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| Photo by Joanne Wellington |
We all know we can't change the past. The irony though is the predilection of people toward it, and their seemingly insatiable feat to throw labels at you the way they remember you years ago. Oh! Their audacity!
In an attempt to curtail my apparent tendency to dwell on the affect of opinion of others, I've opted to put the language on paper--in this case, my blog. As the saying goes, pain is inevitable, sufferring is optional.
There's a thin line that separates foolishness from naivety, and that to me is a misguided youth. Parents who don't rebuke or lack the initiative to guide their children other than exasperating them for the responsibilities supposedly their own, create rebels in their own home. I was one of those kids--young and parochial, almost apathetic. I had an obdurate impression of life as a young child that poverty was the root of all evil. 70's and 80's were the most turbulent years in the Philippines economically. My parents impressed on me at a young age to work and labor. And that's all I knew growing up.
I have relatives who were born to privilege, and I feel there is something sacrilegious about it because it blindsides them of the sufferring of others. Actually, I'm confused whether their wealth or personal hubris made them feel superior. Nonetheless, they were the object of my envy. Poverty was the source of my rebellion, and yet it became the very source of my awakening, too.
I struggled a lot in my childhood until early adult years. While I finished college for free through scholarship, the daily provision for transport and food were the main problems. Therefore, I did odd jobs to cover living expenses and school projects in college. In my country, one of the ramifications of being born to a poor family could mean denial of education. I didn't want to be a part of the statistics, so I tried very hard to balance work and school at the same time.
I did the unorthodox in a society where norms and values contradict each other. Coming back home past 10pm from school was anomalous to some. They didn't know I had to work from 6am to 3pm prior to that. I was labeled many names. To their dismay, I graduated with honors 6 years later. My life changed drammatically ever since.
The drudgery of my everyday struggles was seen as culpable to many who wanted to put me in a box. I was always criticized. I was deeply hurt, but the most machiavellian response I could afford was plain silence. As young and as callow as I was, how would I know how to frustrate their ill judgement?
The world offers a generous number of shrewd people who finds pleasure in criticizing and labeling people. Thing is, I hardly would have thought that such labeling has the power to wound a person this long a time. I think people label others to cover their own insecurities. As for me, I can't keep on burying them under the sand because the ground will eventually shake underneath me. They all have to go--for good! Even if it means severing ties.
I struggled a lot in my childhood until early adult years. While I finished college for free through scholarship, the daily provision for transport and food were the main problems. Therefore, I did odd jobs to cover living expenses and school projects in college. In my country, one of the ramifications of being born to a poor family could mean denial of education. I didn't want to be a part of the statistics, so I tried very hard to balance work and school at the same time.
I did the unorthodox in a society where norms and values contradict each other. Coming back home past 10pm from school was anomalous to some. They didn't know I had to work from 6am to 3pm prior to that. I was labeled many names. To their dismay, I graduated with honors 6 years later. My life changed drammatically ever since.
The drudgery of my everyday struggles was seen as culpable to many who wanted to put me in a box. I was always criticized. I was deeply hurt, but the most machiavellian response I could afford was plain silence. As young and as callow as I was, how would I know how to frustrate their ill judgement?
The world offers a generous number of shrewd people who finds pleasure in criticizing and labeling people. Thing is, I hardly would have thought that such labeling has the power to wound a person this long a time. I think people label others to cover their own insecurities. As for me, I can't keep on burying them under the sand because the ground will eventually shake underneath me. They all have to go--for good! Even if it means severing ties.
