Community

I am leaving the city I've lived in for most of the past 6 years. I'm worried of loneliness. I'm worried of disconnection. And I just figured out why. Well, specifically on June 17 2020 at 1:15 am.

This is the longest I've come to know and embed myself in a community. I was constantly moving around - at least that's what it felt like - that it was never a thing for me to have planted roots in one place and blossomed there. 

And it's not like I was scared of racism or discrimination anywhere I went - but don't get me wrong, a big part of me is, because racism manifests itself in every system I come in contact with, and race is a visible part of my identity. But I've always experienced some form of discrimination, even at the hands of Filipinx peers in motherland. I've always felt alienated, like I'm always missing something everyone has known their entire lives - from classroom memories to favourite "tambayan" spots to tv shows they watched growing up to slang to significant cultural events. 

I'm always piecing parts of who I am based on parts of where I lived. It taught me to coast through life, to just follow the flow. It taught me to be strong too, but by pushing me to work 10x harder just so I can prove that I am worthy to be in the room. And I put myself in the passive and "it" (this overlooming feeling, condition, phenomenon, whatever it is) in the active because... I felt powerless. There are many days when I still do. Feeling like I'm coasting.

Now, for the most part, I am awake. I feel alive. In control. I have lost many memories from my childhood and young life - it has become a running joke in my family. Some things take more effort to be interested in, and it definitely takes a lot more energy to invest in the things I love. But my art and my activism gives me a sense of purpose. A reason to get up in the morning and engage with the world, no matter how sad and cruel it can get.