Dear Meg

Dear Meg, how can I inspire hope despite my problems?


Key to the practice of collective care is a faith in everyone’s ability to provide care.

Dear readers,

How are you? I hope you’re all doing well.

Thank you so much for your continued support, even as this year was filled with workshops, interviews for a book project, and doctoral studies. I’d probably still be busy with them in the foreseeable future, but hope to eventually write back more (publicly)!

I’ve been composing this reply for some time, and thought it could be a great message for the season: a reaffirmation of the value of giving and sacrifice.

Wishing everyone merry and restful holidays, and sending cheers for all things achieved this year. And for those who faced losses and difficulties, may these days be warm, tender, and life-affirming.

<3,

Meg


Dear Meg,

I have been a community development worker for just over a year. Listening to, working, and standing alongside marginalized (and therefore silenced) communities have been edifying and humbling.

But how can I speak and inspire more people about hope when there are moments I doubt my own words because I feel enmeshed in many problems?

As the only child, I have served as the breadwinner for my aging parents. Their special needs are adding up over time. With the constant increase in basic goods and services, our debts are endless no matter how hard we try to manage our finances. And I only made unsuccessful attempts at finishing college that could have opened up better opportunities for myself and my family.

I don’t like to think that one could only thrive on the work if unimpeded by these. But such intertwined problems have divided my attention and energy. I feel anxious and frustrated; it seems I can’t find tangible solutions.

Thanks for taking the time to read our letters and offer encouraging words.

K


Dear K,

Thank you for sending a letter, and for sharing your burden. It sounds tough, what you’re trying to do while staying in this path. I wish it weren’t this hard.

On particularly rough days, I hope you never forget: none of this is your fault, and you’ve done and are doing your best. No one should be struggling to provide for their family, least of all someone serving the community. And no level of financial literacy can fix what’s fundamentally wrong with the economy.

Sadly, and as you probably already know, this also means that the problems you’re facing are unlikely to go away. Absent radical change, economic stability will remain elusive for most people our age. There will never be enough unless you deny yourself of some needs, and I have a strong feeling that this is already the case.

And so I’d like to remind: taking care of yourself is just as important. I hope that you’re eating and sleeping well and getting ample rest. That there’s plenty of vegetables on your plate, and no ashtray at your place. Incidentally, these are also great ways to avoid hefty hospital bills.

At the same time, it wasn’t lost on me that you weren’t really asking how to get out of your financial troubles. Or whether you’re making the right decision. Instead, you wished to reconcile what looks like a dissonance in your life, so that you can carry on.

I thought that was important to note and honor. That despite the hardships, this is what you wish to keep doing. Between the lines of your message is a commitment to this path, and somewhere out there, Jose Rizal and Andres Bonifacio must be beaming with pride.

I’d like to underscore this part, because in this economy and social climate, it’s easy to dismiss the idea of sacrifice. Of pursuing a life of service, when it comes at great personal cost. “It’s alright to choose yourself,” you’ve probably been told, because of the very challenges you mention.

Thankfully, you seem to understand well: in a society, that choice is an illusion. There is no “I” or “them” in our collective suffering. Our struggles, deeply interlinked, are best faced the same way: with arms linked—kapit-bisig.

You asked how to be able to speak about hope amid your situation, and I think that’s a good place to start: by understanding that our personal battles are never just our own. Your aging parents are also ours, as are your debts and difficulties in making ends meet, your frustrations and worries. I hope you never find it hard to talk about them, whether simply to get them off your chest, or to seek help. There’s no shame in trying to survive under today’s harsh social conditions. That’s what we’re all doing.

On that note, I wanted to ask: Have you opened up to your closest relatives, friends, and co-workers about your pains? I can imagine the physical, mental, and emotional toll of being a breadwinner. Do your parents know you bear this much weight on your shoulders?

By having these conversations, you’d be able to clarify: what exactly are your struggles? What steps must you take to address them? I always ask counselees facing a problem to break it down into the actual contradictions (e.g. “I need to pay bills at month’s end, but my salary is not enough), the solutions they require, the tasks that these involve, the resources at their disposal, and the people and groups who might be able to help.

In the throes of turmoil, a lot of us forget that the answers to our questions can come in many forms. There’s a wide range of support available, and each can be just as effective in lightening our load. In your case, friends can lend their willing ears, or company in doing chores or errands. They can refer you to additional sources of income. Or they can simply join you in your passions and hobbies, allowing you to relax for a bit.

Meanwhile, your colleagues who understand your situation can call you out when you’re working too much, or cover for you occasionally, when you need time for family. Finally, if you have a good relationship, your parents are in a great position to be your regular sounding board. They should know your heart more than anyone, and can remind you that you’re so much more than you can provide. When you need it most, they might be the best at giving comfort.

Key to the practice of collective care is a faith in everyone’s ability to provide care. Anyone can help—it’s a matter of giving them a chance. It also entails doing away with some toxic aspects of our culture, which defines strength in terms of being “tough,” or unaffected by one’s ordeals. Alternatively, strength can be understood as the willingness to face things with all that we are and all that we have, including our weaknesses and fears. Among men, this shift in view can mean normalizing being emotional, and being able to express that they cannot solve their problems alone.

Once you’ve embraced this approach to burden-bearing, you learn: nothing, not even the biggest obstacles, is insurmountable. There’s no better foundation of hope than that lesson, and if you believe it yourself, I have no doubt that the people will see it, too.

From here comes the opportunity to nurture that hope into a more potent force. Hope that does not only spark, but sustains revolutions, hope that is anchored in determination and clarity about what needs to be done. After all, the other side will do everything to keep their hold on power. They will wield all forms of violence, making the fight dangerous and brutal. It can only be won if enough people see what it calls for, and would be willing to pay the price.

In case it needs to be said, your life is already a wellspring of that kind of hope. And I wish you the strength, courage, and support to keep choosing it, even as the challenges remain. Most importantly, may you always feel that the hardship is worth it – always is, always have been.

To your honorable life choice, and to the victory of our struggle!

My very best wishes this holiday season,

Meg