe on but fail to act out. What is surprising is she gets to have some people agree of her bidding.

Just like gays, iskos and iskas come in various shades and shapes too. Hers is swinnish with the dominant color black. If I may borrow a line from a NA movie, "may sakit ang Diyos nung pinanganak ka."

Emancipation

It is always said that the best measure of how you love someone is how easily you can let them go despite loving them so much. Without selfishness, it is always possible to let go of someone even if they have occupied special compartments in our lives. This Yuletide season I look back and realize that letting go is the best gift I have ever given to a friend.

The isolation in an island creates more opportunities for an individual to ponder up on things- to be more reflective. It is on that same state I am in now. For the first time, I am reflective yet not regretful of how I steered my life this year. Living in isolation makes you appreciate minute details- that within huge mess ups are small reasons to be happy. It is during this reflective state that I have thought of the moments where I have bestowed my best of gifts.

I left my job about two months away from Christmas. Initially I have thought that I am only doing it to advance my interests, now I have thought that there are other reasons. I know they are grateful that I have finally voluntarily vacated a post that has long been consuming expenses yet not putting in return. I do admit to that fact given the peculiar set-up of where I used to be employed.

I bade goodbye to an old love this year- for the last time. I have hurt him in the past for very selfish reasons. I have easily done that yet have painstakingly made lame efforts to ask for forgiveness. His demise reminded me of how late things can be if left for tomorrow. He gave me the gift of freedom and I gave him the gift of eternity in my memories.

I also severed ties with an old friend. Maybe now my friend will not understand it but in the future she will. Painful as it is but it is worth the thought that a person dear to you is free from the shackles of the dark past. We can never move on with some fragments of the dark side passively threatening to spoil what we enjoy now. I have given her the gift of freedom and she has given me the gift of being part of her colorful life. We all have that friend we will regret losing and the only things we can hope is for them to find better friends who can occupy the void we vacated. 

Open Doors and Little Glasses

Back in my undergraduate years, I have this burning desire to graduate and find a job. Way back then there were no stronger desires than finding a job that will make me happy. Now I have one and had two other good jobs before yet I can not find that level of satisfaction I have once imagined to be present. Maybe those younger dreams are pushed by the desire to be out in the world and conquer harder challenges. Indeed, being part of the workforce is a harder challenge- boss being so demanding, people too judging, no sense of fulfillment and achievement and disproportionate compensation for the effort spent. 

I am in my mid-twenties and my friends usually ask me why am I still studying. I give a simple answer- to find some source of fulfillment and self worth.  As slaves of this capitalist world, we strive and give our best and what do we get in return? material compensation that can not buy a lot of things. Happiness, satisfaction, security, love and all the other things that we feel are missing in our lives. We end up straining ourselves only to find out that what we have worked for is not giving the returns we are expecting. There is also the fact that office rules and regulations are sometimes too restricting. Maybe studying in a liberal school made me uncomfortable of these discriminating restrictions.

Today I submitted a half-baked research paper for my final exams. Half-baked it is yet I am sure that I will be happy with the grade that I will receive because it would be commensurate of what I have exerted. So much fairness isn't it? When at work, do you always feel that? Do you always get the credit you deserve? Are you never sick of office politics? If working is a big glass and satisfaction is the water that would fill it, I can never fill it up in one go.