I went to a yin yoga and raw food workshop over the weekend. It was actually the perfect way to start a long overdue new year’s detox that’s been on my to do list.

Yin yoga is my most favorite yoga. It’s not an active, yang type of yoga that many people are familiar with like ashtanga, vinyasa, or iyengar. Yang is associated with action, fire, and initiative, where yin is a passive, receiving, introspective form of yoga. No engaging muscles or sitting up straight. In fact, you’re letting everything go and you hold that inaction of letting go in each pose for several minutes. All that’s left is you to observe and accept. It’s extremely meditative.

There are yin and yang forms of yoga just like there are also yin and yang types of love. Valentine’s Day is very yang, a very demonstrative holiday for expressing love. And of course the yin manifestation of that would be receiving it.

As Asian women, we’re very good at the selfless yang – putting family first and fulfilling expectations that others have of us first. Valentine’s Day can also be your Happy Yin Day for graciously receiving the love you receive from others, and also holding that yin and yang totality within yourself, giving yourself love and graciously receiving it. Steeping in it even.

Here are some Happy Yin Day practices you can do for every day of the year beyond Valentine’s.

• Graciously receive the love you receive from others with a thank you and let it resonate within. That means no deflecting or negating when someone compliments you. Imagine that your voice is in your heart center and say thank you from there.
• Write down everything you appreciate about yourself and the positive feelings you associate with them. As you inhale, say to yourself “I appreciate ________________ about myself,” and as you exhale, send those positive feelings directly to your heart center. Do this for several inhales and exhales.
• Write down all the acknowledgments that you long to receive. You may receive them already or they may be ones you have yet to receive. Really settle into the feelings you want to feel from hearing them. Then, as above, say these acknowledgments to yourself in the form of “I am _________________” as you inhale. As you exhale, send those positive feelings directly to your heart center. Do this for several inhales and exhales.

Share your reflections and observations in the comments. I’d love to know.

It was my birthday last week, and to celebrate, I made a badge for my internal self doubt. That’s right, you heard correctly.

I put a lot of pressure on myself to succeed, like RIGHT NOW. I crack the pressure whip on myself like there’s no tomorrow. Sometimes to the point where the stress robs me of good sleep or I wake up feeling anxious and saying Hail Mary’s. That’s the scary part because I ditched being Catholic way long ago.

As if the suffocating pressure from my parents to succeed way back in the day wasn’t enough, I’ve internalized it and pummel myself with it just fine. Who needs hardass Asian parents anymore?

There’s this project I’ve been scheming and outlining for a while, and when it came to hunker down to get some work done – PRESSURE! – I got stuck, and all of a sudden cleaning seemed more appealing. There didn’t seem to be any way to get around the roadblock, so decided to find out what this particular roadblock wanted.

One of my favorite bloggers, Havi, converses with her monsters that get her stuck. I thought I’d give it a shot. My friend Aimee immediately came to mind to negotiate .

Conversing with the Doubt Monster

Doubt Monster: I don’t think you know what you’re doing. You’re obviously stuck. Who are you to try to tackle such a big thing? No one will listen to you. No one reads your blog even.

Aimee: That’s not true. She’s got people reading her blog. Who says no one will listen anyway?

Doubt Monster: We do. No one cares about what she does. We make her feel alone, like no one cares.

Aimee: She needs all the support she can get. Do you know how innovative her work is and what she’s doing? She’s a pioneer. Do you know how hard that is already?

What is your fear here?

Doubt Monster: We don’t want her to look stupid. Like she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Like she doesn’t have the answers.

Aimee: We’ll other professionals don’t have the answers either, not the same ones at least, or else they would have done the same project already. What would it take for you to give her a chance?

Doubt Monster: We’re not sure her experience is enough. Especially when real skilled people will be watching.

Aimee: I understand. You want her to look good, to look like a professional.

Doubt Monster: Yes.

Aimee: What if you could trust Lydia’s own expertise? She knows a lot you know. You have her so scared that she doesn’t think she has anything to offer.

Doubt Monster: What will all the old people say? All the API center directors, all the Filipino Community Center Directors? They only want credentials.

Aimee: It sounds like it’s not an issue of what Lydia knows or doesn’t know. It sounds like you’re really concerned with how people will accept what she has to offer and her credibility.

Doubt Monster: Yes. Who is she anyway to do this project that will help these young Asian Americans who really need it. We don’t want her to go through all that.

Aimee: What if we made her a super shiny credential that no one could question? Like an ironclad so-and-so hooty-who expert badge that she could shine in the face of all those who question her?

Doubt Monster:  Could it be so shiny and hooty-who that she could rob a bank with it? We’d really like to go on vacation, actually.

Aimee: Why don’t we make a badge for you guys too. You can rob all the banks you want with it and go on vacation.

Doubt Monster: Ok.

On not being a shiny overachiever

I’m not a typical Asian overachiever. Not the typical kind who gets shiny status at least. I’m not the professional whatever with my own home and respectable job title and I don’t follow the rules of shiny overachieverness, especially in the uber-degree holding league.

Don’t get me wrong, though, because I put the pressure on myself is if I was playing the same game. And in the end, there is the part of me that wants a nod from the people who uphold Asiatic shiny overachiever land, a part of me who wants acknowledgment for being innovative and thinking outside of the box. A nod for being legitimate even though I’m not as shiny.

So this badge is for you, my lovely Doubt Monster. I have it at the ready to flash whenever you feel scared that I’m not shiny enough. I also want you to know that my game is in a completely different ballpark, where shiny points aren’t currency.

Hyphen Magazine launched an important new column called Ask A Model Minority Suicide, that talks about the pressure that second generation Asian Americans experience from their immigrant parents to succeed. Not only is the pressure often times too much, it contributes to suicide and depression among second generation Asian Americans, particularly women.  Also check out this article from the same writer.

I’ve talked about the pressure to be perfect in this blog before here and here. Since this is a serious problem in the Asian American community, I’ve started compiling a resource list. I’ve emailed API service centers, individual therapists, and asked family and friends if they knew of any resources that second generation Asian Americans can access for depression and suicide. I’m posting what I find in the links section of this website. You can also visit Hyphen Magazine’s list as well.

It’s been a rough week. A week full of overwhelm and being stuck. A week of feeling alone. It’s Thanksgiving and I’m not spending it with my family. I’ve been working on a blog post that just won’t come out. I’ve come across an energetic hurdle.

I’m thankful for a hero blogger of mine, Havi, who generously and compassionately shares her process. I’m thankful for Larisa Koehn who wrote a poignant piece, On Feeling Alone – Together. I’m thankful to find voices such as theirs that inspire me to open my heart more courageously when I feel like I’m shutting down.

I associate gratitude with abundance. This year’s Thanksgiving is about acknowledging all the generous people who enrich my life daily whom I only know from their tweets and blog posts. It’s about acknowledging those who are physically in my life and never cease to amaze me with their generosity and love. What I receive from them is so much more abundant than the challenges of a rough week. And for that I am truly grateful.

This article about language loss in Indonesia made me revisit this previously unpublished post on language loss among second generation Filipino-Americans. Both of my parents are Tagalog speakers and didn’t teach Tagalog to me or the sister born directly before me. We were both born in the States. My two oldest sisters who immigrated with my parents are Tagalog speakers and they didn’t speak Tagalog to their children either.

While still an undergraduate student, I received a fellowship and an additional scholarship to study Pilipino language at the Southeast Asian Summer Studies Institute (SEASSI) at the University of Wisconsin, Madison. The 8-week program was the equivalent of one academic year of Pilipino language study. The opportunity to study my own language held an intense, bittersweet mix of feelings for me: excitement and anger for having to learn it as opposed to being raised speaking Tagalog. When I told my mom that I was going to study Tagalog, her response was, “Why don’t you learn something that will help you?” Needless to say, my excitement was crushed.

The actual language instruction was excellent, except there was no space for the Filipino-American students to acknowledge and talk about the shame of language loss and what it meant as a Filipino-American to learn your native dialect. That to me is a critical component for native learners. No matter how much I brought it up, the issue went unacknowledged. There was no critical pedagogy for Pilipino language instruction when it came to Filipino-American learners, especially around shame and the issue of language loss. The instructors, who were from the Philippines, as academically skilled and experienced as they were, actually had more experience teaching white people than actual Filipinos.

Learning Tagalog or whatever your native Philippine dialect is isn’t easy as a Filipino-American because it doesn’t come with a family support system for learning. You don’t get any encouragement and if your family is like mine, attempts to speak are immediately met with criticisms of your pronunciation. And then there’s what I call the asshole Filipinos, the ones who question your Filipino-ness because you don’t speak a Philippine dialect or they assign you the shame and blame for not knowing it.

I ran into this in the Bay Area several years ago. The thing is not all Filipino communities in America are as organized as the Bay Area’s Filipino community in offering language classes.

There’s a very intentional displacement that immigrant parents create between second generation Filipino-Americans and their language. But more than fears of being teased and chastised for having an accent, many Filipino immigrants believe that their dialect has no value once they immigrate. I’ll even argue that the decision to not pass on the language is made before immigrating.

And those Filipinos who choose to pass on their dialect or continue to speak it with their children who immigrate at a young age are the exception, not the rule. And a very special exception at that.

I grew up in an all white school district during elementary and junior high school. With the constant tokenism and taunting that I experienced for being Asian, I needed support and positive reinforcement of my identity, not to be kept from it. I needed my language. I needed a place in my community and language would have given me that anchoring.

Surprisingly, Filipinos in the Philippines are very forgiving of balikbayans who don’t speak their native dialect. In fact, many wonder why Filipino-Americans would even want to come back.  With English still the lengua franca when it comes to education and a colonial mentality still very much in tact, it’s no wonder why.

What does it say about Filipino culture and the broader community that the language is not valued enough to be passed on? What does it say about community when, at least in my case, there is not a lot of support as a Filipino-American to learn my own language?

If only elders knew how much courage it takes to learn our dialects, that it merits acknowledgement and encouragement, not criticism. If only elders knew that reclaiming your native language is an act of reclaiming identity, and that it is an act of bravery, ultimately self-love, and valuable.

I refuse to carry the blame for not speaking Tagalog. I take responsibility for reclaiming a language and identity that is rightfully mine. The process will be slow and my Tagalog imperfect because honestly my family isn’t the safest environment to learn and practice. For me, learning Tagalog is a process of healing.

What are your thoughts? Were you raised speaking your native dialect? How important is it to you that you speak it? What are your experiences with trying to learn a language from the Philippines and what kind of support did you get? What kind of support do you need?

The Day of the Dead is one of my favorite holidays. Celebrated the day after Halloween, it’s a time for communing with those who have passed on. In the Philippines, families head to the cemeteries and tend to the graves of loved ones. It’s not uncommon to spend the day there picnicking with the living among the dead. Prayers and masses are offered to relieve the suffering of those who have passed.

The Day of the Dead is a special holiday for me because it’s the only time of year where death is not taboo. I’m not talking gory Halloween horror movie death, but the natural cycle of life and death. The origins of Halloween come from the Celtic holiday of Samhain, which celebrates summer’s end and the beginning of winter.

As natural rhythms are slowing down in many parts of the States, school is just picking up. The upcoming holidays will soon jump start the frenzy with festivity preparations. In the Philippines, it’s monsoon and typhoon season, where floods and winds destroy crops and homes can get swept away easily by typhoon floods.

Collecting Bones
In her book, Women Who Run With the Wolves, the first story that Clarissa Pinkola Estes shares is that of La Loba. La Loba is the collector of bones. She combs the desert in search of wolf bones. She meticulously gathers them and when she has them all, she lines them up just so, and sings over them. She sings and sings and sings until the wolf comes back to life and runs on its way. By singing, La Loba uses her soul voice, singing soul over that which needs restoration, that which needs to be reclaimed, that which is ailing.

The Day of the Dead marks a good time for slowing down and lining up bones. Better yet for collecting them. What has been on your back burner that is asking to have its soul breathed back into it? What of your bones are longing to be unearthed?

The SoulCollage image that accompanies this post is called Harvesting Death. The story of La Loba illustrates that death isn’t finite. It only gives birth to a new cycle. What will your song be that breathes new life into the bones you unearth? What will you harvest from them?

I had the honor of being invited to be a guest speaker at a Pinay Symposium at UC Davis. It’s being organized by the Pilipina interest sorority Kappa Psi Epsilon and the theme is self-image. It’s not only limited to beauty standards, but also the image of being perfect in order to bring honor to your family. The Pinay Symposium also has the purpose of educating and encouraging its guests to love and accept themselves for who they are.

One of the organizers, Maria Miladel Blanco, asked me the following question:  what do you think is the best way to help those who are struggling with their self-image? I thought I’d take the time to answer here.

What I love about the Pinay Symposium’s theme and purpose, loving and accepting yourself for who you are, is that it has an internal focus. If you look at what’s out there on the web about Filipinos and our culture, the focus is always external. You’ll never find a lack of content on Filipino food, cultural events, or Filipino spottings in mainstream media, but rarely do you find anything on what Filipinos, especially pinays, struggle with or feel. In fact, I met with a pinay last week and she said that Filipinos feel deeply, but never talk about it.

Laura Espinosa of Cottage Copy is a Filipina blogger, copywriter, and WordPress developer who isn’t afraid to write about what she feels or to express her vulnerability. She writes honestly about the struggles of being a business owner here and not being her best here.

So when it comes to self-image and pinay self-love and acceptance, the spotlight needs to be directed from shining it outwardly to shining it within, and to do so, you need to have the courage to be honest, vulnerable, and imperfect.

Who’s crafting your self-image?

Whether it’s beauty or the expectations you’re trying to live up to or the family honor you’re trying to uphold, who crafted the self-image you are supposed to measure up to? Was it your parents, your culture, yourself? Are the measures even ones that reflect your own values?

Values are intangible principles that are inherently important to you, what you inherently hold in high regard. For example, some of mine are freedom (not in the patriotic sense), independence, creativity, and spirituality and they are reflected in my love for travel, working for myself, and being a visual artist.

With Filipino culture as hierarchical as it is, especially within family structures it’s not uncommon to have your self-image crafted for you. A lot of times we see this in the expectations and pressure to be who our parents want us to be, the doctors, lawyers, nurses, engineers, or whatever else is respectable or impressive to their friends. Add to it the guilt and shame and it makes us good for meeting these expectations or bad for not. Top it off with the cultural value of obedience and it can feel like you’re serving a life sentence that’s not your own choosing.

So, what are your values? List them down now. Do what it takes for you to truly listen to your soul and your gut, because no one else can tell you what your own personal values are. They may coincide with the culture’s or they may not. You are okay and lovable either way. Find a quiet space, go to your favorite spot, find your happy place – whatever it takes – and write them down.

Does your self-image reflect your values? If it doesn’t, what kind of self-image does?

Building your acknowledgment muscles

Filipinos are terrible at acknowledgment. Acknowledgment is such an undeveloped and undervalued skill in our community. When I talk to other Filipinos, nothing they ever did could be good enough for their parents. There was always a family member they were compared to or in my case, I’d bring home an A on my report card and was asked why it wasn’t an A+. Sound familiar?

What I’m going to say may sound harsh, but in my experience, it’s true. I even reference a study in a previous post that points to what I’m about to say. A lot of Filipino parents who emigrated from the Philippines see their kids for who they want them to be rather than for who they really are. It’s not about what their children value and what their children value about themselves. It’s all about the parents, sometimes to the point where the kid might as well not be in the picture at all except as a conduit for their desires. If you’re parents weren’t like this, kudos to them because they are the exception. And an exceptional exception at that.

All too often we’re told how we don’t measure up or how we’re not good enough. Add to that maybe you feel guilty and ashamed because you’re not the work of perfection you’re expected to be, a standard of perfection that is someone else’s. It’s easy to beat yourself up over it too.

When it comes to self-image and loving and accepting yourself you need to be able to acknowledge yourself for who you are because honestly, our community sucks at it. Give yourself the opportunity to be truly seen for who you are and there’s no better place to start than with yourself.

Start small. Start little. Make a list. Keep a journal of acknowledgments. What do you value about yourself? What do you do well that no one else does? I dare you: ask some friends to acknowledge your strengths, what they love about you. Have them write you a letter, card, or email. Start building community around your acknowledgment practice. Hire a coach. Let your practice of loving yourself for who you are grow with your acknowledgment practice, your self-acceptance practice too.

Take a few of your own self-acknowledgments and find someone you trust to hold a space and listen as you say them out loud. Then let that person reflect them back to you verbatim while you receive the acknowledgment wholeheartedly.

As you develop your practice and when your actions and goals align with your values, the spotlight you directed inward will start to radiate out. Your self-image won’t be defined by outside factors; it will be expressed by you from within.

Leave your thoughts in the comments and if you try any of the mini exercises, share how they worked for you. Thank you to Maria Miladel Blanco of Kappa Psi Epsilon for posing the question to me and to the sisters of Kappa Psi Epsilon for addressing such an important issue for pinays in your upcoming symposium.

I went missing for the past few weeks because I was busy creating my other not so secret dream life as a visual artist and have taken up dancing, neither of which I really have much experience in.

On a total fluke I got into an art exhibit. I thought at first that I could make an installation, but it turned out the exhibit only takes paintings, so I made a painting. And it turns out that my very first painting was exhibited at a reputable museum.  Yay, scary, and took it with a grain of salt.

Luckily enough I was mentored by my painter friend who was also in the exhibit. She’s a brilliant visual artist who paints, does sculpture and installation, not to mention she’s seriously a genius. My process, however, drove her nuts, to the point where she couldn’t watch me paint. I’m a snail of a painter because I’m too OCD as she put it. I got caught up in the minute details and lost perspective of the entire picture. Improvise, she said.

There was a lot at stake. The museum put a lot of effort into the advertising and here I am, a first time painter. I was obsessed with how I mixed my colors and asked my friend to look at my painting as I completed each new section. I drove her nuts.

Maybe I turned my dream into an obsession of minute perfection that in the end didn’t matter. It turns out that I get a lot of joy from painting, but I felt like I also crossed an obsessive line that my Dreamer doesn’t need to cross.

Gross National Happiness

What if the weight is put on fulfillment instead of perfection? What if the measure of success is happiness?

In the country of Bhutan, rather than a Gross Domestic Product (GDP) they have instead Gross National Happiness (GNH). Originated by the previous king, GNH is one of the main responsibilities of the current monarch, King Khesar. Social, economic, and political changes and policy all must fulfill GNH. An index was even created as an indicator for the adoption or rejection of policies.

GNH governs the following domains of Bhutanese society: psychological well-being, time use, community vitality, culture, health, education, environmental diversity, living standard, and governance. Most importantly the indicators assist with decision making that uphold the values of the culture and the people. Certain indicators gauge the rates of negative and positive emotions, from anger to compassion.

Radical, isn’t it? What if you were to apply GNH to your own sovereignty and time usage? How would your life change once you applied it? How would GNH change how you approach and pursue what you are most passionate about?

My insecurity with painting did not have the same type of happiness measure. I was so concerned with technique and measuring up to the other artists in the exhibit that I didn’t trust my intuition or my natural ability. My energy was tentative rather than uninhibited. Don’t get me wrong, technique is important, but so is one’s being during the creation process.

As a painter I measure my Gross National Happiness with the following realizations. I found out that I love painting and have some natural talent for it. In fact, my life was absolutely blissful the entire week I painted. I’d wake up in early in the morning, meditate, paint all day, and then go to dance class in the evening. I found mixing all my colors and applying them to the canvas extremely meditative. During the process and at the end of the day, I was absolutely fulfilled and joyful.

My being was calm, happy, and inspired.  My dreams of being an artist were being fulfilled.

What of your dreams? Where would they score on your Gross National Happy meter if you lived them or gave them a try?

The answer that cost Miss Philippines the Miss Universe crown says a lot about the price of perfection, or rather being seemingly perfect. It’s painful really to lose the grand prize opportunity of a lifetime, honestly, because you can’t acknowledge your shit, even if just a smidgeon.

Ah, if only it could be easier. But it’s just as much about having the space to make a mistake or fail as it is about Miss Philippines, or anyone else for that matter, being able and willing to fess up to shortcomings. When you think about it, Miss Philippines kept in line with the culture and how it operates around mistakes.

The expectation and pressure for young Filipino-Americans to be perfect is reflected everywhere: school grades, not bringing shame to the family, being obedient, having a stable profession as a lawyer, doctor, nurse, and so on. There is this expectation to never make mistakes and if you do, then you never acknowledge it, pretend that it never happened, and god forbid if a parent or elder acknowledges their shit and apologizes for a wrong doing. They don’t EVER do anything wrong now do they.

Shhh. Wait, wait, wait. I hear it – the default defensive response when parents are confronted with owning their shit. “I sacrificed a lot to come here.” Yes, you absolutely did and I know it wasn’t easy, but you didn’t give up the myth of perfection.

I feel like a failure

I do. I don’t have a “real” career  or a profession I feel my parents can be proud of. Really. My dad is 80. Do you think his church buddies understand when he tells them his daughter is a life coach? He can’t say nurse, doctor, engineer, or lawyer.  I don’t want to be any of those things, but I wish he could give them something more understandable.

Before launching as a life coach, I failed in another business endeavor that I didn’t love. I feel so… unprofessional. My website is a hot mess and I don’t have the money to fix it. No one reads my blog and no one seems to give a rat’s ass about what I write about. I feel like a failure.

I know I’m not alone.

Dealing with your perfectionist

The question is really whose perfectionist? Who does your inner perfectionist really belong too? Is it the voice of a long ago critic or someone else whose approval you really value?

Speaking of values, what are yours? Values are what you inherently hold in high esteem or importance. A few of mine are freedom, independence, travel, creativity, and art. In terms of freedom and independence, I want a lifestyle where I can pick up and go, travel, and roll out my livelihood from anywhere in the world. Coaching allows me to do that.

Travel. I’ve somehow managed to swing six-month adventures to India, Nepal, Japan, and the Philippines – twice! This is something that most people don’t get to do until they are retired.

Creativity. I love dance. I have no background in it and I’m about to embark on my first ballet and jazz classes three times a week.

When I mentioned my failures earlier, they were failures according to standards of success that weren’t mine and did not align at all with my key values. When I match what I am doing now with my values, I am actually on track.

Getting here though, which is by no means perfect, did not come unaccompanied by mistakes. I made HUGE mistakes, and incredibly dumb ones too. I still make them. And I learn. I fess up to them too. When I step back, honestly, in many ways, I’m living my dream. But it takes stepping back from measuring myself against other people’s values to acknowledge and celebrate where I am.

What would it take?

What kind of space would it take for you to make friends with your mistakes and failure and still feel like a worthwhile human being? I ask because there is no space in Filipino culture to make mistakes, no room to be less than shameful. No room to be an embarrassment to your family.

I asked a friend in the Philippines if she thought Miss Philippines was beating herself up over her answer and not clenching the crown. Her response was, “I’m surprised she hasn’t jumped off a bridge yet.” That’s how so not okay it is to make a mistake, but to “say there is nothing major, major, I mean, problem that I have done in my life.” Yeah right.

We are all too familiar with the dictatorial mandates to get good grades, to not be an embarrassment. We are all too familiar with a dictatorial mandate to be perfect. But rather than a mandate to be perfect, what would it be like to be asked “Where do you want to grow? What supports growth for you in ________ area?” If these questions were asked among Filipino families in America and if parents could honestly listen and respect the answers they received, the discussions would be radical ones.

The Huffington Post published an article by Daniel Wagner on August 25, about the recent debacles involving the Philippines: the hostage situation and Miss Philippines’ answer that cost her the Miss Universe crown.

It stirred up some controversy among fellow Filipino-Americans in my Facebook network, with one relative calling for a rebuttal. After reading Wagner’s article though, I don’t believe Wagner deserves one. In fact, I believe Wagner is spot on.

In a nutshell, Wagner uses the hostage situation and Miss Philippines’ answer to frame the “promise and peril” of the Philippines, concluding that with as much as the Philippines has going for it, the Philippines seems to be going backwards politically and economically. He states that Filipinos don’t demand enough from themselves.

There’s a definitive archetype that Filipinos possess – the servant – that illustrates Wagner’s point. I lived in Manila for six months and I too noticed that Filipinos lack “demanding enough” from themselves. It’s important to note that the archetypal servant isn’t the only archetype that conveys the persona of Philippine culture, but it is a prevalent one that dominates the professional arena of Filipinos across the globe.

The Archetypal Servant
According to Caroline Myss, the archetypal servant engages in acts of service to others, but the healthy expression of this archetype is balanced by simultaneous service to others and the self. The biggest Philippine export is its female labor. We see it all around us with Filipinas as house servants, care givers, nannies, nurses, and in hospitality industries abroad as entertainers or room service help.

Not demanding enough
The key to understanding this archetype is understanding the lesson it bears in relation to power and personal power. I noticed a resignation of will in the Philippines. Hardships and the action of servitude to survive economically were the will of others and always external – God, family, poverty. While economic survival is a tough and difficult reality for many, there was a sense of resignation when it came to agency and the power to make change.

This speaks to Wagner’s statement, “I came to the conclusion that in spite of all the things the Philippines has going for it, its people didn’t demand enough of themselves, or of their government.” I noticed that the common belief people held is that it’s out of their hands. The opportunity for change and making it happen is in the hands of someone else.

Does this mean the Philippine people take their hardships sitting down? Absolutely not. We have People Power revolutions I and II. We have the cannery and farm workers who changed the face of working conditions, corruption in their industries, and their unions in the United States. We also have indigenous rebellions against the Spanish and Americans in our colonial history.

Speaking of colonial history…
Yes speaking of colonial history, this goes much deeper than term after term of corrupt government administrations. It speaks to the wear and tear on collective empowerment and cultural self-worth that happens when not one, but two colonial powers wreak havoc on indigenous and harmonious cultures for 500+ years. AND it’s not about the Spanish and Americans anymore. It’s about what has been inherited from a colonial legacy that Filipinos now perpetuate themselves and have internalized.

With that in mind, what does it mean to expect more from ourselves? What has to happen to be empowered to do so? Where does change need to happen within each person to effect change collectively? I don’t just ask this question for Filipinos in the homeland either. The participation of Filipino-Americans and other Filipinos in the diaspora has everything to do with change in the homeland.

And most importantly, how does the Philippine servant serve from the highest potential, one of power and one that serves her own self?

I’d love to hear your thoughts.