the end of a long relationship

Dear Chair, Please put this in my file as well. I know my lack of communication and deep seated pattern is inexcusable. I apologize and own up to my inappropriate behavior. The reason why I struggle with writing my thesis is because I'm struggling with the emotional abuse that I endured this past year as a part of the very issue that I am writing about. On February 14, 2009, I was deauthorized from the organization that shaped my interest in writing about the experiences of 2nd generation Filipina American activists. After having built my identity to a social justice advocate and activist at that time, my emotional, physical, and intellectual investment in this organization was stripped away from me causing me to rethink my relationship to the movement and to my own partner. Paranoia, anxiety, fear came as a result of this experience silencing my voice. I no longer felt safe knowing that people were constantly reporting my every action, email, online post because i was a questionable suspect, potential trader. Please also include the fact that in May 2009, I hit an all time bottom low. After three days of crying, cringing in fetal position, screaming, and contemplating suicide I realized I was mourning the loss of my voice and drive to even continue pushing forward. During that time I realized and relived the abuse that I've experienced from the age of 16 to that day. I was shocked to realize that the one organization that was aimed to empower me and address patriarchal, imperialist abuses was abusing me. They equated my current relationship to a relationship with an abuser without even understanding that prior to meeting him I WAS just in an abusive relationship. This relationship and this organization were the two things that were sustaining my drive to continue moving forward in life. Yet, when they were pitted against each other I was torn. I did not know who I could trust and what activism, sisterhood,revolution, and love were really about. I understand you want me to move forward, but this is still something I am going through still, right now. This past weekend, I hit another all time low trying to confront my thesis topic and emotions and intellect attached to this situation. I am trying, trust me I am trying. The pain is too much to bear. Sometimes avoidance helps me gain sanity and the will to continue living. Maybe to you, it's not too serious but this is what my life was about for the past 8 years. Joining GabNet was a defining moment in my activist career. I was hoping to expand my work to the international field through this organization. I was looking forward to the educational discussions and conscious raising activities that would help shape my understanding of anti-imperialist transnational social justice feminist frameworks. Now at this moment, I feel like I'm starting anew and no longer have an acute understanding of this topic or myself, but I am slowly confronting myself and situation. I am slowly finding the will to continue writing this story and finding my voice again.

today's gonna be a good day.

trialzz, v saints.

i'm so tempted to switch over to tumblr for it's coolness. i've been a blogspot user since 2002 (malaya.blogspot.com)

not much to really say. life is good.

block party - jean grae

[Verse One]

Listen

I don't wanna preach or come off bitter, this is a commentary auditory

Editorial, about the state of things, state of mind and state of being

What the fuck is goin on?How the fuck we gonna make it out?

It's hectic, from asbestos filled classrooms

to the stench of death that's still in New York

The air is thick with it, but it reaches further

Like the world murder rate

Circulate, cultivate your mind and soul, your heart and your body

So stagnant; niggaz, get off your block and travel

Stop actin like your flesh is metal and your hood's a magnet

We need to globalize, further spread on this earth

to appreciate the full value of individual worth

To realize how ridiculous the thought of ownership is

and protectin your turf - that's bullshit man

That's how we got colonized

Missionaries create foreign schools and change the native way & thinkin

So in ten years, we can have a foreign Columbine

in some small village in the Amazon, c'mon man



[Chorus]

You need to get out your house, get off your block, and see somethin

Go do somethin, go CHANGE somethin, or else we fall for nothin

You need to, travel the world

And when you come back, tell your girl and your girl and your girl..

and your man and your man and your man.. you understand?

So spread the word



[Verse Two]

It's every man for himself

That's why the black community is lackin in wealth, there's no unity

We soon to be chillin with rich white folk

and that means that we made it

Let our kids go hungry before our wardrobe is outdated

Rap careers are drug related, ballplayers, we need more lawyers

More housin and job created, why we waitin for it to be given?

We need to get up, and get out, and make our own livin

Instead of just makin more, inner-city children

More doctors in your building, righteous cops next door

If the system's corrupt, then change it

Fought for the right to vote, don't even use it

Forget electoral winnin

The way the world's goin, we in the ninth inning

Heh, and we still aren't up to bat

Niggaz is happy just to have the rights to sit on the bench

Like floor seats is alright, and that's as far as we reach

Materialistic values, not morals, that's what we teach

I see it in the youth, hungry for fame and money

Not for knowledge and pursuit of the truth

Pick up a book or a newspaper

Take a free class in politics or human behavior

We need to stop actin victimized, it's like we're day-walkin blind

Open your eyes, there's a whole world out there



[Chorus]



[Verse Three]

And you don't have to agree, or just be happy

Content and lose your hunger, push further

Cause I don't believe that pipe dreams exist

The world is what you make it, your life is all that you got

So take it to the limit

Why would you deny your spirit growth and happiness?

And if your peoples hold you back, they not your peoples at all

You know the, misery cliche

Ladies, know your worth; the way we givin it up

We might as well auction ourselves on eBay, to the lowest bidder

So what if his dough is better?Money doesn't make the man

Maybe self-sufficiency would better make you understand

Let's get it together

There's so much promise and it's just goin to waste

We turn crude, lack of class, lack of taste

And trust, they laughin at us

It's slow genocide

And I don't care how many bottles of Cristal you pop

It won't un-expose you as a known pedophile

Native child, runnin wild, to the ends of the earth

I'll see y'all at the last hundred miles, bet



[Chorus] - repeat 2X

continuation

without actions, love is just a w<3rd.

lately i've been trying to reconcile my relationship to religion and spirituality. growing up in a converted devout catholic household as an only child at that time, i had the privilege and expectation to attend church every sunday, hold rosary beads every time the virgin mary came to our house, participate in charismatic prayer meetings, and to pray for my forgiveness every night. my sisters moved out before my parents discovered god. i was spoon fed religious rhetoric whenever something was wrong. i had god's eyes watching my every move leading me to live a life of fear. for those who do not fear god aren't holy or something like that.

anyway, i welcomed it into my heart. i was wearing white singing in the choir, carrying my rosary and wearing other religious decorations like bracelets made tight enough that they never come off unless you crush your hand. it made life, life. even if i didn't agree with the homilies and heard revisions of the bible, it resonated with me. it fed me. i had a hard time reconciling man's interpretation versus a universal god. it was the thought and belief of something greater than humans that connected everything that made it appealing. i was the point that this was becoming my own personal journey. i wasn't going to church because my parents told me to, i was practicing the way my parents wanted me to. it was becoming my own understanding and calling. then i hit a wall. i had a hard time reconciling my religious beliefs while embracing new found appreciation for buddhism, babaylans, animism, christian practices, and a move towards progressive praxis. i couldn't reconcile my beliefs with the preachings of man and the actions of humanity.

i needed to step away for a while. i put my beliefs into practice with community organizing. a building does not make a church. i have learned so much about love, compassion, community, and interconnectedness. this is more powerful than simply listening to a homily. i am fulfilled in this space, but now i am confronting my need for spiritual grounding once again. i'm learning how to mesh everything that i have learned, everything i am, and everything that is this universe.

at first it would come and go, i would ignore it and hide behind pragmatics. it is always there. this time, i want to be that open vessel, much more than before. my heart is open, my mind will be clear, my soul will be pure.

namaste, praise be the lord, allah.

sup.

so i'm chillin here in oli's garage trying to gain inspiration again as kim and oli play the new version of an old song. i'm slowly meeting my voice again. she's stronger and much more beautiful than ever. after the many times where i've felt her leave, she comes back much stronger that i could ever imagine.

last year, around this time, she lept out of my soul as i screamed my way down the 805 pacing after an ex-boyfriend. pained and lost, each scream carved a deeper cave into my soul where my babaylan once lived. like extracting a tooth, i was overcome with sorrow and shame that i was loosing my wisdom. my mind was clouded with abandonment, fear, jealousy, and insecurity - the perfect recipe for self-destruction.

it's been about a year since that last time, she came back in pieces, slowly but surely. i found the strength in a women's organization. i had found a home to harness my babaylan, my energy, and my voice. i was confident that this space was setting a foundation, and it did. slowly, it began to chip away at what i thought was my path revealing my yellow brick road.

irony definitely has its way of creating a new comedic sitcom. criticizing the organization's lack of love and praxis, i was deauthorized because the love i had for my partner. valentine's day was the day that they would kick me out of the organization. ha. anticipating the end, i asked to speed up this suspense and instead left the organization during a valentine's day social just-us dance. ironic isn't it?

good morning.

sun is shining, birds are chirping, and i'm here blogging. it's my third day in a row, a true sign of progress.

i hope you enjoy the music as much as i do. these songs always rejuvenate and empower me to get through the day.

a lot of changes have been happening lately, neither good nor bad, just change. it's interesting how these changes coincide with meteor showers and eclipses.

anyway, there isn't much thought processing going on right now. it's 9:13 a.m., and i'm hungry.

Counting prayers like blessings

There are times when i can't help but feel VERY thankful for everything that has happened in the past couple of years. Through an abusive struggle, I am definitely on a better road. I am to see things much clearer and am standing firmly on my values and beliefs. Yesterday, I witnessed the power of organizing that comes from genuine compassion and love for the people. Although we are not necessarily organizing these people, we are at least being a catalyst for creating spaces for self-exploration and empowerment. As we know, we must start with ourselves to be present with the people.

As the organizations around me begin to experience extreme challenges, I am still amazed by people's resiliency and commitment. Sometimes we need to fall to rise up even stronger, like a phoenix from ashes. I cannot help but see and feel the power of the white dove.