Dear Meg,
How can I turn my grief into courage? I am a solidarity activist for the Philippines and I was blacklisted. At least under the current system, it is likely I cannot return to a place I consider my home. I haven’t let myself cry because there is so much to do but it’s always lurking.
Thanks always,
G
Dear G,
Thank you so much for reaching out, and thank you even more for your solidarity.
I think I understand your grief. Nobody wants to be parted from home, and in your case, I know the word takes on an even deeper meaning.
Here is an archipelago of more than 7,000 islands, boiling hot in the summer, wet if not flooded from June to December. Outside of its noisy, chaotic cities, one finds some of the most glorious beaches and rivers, lakes, forests and mountain ranges. But more than these natural wonders, this country gleams with treasures of another kind: its people’s supreme love of freedom, storied courage and long tradition of resistance.
The Philippines has been repeatedly colonized, yet its populace was resolute on a national identity, and fierce about community. Amid bloody wars, dictatorships, and storms literal and figurative, a people’s movement has persevered, birthing generations upon generations of heroes and martyrs. It’s the same movement, I believe, that crossed oceans and brought you here.
I can then imagine that this is a place where you found yourself ever more connected to who you are, and to every fellow human. Here, you discovered that you have the power to contribute to something bigger, even as the world order always bet on you believing otherwise.
It might be hard for the privileged to understand, but there’s nothing like the moment one realizes why they were born, and that there’s so much more to life than happiness and comfort. When one decides to spend as much of their time on earth as possible, to fight for the best things for everyone.
I’m sure you’ve met people here who understood that feeling, and who claimed you as part of the family, as I do even if we’ve never met. It’s a bond forged on shared values, commitment and desires—the most powerful kind.
Together, we take pride in a movement that’s organized, and has a leadership and a long-term plan. There’s nothing spontaneous about this formation. It responds to social malaise based on a considered view of an ideal society, and is deeply rooted in the communities. It strives to learn from the past —from successes as well as from mistakes—and is prepared to carry out a long-drawn resistance. Over decades, it has united people from all walks of life, speaking the same language, embracing the same ideals: of courage, commitment, and sacrifice.
I think home is also where these people are. Not just Filipinos but every member of the oppressed classes trying to bring down the tyranny of patriarchy and capital. As in the immortal words of Che Guevara, “Every human who trembles with indignation at every injustice is a comrade of mine.”
The next step then is to keep creating and strengthening communities that nurture the same feeling of home, spaces where you are accepted, respected, and most of all, encouraged, emboldened, and empowered to take part in the struggle.
I have absolute faith that you and our other comrades can build this in and with each other. And I believe that wherever you carry our fight for a better world, we are beside you, which means that in a way, you will always, always be home.
Lastly, I wanted to say that it’s perfectly alright to cry, even when there’s a lot to do. There are no rules. You can cry while doing something or pause to let it out. In Filipino it sounds better: “ihinga” or “ilabas”, so that you will end up “naibsan,” or feeling lighter, because you’ve relieved yourself of some of your load.
They say grief is love with no place to go, and it might help to come to an acceptance of it, of this love that you have in another form. I’ve shared William Faulkner’s words before: “Between grief and nothing, I will take grief.”
We take this grief, and claim it as the ache in our heart for justice and freedom. We choose this painful longing over feeling nothing.
Have a great week ahead, G, and sending you much love and light.
Love,
Meg
Also dedicating this to D, P, G, and other friends who miss home.
