The reading tonight was quite successful, thanks to the very talented writers and organizers I was honored to share space with. It’s humbling to be a part of such talented company, and just five years ago, when I made a commitment to take my writing more seriously, I never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would be reading for PAWA. When I consider the long history deeply rooted in PAWA and the many successful writers and authors associated with it, it’s almost crippling to fathom that PAWA not only recognizes my work but also honors it with a special event. It truly is encouraging. I don’t take an opportunity like this lightly.
Because of this, I knew that what I selected to read had to reflect me. Full disclosure, I’ve had trouble defining my work recently, because I’m reconsidering the messages and themes I want to send to readers. Most of my stories are inspired by my life, and it’s a very colorful life where people make bad decisions. I don’t know how else to write other stories. My stories are not laden with political, racial language that disrupts systemic policies and radical change. I wish it did. I read a lot and read a lot of work that does this meaningful work. And my stories take up a small fraction of the literary space. I believe that representation matters and I have to write for myself. These stories matter to me and while they don’t reflect many peoples’ lives, they reflect my life, my thoughts and my creativity, and I’m lucky that organizations like PAWA embrace this.
On top of supporting teachers during distance learning, moving to a new place, occasionally being the moderator for my husband’s twitch show, posting on my blog, I am also taking a class to fulfill my TESOL certificate. Every weekend, I spend about 8-10 hours reading articles and textbooks, watching instructional videos, posting and responding to the class discussion board, and completing tests and writing papers or assignments. At the end of a long work week, although I like learning, the requirements for the class are a bit overwhelming for my schedule. Nevertheless, I’m committed to staying on schedule and taking the classes as they are offered. I started the journey in March and this is my third class. I hope to complete my certification by March 2021.
I usually spend Saturday and Sunday doing my assignments, but this weekend was a little more complicated; I had to complete everything today (Saturday) because I need to focus tomorrow’s time and energy preparing for my reading on Tuesday. I don’t want to be distracted.
When I opened up my computer and saw the long list of assignments I had to do, I was immediately engulfed in panic and stress. There was so much to do! I had to take a test, watch instructional videos, post a comment and respond to two classmates’ comments, read four chapters, and turn in a 4 minute voice recorded assignment. I sat on the couch, and plopped the laptop on my thighs and noticed the time –1:00 PM — and began typing. The next thing I knew, I looked up at it was 5:00 PM. At this point, although it felt irresponsible but at the same time necessary, I took a break– a two hour break! In fact, I actually watched a Hallmark Christmas movie called “Jingle Bell Bride,” and I lOVED it. Full disclosure: I am a huge fan of cheesy, Christmas movies and if they are on Hallmark, even better. When I saw that the Hallmark Holiday movie count down to Christmas started today at 5:00 PM, I had no problem with putting my computer aside and getting hella comfortable with my throw blanket and fluffy pillow. I figured that I had a a strong start, why not celebrate.
Believe it or not, but as soon as the movie finished, two hours later, I went back to working on my assignments. Even my husband looked at my sideways and asked how I can transition so quickly from being cozy to being studious. I told him there was something about the movie that inspired me to keep going.
Who knew that if you ever need to finish a long list of tasks and have impending stress about it, all you need to do is watch a Christmas movie and let it fill you with cheer and hope, knowing that anything is possible, especially when you’re in need of a little bit of Christmas spirit and miracle.
P.S. I highly recommend “The Jingle Bell Bride”. If you want me to post my Hallmark holiday movie recommendations for this year, let me know.
PPS. I completed everything by 9:30 PM today! Hence why I am posting on my blog at 10:15 PM on a Saturday. LOL
The parks just opened in our city, and despite it being still sunny at 6:30 PM, the area of the park we were at was empty with the exception of 2-3 kids at different times. The slide wasn’t very steep– about 6 feet and and everyone, including my husband, sister and her boyfriend took turns going down the slide with my niece, Aiza. But I didn’t. The slide has always been my least favorite past time in the park; I prefer the swings, but at the part we were at, it didn’t have adult swings available. Besides (TMI), I’m on my dot, so the idea of sliding down a flimsy piece of plastic did not seem comforting or fun. Instead I lived vicariously through my niece.
What was interesting is that she went down the slide about 20 times in the same way- butt down and feet first. When another girl about 2-3 years older than her came close, they immediately began playing together. The girl had on a mask and she was very friendly, even when my niece wasn’t talking very much. The new friend showed Aiza how to play the pretend steering wheel; she showed her how to stick her head out the window in the pretend store and then she showed her various ways to play on the slide. First she went down the slide on her stomach, feet first then Aiza followed. Then the girl went down the slide, stomach down, head first with her arms stretched out. What surprised me was that Aiza wasn’t even scared and didn’t ask how to do this. She just watched and followed along. Then a few minutes later, the new friend made a daring move and climbed up the the slide, all by herself. Because she’s a little older, she was able to do it without struggling. We – me, my sister – watched but we didn’t expect Aiza to follow. Yet, Aiza did. But when she reached the middle of the slide, there was no way for her to get to the top. If she bent down, she wouldn’t be able to hold the sides of the slide and there was possibly of her falling backwards. My sister and I were at a safe distance and could have easily come to her aid, but something unexpected happened. Without talking, the two friends she just made instinctively got on their stomachs and stretched their arms out to give Aiza a hand. They cheered her on and said “reach for my hand” and Aiza, not able to speak in complete sentences yet, understood exactly what to do. She grabbed their hand and the two strangers pulled her up! For a group of girls who met each other for the first time and had limited talking and interacting, this was the first real reminder for me that despite what’s happening during this pandemic, I’m reminded how resilient and strong young girls are when they are together.
I’m excited to share that I will be a guest reader next Tuesday, October 27 at 5:00 PM PST for PAWA/ The Digital SALA event: Filipinx Emerging Writers.
Well, there comes a time in everyone’s life where in one day you experience the thrill of checking off a few items on your bucket list, all in one day. Today, that happened to me, and one wasn’t even on my bucket list.
Wedding Crasher
I started off the morning watching a DJ on Twitch and within a few minutes, he announced that we would be virtually crashing a wedding! He was invited by a subscriber and was asked that after his Twitch show to crash a wedding with all his subscribers. That morning he had over 100 viewers. It was an odd experience- attending a stranger’s wedding while I sat at home, in bed, with my pajamas on. But by the time the bride and groom said “I do” I was full on emotional, crying into my pillow, thinking about my own wedding. I never thought I’d have the opportunity to crash someone’s wedding, even if it was virtually, in Las Vegas, being invited by a DJ with a hundred other people, who I didn’t even know. But when the classic vows were said, in that moment, regardless of the unfamiliarity of the situation, we all felt connected and one. It’s so amazing how the internet can bring people together to participate in a shared experience.
Like Mother, Like Daughter
Growing up, I was constantly compared to my dad. The dark skin, the dimples, thin lips, our penchant for adventure and traveling. Then there was that one summer when my Dad and I went to Guam where I got to know him a little better. But today, when my mom and dad came to visit us at our new place and while I was showing them around, the similar interest my mom and I share was evident. I showed her my thriving plant collection, my color coded bookshelf, my highly utilized sewing machine in which I inherited from her, and the pan of japchae I cooked for the first time. My mother has had a green thumb her entire life. In the Philippines she has a garden filled with fruit trees and exotic plants. Check out the video and pictures below. Her house is always immaculate, being compared to a museum because of its cleanliness and aesthetics. My mom also sews (pillows, curtains, clothes, etc.) and is a trained chef at heart. Her palobok, siopao and flan are highly requested by family and friends. Growing up with such a role model can be extremely intimidating. There’s nothing my mom can’t do, well. So when it was time for me to do some things on my own, I definitely had big shoes to fill. Yet, when my mom came over and I pointed out all the meaningful things I’ve done, she said “you’re becoming like me.” At a different time, I would have cringed, but today I was beaming with pride.
Dinner Party!
Something that I didn’t even consider but was worthy of sharing today was hosting my family. In the previous homes I lived, it was far and didn’t have adequate space to have people over. But today, it was so pleasant to have my family (sans my brother who was helping someone move) come over. Our place is relatively small- we don’t even have a dining table and we eat on the couch or on the floor in our living room, yet everyone seemed comfortable eating Korean food and catching up on life that the space or lack of a table, didn’t seem to matter. We were so focused with what was in front of us that the moment was all around perfect and meaningful. I never thought I’d be able to host a dinner party without a table! It made me realize that we can’t hold back from the things we want to experience merely because the situation isn’t perfect. Many beautiful things are possible if we look, appreciate and utilize what we have.
Check out my parents’ front yard in the Philippines:
Pictures of my parents’ garden in the Philippines and a family photo of us today
Today I attended the Pinayista Summit — “a weekend gathering of pinays in the hustle filled with speakers, panels, lightning talks, interactive workshops, music, sporadic dancing, and meaningful connections.” I wanted to join this summit because I’ve had a trying and challenging 8 weeks at work I needed space to be held by a community and creatives. I desperately needed this experience.
There were many moments in the summit that were valuable and memorable, but one in particular was during the Healing Racial Trauma In Our Bodies & Bloodlines workshop with Chanel Durley from 33 and Rising. Here’s more about the workshop:
“For many of us, the last few months has been triggering on a deep emotional level. As we commit to learning and doing the inner work of being Anti-racist, many are feeling paralyzed by the emotions and realizations that are coming to the surface. The fact of the matter is, we can’t talk about Race without bringing up Trauma – The Trauma of old memories, past lived experiences and the Generational Trauma that has been passed down to us from our Ancestors. But if these traumas can be passed down, so can our healing. In this workshop, we will dive deeper into Healing Racial Trauma in our bodies with a focus on Identity. We will explore the effects of White body supremacy mindset, and how we are all complicit in adopting this mindset in society. We’ll end with a short active Breathwork meditation. When we heal ourselves, we heal the generations that have come before us, and the generations that will come after us. This workshop will arm you with innate tools and knowledge to integrate healing in your body as you continue on in this Revolution.”
As you can see, it was a very deep and transformative session, one that literally left me shaking and breathing deeply, in healthy and healing ways. At the onset, I called my ancestors Lolo Imo and Lola Connie to help me prepare for the moment. I didn’t necessary grow up with Lolo Imo and Lola Connie. but I have pivotal memories that included them during my primal years. Lola Connie lived with us when she was diagnosed and battling Cancer. Father Imo died in his sleep one morning in the summer. I was the second person to find him. The first was his wife, my grandmother, Lola Tad, who shook me awake and asked me to “wake up, Grandpa.” When I saw him lying on the bed, mouth slightly agape, I instinctively knew something was wrong. Minutes later, when the ambulance arrived, they couldn’t resuscitate him and pronounced him dead. M grandmother, with her limited English, didn’t understand. It was one of the hardest, most difficult, most traumatic memories in my life. Till this day, my husband is still not allowed to sleep before me, an agreement I set early on in our relationship since my lolo’s death has ultimately triggered the way I view sleep and rest.
I bring this up because one of the statements that Chanel brought up was:
“You are your ancestors’ wildest dream”
I don’t know if Chanel is the original person to have said this quote, but I heard it the first time from her, so I’m giving her full credit.
When I think about the purpose of my life and the achievements, large or small, I’ve achieved in my life, I wonder if that is what my ancestors, specifically my Lola and Lola had in mind as they fought cancer, as they slumbered and took their last breath. Am what I’m doing now worthy of their life struggles? Did everything they did in life to guarantee the success of their children, which led to the trajectory of my life, honor them by the way I lived my life? It’s a question I’ve asked myself before Chanel’s workshop but given the quote and wisdom Chanel shared, I examined the answer a little differently.
According to Chanel, she said that we must release this burden from ourselves.We must replace that burden with acknowledgement and full sincerity, meaning we have to let go of their survival and acknowledge that your ancestors did this for you to be here today! In those words, I reckoned with this guilt and shame that I carried in my body, specifically in my lower belly where trauma and stress live. I realized that my lolo and lola didn’t put any expectation on me to carry out a certain fulfillment. Besides, I don’t think there’s anything I can do to honor the sacrifices they made in life, for the sake of my and my family’s well- being. I can be successful and be a millionaire yet that still doesn’t seem like the most apt and significant ways to honor my ancestors and their struggles. This also doesn’t necessarily mean that I shouldn’t apply myself either. When I look at my life, sure there are many aspects that I can work on — like owning a house, having a child, saving more money. But overall I’m thriving. I feel it in my body and in my heart. I have a safe space to call home. I have a loving and supportive husband. I read and write, and at times I have the privilege of sharing my work in places I never dreamed to be a part of. I have a few things published in the literary world and hold a graduate degree in Creative Writing. I mention these things not to gloat, but rather to recognize that for a person who’s entire family spoke a different language and attended school at a certain grade, it is quite glorious to be able to say that in my small ways I carry my ancestors through words and wisdom. These might not equate to monetary success, but I am remarkably valiant and hopeful that my ancestors are proud of me.
Part of my job requires me to administer Statewide tests to students and notify parents of the outcome. Today, I had the pleasure of notifying parents that their child met all the requirements for RFEP- which basically means that the student “routinely demonstrates fluent English proficiency in order to access grade-level content instruction delivered in English with minimal linguistic support.” Many students who speak another language rarely achieve this accomplishment, so it was particularly heart-warming to bear good news, especially in a time when many parents and children have been affected by distance learning. I know some cases where students are hanging up in the middle of zoom class because they’re confused by the lecture or assignment or families having spotty internet because they are living out of a friend’s garage, or many families relying on the school’s free lunch so that at least the children are fed daily. Many of these inequalities have occurred long before COVID, but surely the pandemic has exacerbated the disproportion of resources for many of our vulnerable families. So, although my conversion with families today didn’t necessarily provide an extra form of income, an extra meal or even a house, the news did bring temporary relief– that despite all the economical, social and academic challenges, their child is excelling and being recognized by their mastery level. I hope hearing this triumphant recognition was a much needed respite that so many families are in desperate need of hearing.
On the way to the store today, my sister and I had a conversation about romance. I shared with her that the best advice I received about romance was from a marriage retreat Mel and I attended before we got married. It was a requirement for our Catholic wedding, and at the time I placed little value in the experience but now, years later, I realize that much of the advice and wisdom imparted on me then applies to the core of my relationship now.
At the retreat, a couple who had been married for over 30 years stood on stage and literally held hands through out the entire presentation. My first impression was to give an eye roll because I questioned if the overt display of public attention was necessary, an act or genuine. The husband seemed to be leading the presentation, and awkwardly used his other hand to gesticulate his points; meanwhile the wife’s voice quivered at times, both her hands clutched his. But at the end, I understood why they were in complete embrace.
The husband brought up romance and asked if anyone knew what that meant. No one, in a roomed filled with at least 50 couples, raised their hand, or at least that’s how I remembered it. He explained that romance is not what we envisioned it to mean. It’s not always about roses, spontaneity, or stolen kisses. Instead he said that romance is telling your partner exactly what you need. It’s easier said than done, he stated. One has to be completely honest, vulnerable and have a depth and breadth of oneself to fully articulate their needs to their partner. One practical advice the wife gave was to write a list together and revisit it from time to time. She shared that when she was a new mother, she expressed that her needs were a little different than they at the beginning of their marriage, where she wanted date nights, dancing, and vacations. But when she was a new mother, she remembered that nothing was more romantic than her husband allowing her to sleep, getting the groceries and making dinner, or folding her clothes while she nursed the baby. He on the other hand wanted to watch a movie together on Friday nights, go camping and fishing, or wake up to a pot of hot coffee.
On paper and especially in society, these small acts of intimacy aren’t necessarily considered “romantic” but it’s what was meaningful at the time, and while getting coffee or folding clothes doesn’t seem like tall orders to ask, for a new couple with a child, they seemed like the most impossible things to regularly commit to. But they both understood that this is what their partner wanted and weighed a lot of meaning, and sometimes begrudgingly, but always lovingly they were there for each other.
I guessed that maybe, on the wife’s list, at the time what she needed was for her husband to hold her hand whenever she felt nervous; it was obvious that this was difficult for him to do-emotionally and physically support his wife while he gave a presentation to a room filled with complete strangers. But he did it. And when I think about the vulnerability it required the both of them to display and muster during this important moment, I couldn’t think of a more grand and romantic gesture each partner could do for one other.
Sheila E. Navarro 