Stories

Karmina Constantino in focus: “When there’s an opportunity to make things right, you take it.”

March 14, 2022

JEROME GOMEZ

The “trending” news anchor talks about the great men who shaped her, and for the first time opens up about surviving an affliction that almost ended her life

Constantino on the influence of her parents: “They taught us really how to love your country eh. It was ingrained in us. There’s no other option.” Photograph by Joseph Pascual

There is perhaps no news anchor more popular on social media at the moment than Karmina Constantino. The broadcast journalist behind the long-running news show “Dateline Philippines” on ANC caught the attention of netizens last week when she pointedly refuted the suggestion of presidential candidate Dr. Jose Montemayor Jr. that ANC might have accepted money from the Isko Moreno camp.

This was after Constantino asked Montemayor to clarify details of his allegations regarding the Manila mayor receiving donations from the Melinda and Bill Gates Foundation. “I’m sorry, I’m not gonna let that pass, Dr. Montemayor. We are not in the business of getting paid,” said the news program anchor in the now viral interview. “I am personally insulted by that insinuation. We can go on with this interview, we can leave this topic aside and move on. But let me tell you, this is not an insinuation that I will take lightly.”



Constantino’s name trended on Twitter right after and the news anchor earned praise and admiration from netizens and viewers for quickly standing up to Montemayor. “Salute to Karmina, brave woman,” said a comment on YouTube. “You go girl,” said another. “Can we have Karmina cloned?” asked a tweet. “Karmina Constantino pulls yet another ESPN Play of the Day,” another Twitter comment went. “Magnificent.”

The lady appreciates the accolades. “I was floored, to be honest,” she says. She also found the reaction “empowering,” in light of the challenges her home network had to go thru the past two years. But while Constantino values the commendations, she knows there was really nothing out of the ordinary about what she did.

“I didn’t think any differently of it. I just knew at that time that I had to do what was needed to be done, which is to correct him right away,” the news anchor tells ANCX over Zoom. “Because I feel like this is precisely why we’re here in this situation: walang nagsalita, hinahayaan yung mga pagkakamali. And I’ve always been that kind of person kasi eh. Whenever an opportunity presents itself to make things right, you take it.”

She finds it curious that people describe her move as brave and ballsy. “Hindi siya matapang eh. Hindi siya katapangan,” she says. “It’s about what is right. At walang lugar dapat doon whether you’re courageous or not.”

On doing her job: “Natutuwa ako every time may interview because I don’t know what’s gonna happen next. It’s always an adventure for me.” Photo by Joseph Pascual

Shaping Karmina

Constantino grew up with a grandfather who was a historian, and a father who was an activist. The former is, of course, Renato Constantino who wrote several books on Philippine history, was a diplomat, a nationalist, and a one-time opinion writer who famously dedicated his column on February 19, 1972 to describe the mind of then Presidential brother-in-law Kokoy Romualdez as nothing but empty white space.

His son RC Constantino, meanwhile, Karmina’s dad, was at the forefront of the fight against the US Bases renewal in the country, and in 2006 memorably disrupted a press conference on Charter change, calling a bunch of congressmen “serial rapists,” “without shame,” and a “disgrace to the nation.”

“They taught us really how to love your country eh,” says Constantino of her parents. “It was ingrained in us. There’s no other option. Whether it’s art that you do or this or any other work. Hindi imposed. I don’t know how they did it, siguro through their actions, yung modeling nangyari when we were growing up.” The state of the country was a regular topic at the Constantino home, and young Karmina would even tag along with her dad during rallies. “I was raised by parents who taught us how to respect authority but they also taught us to question authority when needed.”

Sal and Hoff

Constantino didn’t originally want a career in broadcast media, which was what her mother had wanted her to pursue. She took up film in U.P. but eventually ended up in the newsroom when she applied for a post in the now dissolved Sky News then headed by David Celdran. She was immediately offered a reporter position but Constantino begged off—having studied film, she knew nothing about news television—and asked that she be given the lowest post instead so she can learn the ropes from the bottom up.

Within a year, she was writing and producing special reports, and eventually made anchor. When Sky News merged with the Sarimanok News Network sometime in the late 90s, Constantino kept her job until after the merger became what is now ANC.

She considers then Sky News reporters Ed Lingao, Luz Rimban, Kara Magsanoc Alikpala and Dondi Ocampo her early mentors. From them, the news anchor says she learned about the value of having a good work ethic and unquestionable principles. “Once you have those in place, it always has to be the best effort that you put into your work,” she adds. “Up to now that’s what I do because that’s what they showed me.”

Ever since taking on the anchor position at “Dateline Philippines,” Constantino has spoken with hundreds of personalities—and they’re not always controversial politicians. Asked to name some of her memorable interviews, she mentions the two times she got to talk to the American actor David Hasselhoff. As a child of the ‘80s and as a “Knight Rider” fan, she says, those two encounters meant a lot.

Another interview that comes to mind is the one with Sal Panelo July last year. She was asking the former presidential spokesperson why the Palace hasn’t issued an apology to Hidilyn Diaz after the Olympian was erroneously included in an oust-Duterte matrix. “You may have unwittingly injured a person and put the person in this matrix. Sabihin na natin you were just tasked by the President to present this matrix but the matrix included questionable details, untruths, falsities,” said Constantino. “So why not even apologize for that?”

“You’re putting assumptions na hindi tama,” Panelo replied.

Constantino’s answer: “Hindi ba ganon din ang matrix mo?”

One interview she will always remember was the one with a policeman assigned to human rights worker Reina Mae Nasino—whose baby died two months after it was taken away from her care in prison. “I had just given birth then, and I know the feeling of a mother yearning to be with the child, even if the child is only in the other room,” recalls the news anchor who is a mother of three boys and a girl. Interviewing the police officer proved frustrating, she says. No matter how hard she probed, she couldn’t get through to the guy.

Of course now the interview with Montemayor will be part of her list of memorable interviews, if only for the impact it created.

“This is the thing that I love the most about interviewing,” says Constantino. “An interview once it’s there, it’s not just live it’s also alive, and you have to really respect the life of this interview. Of course you have a set of questions but (the conversation) can go another way so you always have to be alert. So natutuwa ako every time may interview because I don’t know what’s gonna happen next. It’s always an adventure for me.”

On the misconception she’s ‘masungit’: “Matagal na ‘ko mabait. Maldita lang ako,” she says, laughing.

Surviving aneurysm

Truth be told, it was hard for the journalist to skim through the many interviews she’s done and find the gems. She doesn’t really keep track of them, she says. “After my program is done, after postmortem or whatever, tapos na yun.” Because apart from her work as news anchor, she also wears other hats. “I’m a wife, I’m a very loving wife. I’m a mom to four kids. I manage our household. I am a daughter, I am a sister, and I take these roles seriously.”

Being there for those closest to her has acquired a new importance after Constantino survived a brain aneurysm in 2015. “That was a wake-up call to me, that our lives shouldn’t be lived for ourselves alone, that we should be living our lives for others. I’ve been family-centric ever since [I was young]—ganyan ako pinalaki. But after the brain surgery, after the aneurysm, it gave me a deeper understanding of life and how you should live it. So whether it’s family or friends, conversations like this one, [we] should really be in the moment.”

Constantino was in a coma for three days. And it took awhile after she realized what exactly she had gone through. “When I first woke up, I didn’t realize the gravity of it. The realization doesn’t come right away, like in one fell swoop. It doesn’t happen that way,” she says. “It’s little things. Kasi hindi mo naman mare-realize kaagad yan when you’re going through therapy, when you’re learning how to walk again, when you’re frustrated because you can’t do the things you were able to do before. When you have to have a nurse to pee. Hindi mo mare-realize yan na ‘I survived!’ But when you attend your children’s programs, which you could have missed, the moving up ceremonies of my kids that came after, that’s when you realize ‘I’m not supposed to be here but I am, and that’s a miracle.’”

She would cry uncontrollably during those moving up ceremonies, she admits, even in Boy Scout investitures. “Ako lang siguro yung natatanging parent during the moving up na hagulgol nang hagulgol.” Sometimes she even catches herself crying on dates with her husband. “It makes you all the more aware of everything,” she says of the ordeal she went through, “not just the notable things that happened to you but the many other miracles that happen everyday. Doesn’t have to be mind-blowing. It’s as simple as waking up in the morning.”

Other prominent people who have survived aneurysm are “Game of Thrones” star Emilia Clarke, American actress Sharon Stone, and musician Quincy Jones who had his aneurysm in 1974. They all have publicly spoken about their experiences, including CNBC correspondent Sharon Epperson who suffered an aneurysm in 2016 at age 48, and in 2019 was already spreading the word to US lawmakers about the affliction and what can be done to prevent it.

Constantino says surviving aneurysm made her grateful for the gift of life. “Kaya dapat hindi sinasayang. Pero matagal ko na naman hindi sinasayang yung buhay ko. Matagal na ‘ko mabait. Maldita lang ako,” she says, laughing.

Trending again

The past two years seemed to have lit a fire in the news anchor. “Without the franchise and with the pandemic, I’ve never been more passionate with my work,” she says. “Because these are the times [that give reason to] why we exist—so the more we should be probing, the more we should be asking questions, whether it’s about the country’s health or the country’s political future. This is why we should be out there more than ever.”

Before the viral interview with Montemayor can even turn a week old, Constantino’s name is back on TikTok, on Twitter feeds, on Facebook status updates, this time with a highly tense—at least that’s how we felt watching it—back and forth with Cavite Rep. Crispin “Boying” Remulla. The congressman has alleged there were paid attendees during the March 4 rally for Presidential aspirant Leni Robredo in General Trias, Cavite, and that there were “hakot” crowd members transported from outside Cavite.



On YouTube, praise for how the news anchor handled the interview is generous. They love her follow up questions and how she asks them. “Power,” someone said. “Queen on fire,” said another. “You were good, Ms. Constantino,” someone wrote. “You have always been..but this time you’re even better.”

In the interview, as per her usual, Constantino probed yet kept her cool. But you can almost tell when she’s getting fired up. When she’s not buying what the other guy is selling. Is it when she drops her head very slightly to the left? Or the right? Or when her eyes get smaller and she leans closer to the camera. Sometimes it’s her eyebrows, which you realize is not really doing anything—they’re just naturally, well, “maldita.”

She asked Remulla to name the politician who he said was paying rally attendees but the congressman declined. She asked if he has proof with regards his allegations, but Remulla said it’s not necessary. He was a former governor of Cavite, he said, and knows the territory very well. “Alam ko ang galawan ng tao sa amin. Kaya taken at face value, I do not have reason to lie. Nakita ko yung mobilization ng tao. Alam mo ang kilos ng hakot, alam mo ang kilos ng bayaran.”

“Congressman, you’re a veteran, you’re a political veteran. You’ve been through so many elections in the past,” Constantino then said with a straight face. “Gawain niyo rin ho ba ito, ang manghakot at magbayad?”

What does Constantino consider the biggest challenge facing media today? “The challenge now really is that the truth is being threatened,” she says. “People have their own versions of truths. On one hand, puwede mo sabihin that’s okay. All of us naman have our own biases, depends on how you were raised, your environment. But then there’s biases and there’s truths and there’s facts.”

What makes the situation more challenging is the great amount of people peddling fake news and revisions in our history. “We’re outnumbered,” says Constantino. “But that’s just a challenge, a snapshot of where we are now. But I believe that it shouldn’t and will not be our story forever. Because even if the truth is being threatened or challenged, there are many who are also seeking the truth. So in a way, we may be outnumbered but our ranks are multiplying.”

Photographs by Joseph Pascual

Source: https://news.abs-cbn.com/ancx/culture/spotlight/03/10/22/up-close-and-really-personal-with-karmina-constantino

Passion for research drives ACIAR alumni despite challenges of the pandemic

March 8, 2022
Dr Glory Dee Romo (2nd from left) and her team from the University of the Philippines Mindanao together with Mr Joel and Mrs Amarylis Bisnar at the Bisnar mango farm in Poblacion Peñaplata, Island Garden City of Samal, Davao.

In the lead up to International Women’s Day, we celebrate ACIAR Alumni Dr Glory Dee Romo, who led a research team from the University of the Philippines Mindanao to find out how the COVID-19 pandemic impacted enterprises in the Philippines and how they can bounce back and be more prepared for future crises.

Dr Glory Dee Romo is a former John Allwight Fellow and is one of several ACIAR Alumni in the Philippines responding to the impacts of COVID-19 on agrifood systems.

 

 

 

 

 

Dr Glory Dee Romo, or simply ‘Dee’, is a socio-economist and a faculty member at the University of the Philippines (UP) Mindanao. She has made it her lifelong commitment to raise the bar in Philippine agriculture by helping and empowering farmers, especially women, to improve their livelihoods and gain better incomes.

These interests grew while pursuing her doctoral degree at The University of Queensland through the ACIAR John Allwright Fellowship (JAF) in 2012-2016 and was furthered during her experience in the Meryl Williams Fellowship in 2021.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
A champion for women

For Dee, one of the benefits of the fellowships is being able to establish links with university experts, researchers and potential project collaborators. She takes pride in having worked with outstanding mentors who guided her in completing her postgraduate programs. Through the ACIAR fellowships, Dee was also able to participate in various workshops geared towards helping fellows become better researchers.

Her experiences made Dee realise the importance of focusing research efforts on topics that one is passionate about. For Dee, among these issues include women’s empowerment.

In a blog published by Gender Equity in Agriculture Research for Development [GEAReD]), Dee shared that she is drawn to research projects that focus on women. She ensures that her research and extension initiatives will have gender elements and encourage women participation.

For example, right after her JAF, Dee worked alongside other faculty members from the UP Mindanao School of Management to implement a project in Davao City called ‘Strategic Planning for Women’s Enterprise’. The project worked with a women’s cooperative that produces handwoven products such as slippers, accessories, and mats.

Dee and her colleagues organised training to help these women to improve their skills in managing their organisation including managing finances and marketing their products. Dee hopes that other institutions will replicate the project in other areas in the country.

A champion for food security and resilience

Smallholder farmers, especially women, were foremost in Dee’s mind when the COVID-19 pandemic hit in 2020. Dee and her team at UP Mindanao conceptualised a project that aimed to understand and minimise the disruptions in food value chains, especially in distributing food to the consumers.

‘I was excited when I learned about the support of ACIAR to its alumni through the Alumni Research Support Facility (ARSF), which allowed us to conduct research projects in response to the pandemic,’ said Dee.

‘I was particularly interested in studying the impacts of the pandemic on the food processing sector, particularly the micro, small, and medium enterprises (MSMEs) and what policies could be put in place so that they can bounce back and be more prepared in future crises.’

Dee’s study showed that Philippine enterprises had varied experiences and adaptation strategies amidst the pandemic. Overall, the pandemic has shown both adaptation and challenges faced by agri-food chain actors. Although government policies enabled those who handled basic food such as rice, food manufacturers were affected by reduced demand.

‘Online selling became an important activity in distributing food products but delivering to and sourcing raw materials from distant locations incurred additional costs and these limited the firms’ operations,’ shared Dee.

‘Government assistance programs helped food manufacturers partially recover from the effects of lockdowns. However, due to the intermittent enforcement of lockdowns, many manufacturers and farmers had to resort to loans for business and personal use.

‘Our research also highlighted that women and people with disabilities (PWDs) were among the most affected, as many of them did not have personal savings nor financial capability to counter the impacts of the pandemic.’

Dr Glory Dee Romo (right) and her team from the University of the Philippines Mindanao visit the City Investment and Tourism Office, Island Garden City of Samal, Davao

Dr Glory Dee Romo (right) and her team from the University of the Philippines Mindanao visit the City Investment and Tourism Office, Island Garden City of Samal, Davao

At the end of their one-year ARSF project, Dee’s team came up with policy recommendations to share with the local government, other relevant agencies, and the broader research community.

‘One of the points we put forward include having specific policies related to disruptions in food businesses and the whole food system during crises, as these were not clearly defined, if at all existing, pre-pandemic.

‘It is also now more important to have response plans that specifically address the needs of vulnerable groups such as women, PWDs, those with limited savings, sole proprietors, and labourers,’ said Dee.

‘Businesses had to adjust to a new normal setting, challenging their entrepreneurial and management skills to continue operations. The public and private sector should consider this in designing future capacity-building programs such as on financial literacy, marketing, and the use of digital platforms, including social media.’

Dee and her team also implemented the Strengthening Against Vulnerabilities and Externalities of Food Systems (SAVE Food Systems) project, which was funded by the Australian Government’s Australia Alumni COVID-19 Response Grant Scheme in the Philippines. The SAVE project, which complemented Dee’s ARSF initiative, provided smallholder farming communities in Davao with hygiene kits, vegetable seeds, food packs, and training on good manufacturing practices for MSMEs. The project was among the awardees of the University of the Philippines Gawad Pangulo (President’s Award) Excellence in Public Service for 2021.

Dee knew that there would be a lot of challenges in conducting their research projects, particularly in their team’s mobility and ability to meet and engage with their collaborators – the enterprise owners, manufacturers, farmers, traders, wholesalers, and retailers. Among their collaborators, Mr Joel Bisnar and Mrs Amarylis Bisnar, welcomed the team to their mango farm and production facility.

‘Fortunately, we were still able to conduct surveys and field visits, ensuring that we adhere to the strict health and travel protocols. I am grateful that my team at UP Mindanao, which includes Assistant Professor Jon Marx Sarmiento, Adonis Traje, Geraliza Wahing, and Francis Levi Durano, also share the same motivation. It was this great teamwork that made things happen, despite the pandemic,’ Dee said.
 

‘I told myself that I could not let the pandemic stall my life and stop me from doing what I love most: research and extension. It is not just about the study or written output anymore; it is about how our research could help our collaborators.
-Dr Glory Dee Romo
ACIAR Alumni

ACIAR established the ARSF in April 2020 to respond to the COVID-19 pandemic. The ARSF enabled alumni of ACIAR fellowships to pursue relevant research to help build resilience and respond to the challenges brought by the pandemic to agricultural systems in ACIAR partner countries.

Moreover, it allowed for continuous capacity building of ACIAR alumni, with Australian mentors working with each research team to provide technical advice where needed. The ARSF supported three women researchers from the Philippines.

Learn more about the ARSF.

Source: https://www.aciar.gov.au/media-search/blogs/passion-research-drives-aciar-alumni-despite-challenges-pandemic

Writer Marivi Soliven on her novel-turned-film, ‘The Mango Bride,’ and its star Sharon Cuneta

By JANET SUSAN R. NEPALES



Los Angeles — Marivi Soliven almost took up Psychology in college as a major at the University of the Philippines.

Then she realized how much math there was. “And Journalism only had Math 11, so I was like, ‘Duon na lang ako.’ You play to your strengths. I like to read, so I figured if I could read and write, what’s not to love about that.”

Psychology’s loss is Journalism’s gain. Soliven graduated magna cum laude from UP, and in 2011, became a Carlos Palanca Memorial awardee for Literature for her novel, “The Mango Bride.”

Fastfoward to 2022 and “The Mango Bride” is now being adapted into a feature film by global media company 108 Media.

The story, which follows the lives of two Filipinas who migrate to California, deals with immigration issues, mail-order brides, loyalty, family, gender abuse, betrayal among others.

Sharon Cuneta will star in and executive produce the film. Filipino-Canadian filmmaker Martin Edralin (“Islands”) will direct, while Rae Red (“Babae at Baril”) will adapt the novel.

Soliven, who comes from a family of writers (Uncle Max Soliven and Tita Ethel Soliven Timbol were writers), was contacted by 108 Media’s APAC Producer Micah Tadena to make Soliven’s dream of turning her novel into a film a reality.

We were able to interview Soliven virtually and below are excerpts of our conversation:

https://www.instagram.com/p/CaYlQpvlgi4/?utm_source=ig_embed&ig_rid=6575ed90-19c3-4c6a-9e59-db8a48dd120d
Congratulations on your book being made into a film, with no less than Sharon Cuneta starring and even acting as executive producer. How do you feel about this? What’s the significance of this?

Leaving aside Sharon Cuneta, I’ve been following her daughter. Recently, a friend of mine mentioned that Sharon’s daughter had been trolled by certain journalists for speaking out and advocating for women.

I figured anyone who can raise a strong woman like that is really— notwithstanding her own past and her own advocacy, she will be a strong voice for the film adaptation.

I’m really excited about that because I know people look up to Sharon and there are certain topics in the Philippines that women are just less comfortable speaking about, but I think once it’s out in the open and there’s a film that resonates with their own lived experiences, I think they’ll be a little bit more assertive about speaking up for themselves on tough things like abortion and infidelity and divorce. All of those things that have kind of tended to advantage men and disadvantage women in the Philippines.

Your book won the Palanca award. Can you look back at those early years when you were writing it and your journey from that period to present?

It started out in 2008. I was approached by an agent, her name was Taryn Fagerness, because she really wanted to represent me for another collection of short fiction called “Spooky Mo.” But her agency said, “No, you really need to start out with a novel.” So, I decided to write the novel, which I’d never done before and that was around the time that the subprime mortgage crisis was happening in the United States.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CXR6TXvvKKi/?utm_source=ig_embed&ig_rid=4afd8624-09a8-4b71-858a-bc3ede15004f

Coincidentally around that time, domestic violence also began to peak. Because my day job is as a phone interpreter, I was getting a lot more calls from the National Domestic Violence Hotline and I guess those things are related. In the same way that the domestic violence has increased exponentially during Covid, it was the same situation back then.

I thought this is something I’d like to write about, and I also wanted to integrate my own experiences as an immigrant and all the other immigrant experiences that I was encountering in my day. I just try to put all those things into one cohesive narrative and insert the concept of class.

The Philippines doesn’t really have racism. They have class. I thought that would be a really interesting dynamic to throw into the novel, how different immigrants, depending on where they’re coming from in life, experience immigration differently.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CaU2Upjln1U/?utm_source=ig_embed&ig_rid=8de887b3-5427-4641-a66e-39b81d0173ee

Did you have a hand in the choice of Sharon Cuneta and the director Martin Edralin and the screenwriter Rae Red?

My opinion was listened to, but Micah (Tadena) called the shots. She was like, “Well, what do you think of this person?” How can you say no to Sharon? How could you not be happy about that? Although I will claim some kind of credit for Martin because when I saw his film Islands at the San Diego Asian American Film Festival, I was like, “Oh yeah, he totally gets it. He’s Filipino-Canadian. He totally gets the immigrant experience.”

I wrote to him. I asked for the festival director for his email address, and I just went out there and emailed him out of the blue. Luckily, he didn’t think I was crazy and luckily Micah agreed that he was a good pick too. We pulled it together.

Then she asked me to watch Rae Red’s film “Babae at Baril” and I was just so blown away because I was like, “Okay, there’s poverty here, but it’s not poverty porn.” There was something driving about it, and again, the idea of a really strong female character instead of someone who’s just browbeaten all the time. I thought that was just really exciting.

I thought between Sharon, Martin and Rae, that would be a really strong team to move the project forward.

In the Variety article, Sharon mentioned that she’s been a fan of yours ever since, and that you captured the Filipino migrant and Filipino American stories. Can you comment about that?

A friend just told me that when she and Kiko (Pangilinan), who I’ve known since undergrad days at UP, I guess he went to grad school in Boston, and she experienced some of what I experienced.

My book “Suddenly Stateside” was basically a compilation of all of those experiences and somehow, the publisher managed to get a copy. Tony Hidalgo of Milflores Press managed to get a copy to Sharon, and I guess it resonated with her experience, but I only found that out recently.

I’m just actually really flattered. It was really nice to hear that from her, especially since I’ve known her husband since we were both kind of kenkoy in UP.

Who is Sharon portraying in the movie?

She’s portraying Marcela, who is the heart of the novel. She’s a very strong character. She really is the conscience, the soul and the heart of this story, even though the younger major characters go off into the United States.

Like food is a metaphor for love, she is the purveyor and producer of that food. She really is the beating heart of the novel. The one that people hurry to come home to.

One of the ways Filipinos say, how are you is “Kumain ka na ba?” (Have you eaten?), so if only for that, you already know what center holds the book together. I’m really happy that she’s playing that part.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CVI1fLxvBIC/?utm_source=ig_embed&ig_rid=961d6a1b-7533-490c-a165-883d24028f0a

Why do you say that your novel is a love letter to UP Diliman as well as to San Francisco?

I went back to teaching at UP after a few years in advertising and I’ve just never seen a campus just as pretty as UP. It has its faults, but just walking under the acacia trees, the Academic Oval, it really just hits you how pretty the campus is.

Then San Francisco and the Bay Area were my first homes in the United States as a newlywed. And for me, that always was my second home in the United States. That’s where I felt I most belonged. That’s why the novel is set both in Oakland and Manila. Not a reenactment or reproduction of my life as a young wife in Berkeley and UP as an instructor at UP Diliman. I love both those places.

Production is said to commence in late 2022. What will be your part there?

I don’t think I have the money to be an executive producer. My only hope is that they’ll fly me home so I can watch some of it. They’re going to film a few weeks in the Philippines and then another 10 days or something like that in the United States. Of course, coming up to San Francisco, that’s a no brainer. I’m always looking for a reason to go back up there. Hopefully, I’ll be in both places. Keeping my fingers crossed.

You published the book in 2013, but with domestic violence and immigration issues talked about in the book, it’s still quite relevant. What will audiences take from it?

Like I said domestic violence increases during times of stress and the World Health Organization has already pointed out that with the onset of Covid.

Basically, domestic violence skyrocketed because when you think about it, during the pandemic, women’s shelters were closed. You could not run there. Courts were closed — you couldn’t ask for restraining orders and if you were in an abusive relationship, you were trapped indoors with your abuser. Naturally, this was a perfect storm of really bad circumstances, which enable a lot more incidents of domestic violence to happen.

In terms of immigration, isn’t that always a hot topic for the United States? Especially with the previous administration that was completely xenophobic. The fact of the matter is Filipinos have formed such a large part of this country’s history.

I was listening to this podcast, and I learned this not so fun fact: Filipino nurses are only 4% of the entire nursing population in the United States, but they comprise 29% of deaths from Covid. So, our women are out there. Our women and men in the medical field are out there and they’re risking their lives for this country. They needed to be acknowledged and recognized.

It’s interesting that you mentioned also you get your inspiration from your job as a telephone interpreter. Tell us more about this job. Are you still doing it and what kind of issues did you handle?

Every day I work for several companies, and I talk on the phone. So much like Amparo in the novel, she’s usually puttering around the house doing something while she’s talking. Some of the calls have been really in fraught since the Covid pandemic began. I’ve had to, say, interpret on the average one end-of-life call a month.

When you’re talking to someone’s family, and that person is on the verge of death, it’s just really hard to manage, especially if the family is counting on you, the interpreter, to explain to them what exactly is going on because they can’t be there in the room with their ailing relative. It’s very hard to hear that news in any other language, but your mother tongue.

It’s been stressful, but at the same time, I feel like I’m doing the best I can to help people make sense of it by explaining to them the hard news in a language that they’re most familiar with. My Tagalog is not perfect, but it’s so much better than hearing bad news in English.

Do you feel like you’re like a psychiatrist when talking to these people and handling all these problems? How do you relax after a call that’s very heavy?

No, we’re not supposed to advocate for our clients at all. We’re supposed to be completely neutral. We’re supposed to be like an AC/DC adapter. It comes in English; it goes out Tagalog. So, we’re not supposed to show any kind of emotion, although that’s hard, but I do recover from that by baking.

I bake a lot. I cook a lot and that’s how I feel like everything that comes in through my ears, I can release through what I make. If I spend a day not writing anything that anyone wants, at least I know I can cook something that my husband will want. So not all is lost.

That inspired your “Pandemic Bread.”
Oh, you’ve read that. Oh, okay. Yeah.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CLz-NtJgAgm/?utm_source=ig_embed&ig_rid=f37fb6e9-d17c-4224-b528-5466a3ac281a

Talk about the things that you bake.

Ay Dios ko ang dami! It’s like for a long time during the election, I was baking something called blue wave bread, which was basically a bread that had a role of blue cheese in it. Every time the Democrats had a presidential debate, I would host, and this is before Covid, I would host a debate party and make that bread. So, I made that bread when Biden won office. I made that bread on January 6th, when he almost lost office. I was actually making that bread when I had to take an end-of-life call. It’s true. I actually was crying into the bread as I was rolling it up. I made other things, too.

You mentioned baking. Does writing also help you in your mental health?

Yes, definitely. If I’m upset about something, my idea is I’d rather write it out on paper than have it simmer inside and turn into a tumor so better to write than develop cancer is what I always think.

Talk about your advocacy for women of color, for writers of color and why you established this free conference Centering the Margins: Conversations with Writers of Color?

Centering the Margins: Conversations with Writers of Color was something that I thought I needed to put together because I hate to say it, but the writing community is so predominantly white, which does not imply anything about talent, it just implies that there are just more opportunities and it’s easier for white folks to get published. They know about all the things that are going on and a year after San Diego had its first book festival and forgot to invite any writers of color to participate, I was so indignant that I was like, “Eh tayo naman!.” (It’s our turn!)

I put a call out on Facebook, and I said, “Listen, I don’t have money to pay you, but like all Filipinos, we will feed you well.” So, we got 30 people; writers, poets, agents, publicists, publishers to fly in from all over the country from as far away as like the Midwest. We had a three-day conference and they paid for their own flights and lodging, but they ate like kings. For the first time, we were front and center. It was just all about writers of color, our issues and the spaces that we have to create for each other and the networking. If not for Covid, we would’ve done it again last year. Hopefully, we’ll do it again after all of this blows over.

At what point in your life did you decide you’ll become a full-time writer?

I am not a full-time writer. I have a day job as an interpreter to support my writing advocacy or my writing vocation. I don’t know too many people who are full-time writers who aren’t also New York Times best sellers and even those people have to have a day job sometimes. It’s healthier to have some other thing to do besides writing, because writing is such a solitary occupation that you lose sight of the rest of the world. I like to keep engaged and I like that my interpreting job keeps me connected with my immigrant community. I feel like I’m helping them and I’m being among them even as we’re all in our own little space bubbles because I get calls from everywhere, including the UK, Canada, sometimes Japan, someone is stranded, Alaska. It’s a whole mixed bag.

What would you advise aspiring female writers who want to follow your footsteps?

First, get a good day job so that you can write on the side and second, to just keep at it. If you love doing it, if you enjoy doing it, then you should just keep at it. Find the time. You’ll find the time to make it happen. — LA, GMA News

Source: https://www.gmanetwork.com/news/showbiz/showbizabroad/824177/writer-marivi-soliven-on-her-novel-turned-film-the-mango-bride-and-its-star-sharon-cuneta/story/

Briones shares journey as empowered woman

February 16, 2022
Education Secretary Leonor Briones recognizes women as rulers, warriors, healers, princesses and leaders, having equal status with men even before foreign conquerors came to the Philippines. CONTRIBUTED PHOTO

EDUCATION Secretary Leonor Magtolis Briones shared her educational experiences that helped her be empowered during the Asia Women’s Forum 2022 last Thursday.

“I was fortunate I grew up in a family where there were no distinctions between genders. The driving ambition was to send all of us to school,” Secretary Briones shared at the virtual event, hosted by the Asia CEO Forum.

Awarded as Lifetime Contributor for the Asia CEO Awards last year, Briones was among the 13 outstanding women across the world, who were invited to deliver an inspiring speech that tackled the stories behind their success as a woman.

Briones was born during World War 2 in Guihulngan, Negros Oriental, and she credited the efforts of her family, especially her parents, who were teachers and who prioritized learning by teaching the children in their house and keeping them safe from the dangers of war.

“My parents were teachers, and what my mother did to distract the children from the noise and the horror of war was to gather them in our house at the bottom of a gorge and teach them how to read and write,” Briones narrated.

Inspired by her family, Briones excelled in pursuing her education. After high school, she finished magna cum laude from Silliman University while working as a bookkeeper in two bookstores. Then, she obtained her Master’s in Public Administration at the University of the Philippines and postgraduate diploma at Leeds University in England and Harvard University in the United States.

Thus, Briones challenged the traditional role of women in society.

“What I consider my contribution is my efforts and help in bringing back, resuscitating, encouraging and inspiring women. We are equal with men and with the freedom to choose what we want to be,” Briones concluded.

Source: https://www.manilatimes.net/2022/02/14/public-square/briones-shares-journey-as-empowered-woman/1832833

FACES OF CEBU: Angelique Mhar Bilagantol, aspiring lawyer

By: Morexette Marie B. Erram



CEBU CITY, Philippines – Despite the hurdles and delays, the recently concluded Bar Examinations was the #BestBarEver for Angelique Mhar Bilagantol.

Angelique is an aspiring lawyer. Born and raised in Surigao City, the 25-year-old flew and stayed for a few years in Cebu to pursue her dreams.

She was among the approximately 1,200 bar takers who made history last February 4 and February 6 for being part of the first regionalized Bar Exams.

“I always aspire to be somebody that can help others. I often ask myself, based on what I have and I don’t have, what can I do?. And I told myself, I wanted to become a lawyer,” said Angelique.

She began her entire law school journey at the University of the Philippines of Cebu (UP Cebu), taking up Political Science in 2013.

Then right after earning her degree, she proceeded to study law at the University of San Carlos (USC) in 2017.

Her batch of Juris doctors was supposed to take the bar in 2021 but then COVID-19 happened. For Angelique, facing an uncertain path was difficult.

When the pandemic came, she and her schoolmates had to abandon what they’d become used to, and adjust to an all-new setting: online classes.

In Angelique’s case, it involved moving back to her hometown.

“I was worried. It was 3rd year, 2nd semester — the hardest semester in USC law. The sudden shift left us confused and unorganized. We have to adjust everything,” she said.

“How we study, manage our time, answer the quizzes and exams, answer recitations, among others. For me, I went home to the province, I have to adjust attending classes while at home since ever since college I am away from family for school,” she described.

But the hard times did not stop there. The bar exams have to be postponed a couple of times as threats of the pandemic continue, and restrictions are still in place.

Angelique coped with the unpredictable changes by studying more.

“It was hard especially financially since we also have to extend our budget. Scheduled plans have to be re-scheduled again. But on the bright side, we got more time to study,” she said.

In spite of all of these obstacles and gloomy developments, Angelique kept her chin up, reminding herself how far she had reached.

“What made me keep going? First, my family. Second, I always tell myself that everything that I worked so hard for will be put to waste if I give up now, so might as well get through it,” said Angelique.

But above all, Angelique was glad that they won’t have to travel further north just to take the bar examinations. Plus, their family and friends don’t need to break their finances just to show their support for her.

“It was indeed favorable, especially for us in Visayas and Mindanao. Fewer expenses, no need to adjust physically, mentally, and psychologically to a new environment, and our support system are closer. Our family need not spend on expensive tickets and accommodation just to support us in our Bar journey,” Angelique said.

“For me, being a lawyer, it’s like having superpowers. You see, you can save an innocent from going to jail. You can help a farmer against land grabbers. You can protect the battered spouse from the abusive spouse, etc. There is so much you can do when you are a lawyer. But of course, I also want that sense of pride and respect when we think of lawyers…and I love Legally blonde.”

Source: https://cebudailynews.inquirer.net/424127/faces-of-cebu-angelique-mhar-bilagantol-aspiring-lawyer

Ana Patricia Non: Her foodcart pushed back vs apathy

January 24, 2022



MANILA, Philippines — The buzz had kept the neighborhood on edge for days. COVID-19 infections were spreading and a granular lockdown seemed imminent. But details were sparse, with authorities issuing contradictory statements.

Finally, one humid evening in April 2021, barangay officials confirmed the inevitable and gave the community an hour to do its business. The deadline sent frantic residents of this middle-class enclave on Maginhawa Street in Quezon City on a mad dash for groceries and other supplies.

Among them was small-business owner Ana Patricia “Patreng” Non, who vividly recalled those sad days in a recent interview with the Inquirer:

“Ang lungkot talaga. Too many people getting sick, ambulances wailing all day, barangay officials getting overwhelmed with requests for medication. With the lockdown, health workers couldn’t go to work, construction workers couldn’t go home. Walang-wala ang mga tricycle drivers. Deliveries were banned and businesses closed down, including my furniture-making shop.”

Patreng realized how privileged she was. “I thought, hindi ito tama,” she said. “I knew I had to do something. I had hoarded so much food from that grocery run and there was still the ‘ayuda’ from the LGU (local government unit). I was sure my well-off neighbors wouldn’t be able to finish their food packs either.”

Bamboo cart

Early on April 14 last year, Patreng rolled out a bamboo cart filled with a few canned goods and other food items she could spare for the community. “I thought I’d put out the cart before I go jogging at 5 a.m., then haul it back in when I return from my evening walk,” she said of her original plan.

But the sight that greeted her when she came back from her morning jog changed all that: people patiently waiting their turn to get a few eggs, a tin of food, a bunch of greens—enough for a day’s meal.

In the following days, more people came, but they also left what little they could. A taho vendor gave away cups of the healthy curd. Someone passed around cones of “dirty ice cream” from his cart. A little girl shyly handed over a tall stalk of malunggay leaves.

The community pantry on Maginhawa swiftly grew. Upland farmers were leaving harvests of yams and cabbages, and market vendors were donating baskets of bananas. Kanto boys and tricycle drivers were repacking donated sacks of rice in small bags.

And similar community pantries were being put up in various cities and provinces.

The exuberant give and take of goods eventually exploded into a movement so potent that the government appeared to feel sufficiently threatened to call in its troops to bear down on Patreng and others like her.

The 26-year-old fine arts graduate of the University of the Philippines had begun a community pantry revolution—what some described as the “latest incarnation of people power” and others compared to the miracle of the loaves and fishes.

‘Gut issue’

The initiative that fed thousands, moved thousands more to give and help in various ways, inspired many more to set up big and small food stations, and brought back a sense of pride, dignity and self-worth to a people battered by the pandemic and government apathy made Patreng an easy choice as one of the Philippine Daily Inquirer’s Filipinos of the Year for 2021. (The other is weightlifter Hidilyn Diaz, who gave the Philippines its first Olympic gold.)

No one was more surprised than Patreng when her simple idea of sharing extra provisions with the hungry instantly took off and resulted in at least 6,700 community pantries sprouting nationwide within weeks.

She herself denied that it was a grand gesture. She was just “tired of complaining, tired of inaction,” and thought it was “time to do something.”

But that her “weird idea” would become viral also meant it was “a gut issue,” Patreng conceded. “A lot of Filipinos can relate—it is hard to think, study and work when you’re hungry,” she said.

Patreng was speaking from experience. Her parents separated when she was 2 years old, and she and three older siblings learned early on to make do with little.

To support the family, her mother took on all sorts of jobs—as a social worker, call center agent, marketing staff, teacher. The siblings attended public schools, with the enterprising Patreng selling bread and candies to her classmates to augment her baon.

The food on their table was never in excess: “Sakto lang,” she recalled.

Two years into the pandemic and her family’s past story of want became that of most Filipino households. Data from the Philippine Statistics Authority showed that the unemployment rate was 8.7 percent in April 2021, which translated to 4.14 million Filipinos jobless during the worst health and economic crisis in the country’s recent history.

In the 2020 Global Hunger Index, the Philippines ranked 69th among 107 countries.

And while the Bayanihan to Heal as One Act was signed in March 2020 to give President Duterte more authority to combat COVID-19, it provides for only P5,000 to P8,000 in emergency subsidy to qualified low-income households—a measly amount often given late through a distribution process rife with confusion and corruption.

Gap in gov’t response

This was the gap in government response that the community-pantry movement addressed.

“People want to give, they just need a venue to do it,” Patreng pointed out. “Pagbibigayan (giving) is part of Filipino culture, after all. Kelangan lang ma-normalize yung kindness.”

The community pantry has been compared to food banks in other countries, except that the local version represents much more than generosity of spirit and compassion for the poor.

With ordinary folk putting up stalls where people could take what they needed and leave what they could spare, the community pantry became a symbol of solidarity against an apathetic state—people linking arms to withstand the waves of despair brought by the pandemic and a lumbering bureaucracy.

Some see the community pantry as a form of mutual aid—people helping one another in the absence of government, a national unity born from want and necessity.

Journalist Boying Pimentel said Patreng “reminded us of a powerful idea—that we are one community; that in these dark times, we are responsible for one another, for that is how we can survive and thrive as a nation.”

For Patreng, the community pantry might well be a microeconomy in and of itself. To give to those in need, “we buy from local farmers, fishermen, food hawkers and vendors, even from closed-down restaurants in the area,” she said proudly then.

The abundant donations in cash and in kind allowed the Maginhawa pantry to become a main distribution hub, centralizing supplies and apportioning them to smaller pantries in poor neighborhoods.

Clear sign of hope

For all that it represents, the community pantry thrives because it is a practical idea polished by the pressure of famished times. It’s hard to resist the nearby pantry that offers food healthier and more diverse than what can be found in government aid packs. Donors find it useful to share surplus food that would otherwise land in the trash bin. Environmentalists cite the reduced carbon footprint, with the food exchange happening within neighborhoods.

In one of the best interpretations of the phenomenon, Caloocan Bishop Pablo Virgilio David described the community pantry as “one of the clearest and most tangible signs of hope” in a desolate landscape.

The cardboard sign inviting people to partake of public offerings will “forever erase the shame of the [signs] hung by killers” under the Duterte administration, David said, referring to the government’s war on drugs marked by extrajudicial killings (EJKs), with the dead identified as addicts in cardboard signs left on their corpses.

Maybe because selfless sharing is such a radical, even revolutionary, idea in times of scarcity, government lackeys were quick to seize on the community pantry as a show of defiance, a public pushback, people flipping the bird at state benevolence—and hey, is that a communist manifesto right there?

To be sure, the earnest “Magbigay ayon sa kakayahan, kumuha ayon sa pangangailangan” (Give what you can, take what you need)—the gracious reminder on the sign that hangs at every community pantry—sounds like the Marxist “From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs.”

It was enough to drive the National Task Force to End Local Communist Armed Conflict (NTF-Elcac) on the warpath, with its Undersecretary Severo Catura saying that community pantry organizers were “telling people that our government is palpak (a failure) and incapable of addressing our people’s needs in the time of the pandemic, and questions this government’s moral ascendancy to remain in authority.”

At a congressional inquiry into the community pantry in May 2021, then NTF-Elcac spokesperson Lt. Gen. Antonio Parlade Red-tagged Patreng and her project, as if to justify the intimidating visits to several pantries by police officers who demanded permits or personal information from frightened organizers. (The police eventually apologized.)

But death and rape threats forced Patreng to briefly suspend the Maginhawa pantry operations in the early days, fearing for her family’s security, and to later seek professional help for her mental health.

In a video posted on her Facebook account on Dec. 14, 2021, Patreng recounted how she had discussed the threats with her mother. If anything happened to her, she said she assured her mom, she was “solved” in her life, she had no regrets, she had done what she wanted: “Wala akong pinagsisisihan, ginawa ko lahat nang gusto ko. Kahit sa last breath, peaceful ako.”

Unfinished business

Nine months after Patreng first rolled out the bamboo cart that would change her life, the food donations have dwindled. Is the interest waning? Is her project on the way out?

Well, not that she’d mind, she said. When the time comes that the community pantry is no longer needed, she’d view it as a happy indication that “people are no longer hungry.”

But she remains optimistic that the project will endure mainly because it is an unfinished business being shaped, redefined and adapted by communities to fit their own needs.

“It’s not about me anymore; it’s about the community,” she said, recounting how villagers in Mindanao devastated by Typhoon “Odette” (international name: Rai) had used the fundamental idea to rally neighbors to get back on their feet.

“Schools, churches, NGOs (nongovernmental organizations), the local community, started collecting goods, packing food, setting up community kitchens, and taking care of the most vulnerable. There was no waiting for government to come in. They started helping themselves. It’s very empowering,” she said.

It’s also proof of people’s innate goodness, Patreng said. “In the long queues to the pantry, you’d see people ushering the elderly, the weak and the pregnant to the front of the line … And there’s always someone who would lead the prayers at the start of the distribution of goods!”

The sense of community is very strong, with people giving what they can and being useful in any way they can be, she observed. “This is the best time to revive our culture of pagbibigayan, when you are not judged by what you can give, or what you take. [There’s dignity now.] You see the sense of pride even among the tambay (street boys): See, we can also help. Even the families of EJK victims see themselves differently. [They’re no longer shunned or seen as frightening.] They’re part of the community now. [What surfaces is what we can do] even in the darkest hour.”

This year, Patreng is “excited” to see the community-pantry movement thriving—“tuloy-tuloy pa rin.”

“We will continue to find ways to help each other,” she declared last December in a video marking the project’s eighth month.

“We will continue to work, but also rest and take care of ourselves,” she said. “At the end of the day,” she said, not one person or one group would save the whole, but each would
be empowered to free the other: “Nasa atin pa rin ang kapangyarihang palayain ang isa’t isa.”

Source: https://newsinfo.inquirer.net/1543751/ana-patricia-non-her-foodcart-pushed-back-vs-apathy

Crafting inner peace

January 17, 2022

By Maan D’Asis Pamaran

Prior to the Covid-19 pandemic, Allyza “Yza” Tolentino, owner of Sunny Label was thick in the usual millennial pursuits: attending art-related and local indie gigs, traveling and documenting her journeys on her blog and social media accounts, and diving into DIY projects while maintaining a day job in marketing.

Allyza Tolentino Owner Sunny Label

“I hope you get the courage to start [your entrepreneurship], even with just the first step. You don’t need to have it all figured out as long as you keep moving forward.”

When restrictions were enforced, Yza decided to translate her artful interests into a business. She says: “I really adore scented candles, and as a person who loves creating things, I researched how to make them, did lots of experiments and presented them to friends as holiday gifts. I was actually encouraged to sell more, which I did!

Keeping the Sunny Label humming was Yza’s main activity during the health hiatus. Idyllic mountain and seascapes from previous travels served to inspire the container holders and scents of her product lines while only sustainable ingredients were used. Avoiding carcinogenic elements, she opted for 100 percent soy wax, instead of paraffin. The fragrance oils she used were also phthalate-free. “Candles are meant to relax you, not give you lung disease,” she reports.

The wooden wicks she uses are also lead-free compared with the usual cotton wicks, and she draws with chalk paint for the candle containers to make sure they are safe and non-toxic. “We don’t use harmful chemicals, questionable ingredients and plastic packaging,” she adds.

Her brand promise of mindful sustainability applies even to when she branched out to more products like their homebrewed kombucha tea, which is concocted only from natural fruit nectars and free from additives and preservatives. “After the candles, I discovered kombucha when I visited Siargao in Surigao del Norte Province. When I got home, I did my research, bought all the necessary ingredients and materials, and started brewing my own batch.

“When I was finally happy with my output, I started offering it in the shop. All our materials are carefully and locally sourced to make sure that they are good for you, the local livelihood and the environment.”

Artful things

As an only child, Yza says that she turned to imaginative play to keep loneliness at bay. “Our neighborhood also didn’t have a lot of kids, so I spent non-school hours helping my Lola Tiny Tolentino tend to her garden and trying to make Barbie clothes with my Lola Tessie San Jose. At one point, I sketched my own treasure hunt map, hid a treasure, and searched for it,” she laughs at the memory.

When time came to choose a college course, she took up communications at the University of the Philippines Baguio, where she emerged as a cum laude graduate. “If I was being honest, I didn’t really think that far ahead when I chose my course and even after I graduated. My mom taught me that I should just listen to myself and do what I want to do right now. If I changed my mind or found a new interest, I could just pivot as needed. So, right after college, I only knew that I wanted to try working in an office, go to meetings, and wear high heels and a pencil skirt just like in the movies,” she laughs. Her employment stints include features editor for a lifestyle website and head of Growth Marketing for a retail brand. She is currently the Lifecycle marketing manager of a direct-to-consumer company that is based in the US.

Her vision of working in a high-powered office took a backseat due to an epiphany she had a few years ago, she says. “I came upon this Japanese concept called “Ikigai.” In a nutshell, it is the reason why you wake up in the morning, what keeps you going and what you live for. I knew that my Ikigai doesn’t lie in getting a fancy job title or climbing the corporate ladder; it is my insatiable passion for creating things and making life better even in the simplest of ways.”

Her childhood ambitions that included being a wildlife photographer for National Geographic, a clothes maker, and a florist were translated into her passion projects through the years. These include launching a stray cat adoption movement called “Meownila,” doing pet photography for which she became an ambassador for Fujifilm, sewing her own clothes, creating flower wreaths, painting, holding yoga sessions, making websites, blogging and vlogging, and growing and selling plants.

Today, she merges her corporate experience with building her business. “My marketing background has been really helpful, especially with copywriting, making websites and taking product photos. I feel like I got that figured out already coming from my experience working with local and international retail stores for my day job.”

Allyza’s recollections of previous travel landscapes adorn her candle containers (left) and the artist in contemplative focus. CONTRIBUTED PHOTOS

She garners support from a community that has believed in her since Day 1. “I don’t really have the advertising budget to spare because I prioritize lower margins to make sure that our products remain affordable. The community, which started out with friends and friends of friends, has been reposting our Facebook posts, tagging the brand on Instagram photos, and sharing with their own circles. These seemingly small little things made it happen.” She has since expanded the Sunny Label product portfolio to include kombucha, tea blends, home sprays, microgreens kit, and even branded merchandise — all reflecting her personal aesthetic of calming colors and clean lines.

Mindful living

Through her brand, she also hosts engagements such as the #sunnybookclub, where she gets to personally connect and bond with our community, and moon sessions where she guide them through meditation, yoga and reflection prompts. “It’s a great way to attract kindred spirits, not just customers per se. After all, Sunny is not just a business. I think our brand values resonate with them. They appreciate the inspiration, creativity and uniqueness of each product since everything is handmade. It’s super refreshing connecting and co-creating with them.”

Mental health is something that she is passionate about; her business is a member of the Coalition for Mental Health spearheaded by Empath PH. “Having been diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and major depressive disorder, I personally and deeply understand the struggle and the persisting stigma around it. There’s a lot of work to be done, individually and as a community. I openly talk about my experience living with anxiety and depression, and also with therapy, to make it feel less scary for those who are also going through it, and those who don’t know where to start and how to seek professional help.”

Allyza’s brand also supports advocacies centered around people welfare and partners with NGOs like Waves for Water to help the fisherfolk community, and recently, helped with Typhoon “Odette” relief, rescue and recovery operations through Lokal Lab. “I believe we have the power to cultivate the world that we want. We have the power to make a difference, to influence other people and to work together,” she says.

For those keen to pursue entrepreneurship, she says: “I hope you get the courage to start, even with just the first step. You don’t need to have it all figured out as long as you keep moving forward.”

“A practical piece of advice that I can also share is to take advantage of the digital space, learn about the different platforms that could save you a lot of time and money, and have a consistent online presence. Sometimes, even the most random video of you making your products can go viral, and open doors of opportunities for you. You got this!”

* * *

ABOUT ME

Role models

It may be a cliché, but my main role models are my two lolas (grandmothers) because I grew up watching them create the most beautiful things out of the mundane, like dresses, flower arrangements, home cooked meals and more.

Goals

To live my daily life as mindful as I can be, to be present when I’m with my loved ones, grounded when I’m alone and at peace doing even the most basic chores.

First paying job

I did partner relations for Foodpanda

Morning ritual

I start the day by fixing the bed, stretching, looking outside my balcony and watering the plants.

Special skills

I can photograph food, pets, products, and also be friends with anyone.

Time spent on social media

Definitely more than I would like to.

Source: https://www.manilatimes.net/2022/01/16/business/sunday-business-it/crafting-inner-peace/1829515

On TikTok, she debunks lies about martial law with numbers

January 13, 2022

By: Nikka G. Valenzuela



Just like any other social media platform, TikTok, the hot social network for making and sharing short videos, is teeming with false narratives of martial law. A quick search of the term reveals many faceless videos that claim that the more than two decades of Marcos rule was the golden age of the Philippines—a pretty common lie perpetuated on the internet.

But among the sea of false claims and outright lies about the Marcos dictatorship, one TikTok video stands out: “the macroeconomic effects of the Marcos era to the lives of Filipino people” by Mona Magnu Veluz (@mightymagulang).

Veluz compares wages of Filipinos from 1962 (before Marcos entered office) to 1986 (when the late dictator was ousted in a bloodless revolution). She likewise tackles the massive debt that the Philippines incurred; the rise of the unemployment rate and the increase of the number of people who lived on the poverty level compounded by the fact that the prices of basic commodities shot up.

The history geek and genealogist who has a masters degree in Applied Business Economics hosts a TikTok series called “Today in History,” and for Sept. 21, 2021, she decided to talk about facts that could not be contested: numbers.

“I also was triggered by the fact that I saw several videos coming into that time that were saying that martial law was our golden years. And I looked at why they felt it was the golden years. They were talking about infrastructure, they were talking about questionable metrics, infrastructure. Yeah, I get the volume of buildings that were built, but there was really very little understanding from a macroeconomic perspective,” she told Lifestyle in an online interview.

1.6 million views

To make the video more approachable to viewers, Veluz said she selected numbers that were easily understandable.

“I really selected the simplest macroeconomic numbers that I could think of, and that would also reflect the things that people can feel, because everything else like infrastructure spending ratio, to GDP (gross domestic product), sometimes people don’t feel that, but wages, poverty level, that they can understand. And the reason I also brought up the loans is because for us Filipinos, we understand the concept of loan and credit card,” she added.

The video is the top result on TikTok (1.6 million views) upon searching “martial law” and has gained traction on social media sites. The video has become so popular that on top of citing sources, Veluz made a Google Doc explaining economic terms such as nominal and real wages, inflation and the like.

A lot of TikTokers like Veluz use the platform to counter false narratives on the social media platform. Veluz said there are professionals, entrepreneurs, doctors who make breakdown videos to debunk clips that spread false claims. They also jump into each other’s livestreams to talk about martial law.

A lot of TikTokers like Mona Magnu Veluz use the platform to counter false narratives about one of the darkest periods of Philippine history.

Need for truth commission

According to former Philippine Commission on Good Government chair Ruben Carranza, countering outright lies about the Marcos dictatorship does not simply mean teaching history correctly.

“The medium of teaching history and correcting false narratives by themselves can’t really counter social media as quickly as social media creates fabricated history and spreads it,” he said in an online interview.

Carranza, who is now with the International Center for Transitional Justice, explained that “The effort to establish a full narrative of what happened during the Marcos dictatorship and the initiative of taking that should have happened as soon as the dictatorship ended.”

He pointed out that the structures that created the dictatorship were left untouched after Marcos was ousted, and that the efforts in preserving the memories of the human rights violations and massive corruption during the martial law years took decades to materialize. One of these is the memorialization commission, which was created by law in 2013, about 27 years after the People Power Revolution.

The martial law museum, which will rise at University of the Philippines, Diliman, “will have to bear a lot of weight,” he added.

“It will have to carry such a burden that I think having a structure and having programs will help—people can see it, people can visit it. But then it would be insufficient because, like I said, you will have to deal with the baggage of decades because, in the meantime, the family and the network of families that you’re trying to account, they didn’t just sit idly and hide,” Carranza added.

But it’s not too late to counter the lies, he said. With or without the coming elections, there should be a truth commission to establish a full narrative on the martial law years, as well as reparations for victims and prosecution of human rights violations perpetrators.

Use social media to mobilize

He also noted that while social media has sometimes been portrayed as “a weapon against truth,” the internet has been utilized to actually overthrow entrenched authoritarian regimes like with the Arab Spring, which started in Tunisia in 2010.

“There was still a dictator in power, but it spread on the internet and social media was used by young people during the Arab Spring to resist dictatorship, to overthrow a dictator. It is possible to use social media to organize and mobilize,” he said.

The problem, however, is that social media has prioritized profits over communication.

“We should not see social media as inherently enablers of dictatorship and false histories, but at the same time, we must be very conscious of being used ourselves because we are consumers of social media for profit,” Carranza said.

He added: “So the solution in many ways is to also go on social media, but to go on social media with both an official narrative behind you, and a strategic, more realistic sense that your opponent has had a 20-30 year lead on you. You’re playing catch up. So again, the election is a good way to test how far you can catch up. But to be realistic, I think it’s important to remember to do this even beyond the election.”

It’s also important, he said, to go beyond the online space and look for local venues to reach out, especially with the history of local resistance to the Marcos dictatorship.

Veluz said that while TikTok is not meant to be a scholarly platform and bashers keep throwing mean comments, she and other users cite their sources.

“If you’re trying to win somebody, you don’t fight them even if they are very aggressive. You be as civil as you can. But you also stand your ground not when you’re, ‘I will call you out when you’re lying. Here’s the truth. These are my sources. This is the context.’

“I’ve seen a lot of good people step up to help fix what’s happening. I don’t know if it’s enough. There’s still a lot of people who are also throwing out opposite messages.” INQ

Source: https://lifestyle.inquirer.net/394819/on-tiktok-she-debunks-lies-about-martial-law-with-numbers/

 

Artist Profile: Pollyanna Dee

January 8, 2022

By Matthew Burgos



White and blue flowers bloom in the cracks of the woman’s face in ‘Daydream’. Split in half, her left face rests upon two hands that console her while her right face detaches itself from the commotion. Her eyes glisten with melancholy that her parted lips mirror. Her emotions overflow, consuming the way she commands her life and placing her into a state of reflection, a realm Pollyanna Dee knows by heart. “Art has always been my way of expressing what and how I feel, the depth of my state of mind. I often convey emotions that I cannot put into words through art. I think that there is true beauty in embracing your vulnerable self because that is what makes you human and brave; that is what may complete you,” the artist tells Our Culture.

A graduate of Visual Communication from the University of the Philippines, the Manila-based visual artist leans on abstraction and surrealism dotted with lines and shapes, distorted figures, and varying hues. “Most of my works are drawn with charcoal, ink, and through mixed media. I recently started playing with digital art because I think that there is a wide array of possibilities that digital can do. It also allows me to elevate and experiment with the textures, compositions, and colors of my artworks to tell a story,” she says.

Emotions epitomize Dee’s art language. At times, she dabs the eyes with tears; other times, she muddles her characters’ faces to signal disruption or disharmony. Whatever sentiment clouds her creativity, she defines her works as a visual diary, a volley of images rather than texts, layered with elements of self, life, and ruminations. “Most of my works are inspired by the strength I find and exude at my most vulnerable times, a journey towards self-acceptance,” she shares.

Shonna Waters, BetterUp’s Vice President of Alliance Solutions, notes in her article about the path to self-acceptance how the lack of it hinders a person’s ability to achieve their full potential. “People with high self-acceptance are more resilient to criticism. They understand that it is okay to accept themselves while also working for continuous self-improvement,” she writes. “Self-acceptance is the act of accepting yourself and all your personality traits exactly as they are. You accept them no matter whether they are positive or negative. This includes your physical and mental attributes.”

Dee’s quest for self-acceptance through art touches on women empowerment and mental health. She carves a path for those who find themselves in the same boat as hers, a battle against anxiety and depression to see through one’s value and worth. “My artworks convey the importance of recognizing our feelings with bravery and without shame, thus also focusing on mental health. They reflect the intimate and entrenched struggles within me, showing the essence of our ability to process and let go of what harms us to fiercely show on the outside who we are, that we are strong despite our flaws. Our vulnerability is not a sign of weakness but of strength and self-love. There is nothing wrong with that,” she says.

The woman’s face in ‘Headspace’, perhaps an indication of the artist’s portrait, floats in the air along with smokes. Inquisitive eyes peek through the slit of her split head. Her hands appear in the back and foreground, reaching out for help, for connection, for a renewed life amidst the chaos. Above the canvas, a yellow moon glimmers and shadows a tiny ballet dancer tiptoeing on the woman’s nose. It gestures a climb towards rebirth that Dee affirms. “The feeling of isolation, loneliness; of slowly drowning but still fighting our individual battles; of still hanging in there while hoping for a brighter tomorrow,” she explains.

Tears spring from the fought battles in ‘Breathe’. The woman lifts her chin up as she faces to the right, her skin and hair enveloped with tears. A black smudge censors her mouth, trapping the oxygen in her lungs. “I thought of capturing that the release of emotions that, in the end, feels brave and freeing. Through the good and the bad, we are brave in our own, honest, and beautiful way,” the artist shares.



The narration peaks as ‘Rise’ enters the trilogy. The battle has eased off and a fleeting moment of rest has leapt. The woman soars on the horizon, marked with scars through the foliage, marble-like swirls, red desert, and white sun tattooed on her skin and body. Creeping out of her mouth, pink flowers blossom. As Dee tells Our Culture, she drew the piece from the quote quiet strength is still strength. “During these hard times, when everything seems uncertain, may this be a reminder for us to be kind to ourselves, to pace into each moment and know that it is okay to be vulnerable. In the quiet, slower moments, we are strong.”

Pollyanna Dee employs art as a medium of self-acceptance and embraces sentiments as they come, extending her practice to those who seek a haven of enlightenment. As smokes cloak her characters’ faces and flowers grow as an emblem of valor, the artist embodies courage against adversity, freedom from fear of emotions, and congruence with self, hoping her audience will follow suit.

Source: https://ourculturemag.com/2022/01/05/artist-profile-pollyanna-dee/

How this fruit vendor’s daughter rose to become IS Manila and Harvard scholar

January 7, 2022

Rose Sagun says she owes her success to the bravery of two women who raised her, and to an international education that started at age 11

“It is not an overstatement to say that education can change a girl’s life; it changed mine,” says Rose Sagun.

 

Former International School Manila (ISM) and Harvard University scholar Rose Sagun turns sentimental looking back at her and her family’s journey over the past decades. Some would have thought it unlikely for someone like her to enjoy the best education in the most prestigious schools. She’s the daughter of a humble fruit vendor, a single mother who used to live in the slums of Tondo. How can they afford the best schools?

But Rose, who just finished her Masters in International Education Policy at Harvard, says the trajectory of her life changed because of two things. “The unblinking bravery of the women who raised me and my merit scholarship to an international education at 11 years of age.”

Rose says the most important inheritance she got from her grandmother and mother is not an Ivy League diploma. “It’s more than that,” she says. “It is the sheer, undeniable power of faith.”

A tale of three women

The two women Rose is talking about are her mother, Luz Sagun, and her lola Bebiana Sajonia. Her grandmother, a native of Panay, only reached fifth grade. She was also a fruit vendor. “At the crack of dawn, she would walk for miles across stretches of farmlands, looking for new harvest,” Rose says, recalling what she was told. “[Lola] would negotiate with farmers for their produce and bring the harvest to the nearest town.”

Rose’s mother, the fifth among nine children, grew up in this kind of life. She would recount to Rose the joy she’d feel hauling her harvest over the roof of a jeepney, going to the bayan at daybreak, selling fruits the entire day, then heading home with just enough to put food on the table.

“What struck me with this memory is how my mother remembers it: it was not about what she didn’t have; it was about what she gained,” Rose tells ANCX. Through this experience, her mother learned the value of hard work and also nurtured her entrepreneurial skills.

Her mother eventually earned a scholarship to study at the nearby college and worked at the library to earn extra money. As soon as she graduated, she got on a one-way boat to Manila to start a new life. She arrived in Manila in the ‘60s.

Rose came into her mother’s life in 1986. “My mom persevered, working up to three jobs at times, to make sure I didn’t grow up in the same slums where she lived,” says Rose. Her mother also made sure to save her hard-earned P500 at the end of every month so Rose could go to the bookstore and buy books to read. “I didn’t have much growing up, but I had a treasure trove of books, my most prized possessions, and I felt I had wealth because of them.”

Rose says what convinced her to apply for ISM scholarship “was my mother’s call to challenge,” she recalls. “She convinced me that the process was more important than the destination.”

Best years

Easter Sunday of 1998 will forever be etched in Rose’s memory. It was the day her mother chanced upon an ad from ISM. It was an announcement for its Philippine scholarship program. At 11 years old, Rose did not know what a full scholarship to one of the most selective international schools in the region meant. She was initially hesitant to apply for an IS scholarship, as that would mean leaving her friends in the elementary school in Quezon City she was enrolled in.

“What convinced me to apply was my mother’s call to challenge,” she recalls. “She convinced me that the process was more important than the destination: I applied to the program because I wanted to experience what it would be like to take an international standardized exam. I was curious to see what I knew, but more importantly, what I did not know yet.”

What Rose didn’t know then was that exam would actually change her life. “After going through the application process, whatever hesitation in me has dissipated,” she says.

She still recalls her amazement seeing her new school for the first time. “I could not believe that a school like this could even exist! How could a school have three gyms, a tennis court, and two swimming pools? How could classrooms be air-conditioned? Even the school buses looked like they came straight out of a Hollywood movie! I knew then and there I wanted the scholarship, and I am thankful to have received it.”

Rose says her ISM days—all seven years of them—were the best years of her childhood. “ISM enabled me to see how vast the world was and how far-reaching my potential was,” she shares. Rose is grateful for the world-class teachers and the school’s vast collection of books and resources. She also gained lifelong friends from different parts of the world. “My ISM years felt like moving to the fast lane of life, and world after world appeared before my eyes,” she says.

Rose obtained her Master’s degree in International Education Policy at Harvard University.

Paying it forward

A bigger world has beckoned since. After spending seven years at ISM, Rose went to UP Diliman to earn her business degree; she graduated with honors. After gaining some work experience, she studied at Harvard via a scholarship and obtained her Master’s degree in International Education Policy. During her stint there, she co-authored the book “Empowering Teachers to Build a Better World” with Harvard Professor Fernando Reimers and some of her fellow classmates.

This multi-faceted lady also worked on a project commissioned by the Vice Provost for Advances in Learning (Harvard VPAL). The said initiative promotes more women in leadership roles and creates a more inclusive, equitable environment in the business world.

Rose was also able to present a large-scale project on design thinking for 400 schools at the Comparative and International Education Society (CIES) conference, the largest and oldest society on global education in the world in San Francisco.

Rose showing a book she co-authored with Harvard Professor Fernando Reimers

Now in her 30s, Rose works at The Education Commission, which has a global initiative of ensuring inclusive and quality education for all. The members of the Commission include current and former heads of state and government, government ministers, five Nobel laureates, and leaders in the fields of education, business, economics, development, health, and security. “My work on High Touch High Tech specifically focuses on the ways in which artificial intelligence and transformations in teaching and learning can unlock personalized learning for all, especially for learners who are furthest behind,” she says.

Looking back at the past three decades of her life, Rose realized she got the most important inheritance from her grandmother and mother. “It’s not an Ivy League diploma. It’s more than that,” she says. “It is the sheer, undeniable power of faith. And that same unyielding faith, that spanned exactly 100 years since my grandmother’s birth, travelled from the rice paddies of Panay to the slums of Tondo to finally at Harvard.”

[The International School Manila’s Philippine Scholarship application search for ISM’s Class of 2027 Filipino Scholars is now open for the school year 2022-2023. Deadline for submissions is on January 10, 2022 (Monday).For more information on qualifications and requirements, visit: www.ismanila.org/our-community/scholarships-at-ism]

Source: https://news.abs-cbn.com/ancx/culture/spotlight/01/05/22/how-fruit-vendors-daughter-became-is-harvard-scholar