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Dear Mr. President

Dear Mr. President

President Barack Obama at the California Science Center during Barbara Boxer’s fundraiser.

#DreamComeTrue #BarbaraBoxer #CaliforniaScienceCenter #HealthcareReform #Compassion #Diversity
#DreamComeTrue #BarbaraBoxer #CaliforniaScienceCenter #HealthcareReform #Compassion #Diversity

( Photo courtesy of Randy Palisoc )

“We are fortunate in our society that a means of resistance has been built into the law and the political process-the vote. The vote is the most powerful nonviolent tool we have in a democracy. We must use our votes, our power, and our organizational abilities to create a movement for good. We must not give up this power. We must not give in. We must not give out. We must use what we have – all our talents, resources, energy, and creativity. We must do all we can to help build a better nation and a better world. “ Congressman John Lewis

Today, as I shook your hand, Mr. President, I caught your genuine broad smile, from the second row of the California Science Center’s Annenberg Building, I caught a glimpse of your soul in your eyes. Eyes that tell us you see us, eyes that tell us we matter, and eyes that tell us that you work hard on our behalf. Eyes that tell us you are determined to secure a future not just for me, as I enter the autumn years of my life, but for my young children, one in graduate school and another working fulltime, both can now breathe easier because of the medical health reform bill that you signed in March 2010. The first day of spring became the first day of change for my family and with health care reform no longer the burdensome struggle that we must carry from our generation to the next.

My Self Like Others. Today, as I shook your hand, I boldy said “ Dream Come True, Mr. President! “ You smiled, looked at me, and moved to shake the hands of the next person. We wanted our very own precious moments with you. They may seem but, glimpses of our president, but priceless as to the journey of how each got here.

Another boldly wanted to show her motorcycle permit, yes, her permit issued by DMV, to show that she too broke out of her shell to go “ Broom, Broom, Broom…” with her hands firmly on the steering handles, as if a metaphor for taking her own future into her own hands in voting a President who she believes in. “ I want the President to know I like how he is making us more respectable in the world again, by having us come back to our compassionate spirit as Americans!” I thought I was alone in that reflection. Oops, I was wrong.

Another described how she just left the hospital, two days still wobbly on her foot, but determined to show her support for you. She asked if I could hold her space in line, while she sat down and rested on the bench. She used to be part of the Clinton Administration, but now no longer with that privilege, she too joined us in line, waiting patiently.

To Randy Palisoc, founder of Synergy Charter Academies, he said: “I couldn’t pass up this opportunity to see President Obama in person. You could feel the electricity in the air, and I felt like I was a part of history.”

Actually Christine Oshima, a friend of mine, endured her pain, postponed her knee surgery and travelled in crutches, from LAX to DC, as she wanted to see you in person inaugurated. She got to Washington, D.C., walked two miles and found instead, her own inner resolve to overcome challenges. She is now mobile and active, thanks to her determination to see you.

Another described the strength of living with diversity in Los Angeles. She is a retired teacher. She said that in Los Angeles, we find ourselves locked in space with someone different from us, that living here means not about enduring differences, but how to merge with that difference. She used the metaphor of freeways to clarify. She went on to say that in driving the freeways, even if crowded in Los Angeles, we take turns, we make room for others, and we know how to merge.

Her concept of diversity is different from mine, which is inclusivity all at once, as we witness exclusion every step of our journey, every day it seems. Hence for me, it is equal distribution, but for her, as she is a white woman, it is about taking turns, it is about giving way to others, it is sharing the space, just like in Aloha Hawaii. I realized then and there that we all have our own truths, and we need to merge our own truths with others, if our country is to move forward: The truth as you see it, Mr. President, the truth as others see it, and the truth we can all call as ours.

My Journey. For me, it took 3 years to reach this moment. 2 years of working for your campaign took me out of my comfort zone. Yes, out of my comfort zone to reach out to strangers and neighbors in my community and blog about our collective thoughts. It also gave me an inner will to relate to all folks, regardless of backgrounds, even to call independents and conservatives in Nevada or Florida, and have a dialogue on why I am voting for you, Mr. President. At one point, I was considered a heretic in my community because I am voting for you.

When I got more confident as I stood up for why a vote for you, I took it a bit further by going on television and debated a GOP. I may not have convinced him to cross party lines, but at the end of the television segment, he made a promise that he will seek me out and do joint projects because he enjoyed debating the merits and demerits of his beliefs and mine.

What I learned is to confront my truth with theirs ( the GOPs ) and from a personal ability to hold contrasting views, I can move forward to function. I learned from the example you showed us tonight how to handle the heckler, even if limited to few loud voices, where the interruption a mere two minutes, yet the electronic media of Los Angeles captured it as conflict, captured it as increasing dissent to Obama’s policies.

There was no conflict, as you and Sen. Boxer support the repeal of “ Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” If only Channels 4, 5, 11 and 9 took the time to immerse themselves in the lines, they would have heard the stories of journeys, which took folks to love and respect their president, this, they would have heard how you did it with grace.

She’s passionate about fighting for jobs, jobs with good wages, jobs with good benefits. She’s passionate about fighting for California’s families. She is —

AUDIENCE MEMBER: Repeal “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell!”

THE PRESIDENT: We are going to do that. Hey,hold on a second, hold on a second. We are going to do that.

AUDIENCE: Yes, we can! Yes, we can! Yes, we can! Yes, we can!

THE PRESIDENT: Here we go. All right — guys, guys, all right. I agree, I agree, I agree. (Applause.) Now —

AUDIENCE MEMBER: (Inaudible.)

THE PRESIDENT: No, no, no, no, listen. What the young man was talking about was we need to — we need to repeal “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” which I agree with and which we have begun to do. (Applause.) But let me say this: When you’ve got an ally like Barbara Boxer and you’ve got an ally like me who are standing for the same thing, then you don’t know exactly why you’ve got to holler, because we already hear you, all right? (Applause.) I mean, it would have made more sense to holler that at the people who oppose it. (Applause.)

When you’ve got Barbara Boxer, who is passionate to give people all across this state a fair shake, to put the American Dream within reach for all Americans, then what we should be worried about is how are we going to make sure Barbara Boxer gets elected. (Applause.)

And that’s mostly what I want to talk about tonight. I am proud of the work we’ve done to bring the world together around a host of problems, from terrorism to the nuclear threat; from climate change to deprivation and poverty around the globe. I was gratified to sign a new START treaty with Russia — (applause) — and to host so many world leaders in Washington last week, working in concert to reduce the perilous risk that nuclear materials could fall into the wrong hands.

But reviving our own economy remains the central challenge that we’re facing today. I don’t have to tell you that. This state has been hit as hard as any state in the union with economic troubles these past few years. Jobs have been lost at a heartbreaking level all across this state, and they’ve devastated families and devastated communities.

The housing crisis hit this state with a particular vengeance, driving your friends, your neighbors out of their homes, injecting a sense of fear and financial insecurity into too many people’s lives.

AUDIENCE MEMBER: It’s time for equality for all Americans!

THE PRESIDENT: I’m sorry, do you want to come up here? (Applause.) You know, the — all right, because can I just say, once again, Barbara and I are supportive of repealing “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” so I don’t know why you’re hollering.

Now, the problems that we have here put a further strain on folks in this state, forcing painful choices about where to spend and where to save. And the challenges folks have been facing here —

AUDIENCE MEMBER: (Inaudible.)

AUDIENCE: Yes, we can! Yes, we can! Yes, we can! Yes, we can!

THE PRESIDENT: Barbara — I just — everybody, I just wanted to confirm — I just wanted to confirm — I just checked with Barbara, so if anybody else is thinking about starting a chant, Barbara didn’t even vote for “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” in the first place, so you know she’s going to be in favor of repealing “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” (Applause.)

Now, that is a key issue, but I think putting Californians back to work is also a key issue — (applause) — because there are folks, gay and straight, who are out of work right now. (Applause.) And the challenges that are being faced right here in California are facing Americans all across the country.

While in lines, folks displayed proudly what they were wearing, symbols of how hard they worked for you: Woman for Obama pin, Labor for Obama pin, Obama ’08 jersey, Obama 44 t-shirt, First Family 2008 pin, Obama/Biden placard, all to show why they refer to you as “ I love my president! “ One took notice and said, “ He is our President, you know “. She disagreed and said, “ No, I feel he is my president, as this is the first time in a long 8 years of drought under GWB that I can now claim again that the White House resident is my president. So he is my president! “. Her disaffection from government has been replaced with genuine love and affection.

How God held me in His Hands. Last year, a dream of meeting Miss Oprah Winfrey came true for me, courtesy of friends in the community. Reflecting on my luck of seeing Miss Oprah, after dreaming of this for 20 years, I figured that it will take less time to meet my President in person.

So, it came to pass. I wrote down my 2010 dreams, one of which is to meet Mr. President Obama in person. Hence, in the first week of April, when I was invited to buy a seat in Senator Barbara Boxer’s fundraiser, I did not hesitate. I grabbed the opportunity. Of course, unable to pay the high end price, I opted for the low end organizer’s price.

What I did not expect were unsolicited acts of kindness: a free cup of coffee from a neighborhood miracle bakery, La Maison Du Pain, to get me going for the day. I call it miracle, for most of the successful community projects are birthed at this bakery, including the successful Obama meetings we held in the sidewalks in front of this site, where folks drove all the way from San Diego, San Gabriel Valley, attracted to the promise of positive synergy, including the greening of an elementary school to host a neighborhood garden of produce.

I went to the “ America I am/African American Imprint “ Exhibit at the California Science Center, which traced the journey of African Americans for the last 500 years, hours before meeting you, Mr. President. I was so overcome with emotions when I entered the “ Doors of No Return “. To see the imprint of 1800s on the wooden doors, which kept, folks in bondage got me crying. I literally could not walk inside the tunnel. An African-American docent accompanied me. He inspired him when he reminded me of W.E. B. Du Bois’ words of wisdom “ There is in this world no such force as the force of a person determined to rise. The human soul cannot be permanently claimed. “

It is that spirit which he told me – that spirit which allowed his ancestors to survive, 12 million out of 16 million slaves, scattered across Americas, never to return home. He reminded me that the spirit of 292 slaves allowed them to endure a confined space in the slave boat, divided in three sections, the left reserved for women, the center for children, and the right corner, men shackled to one another, bound with metal around their necks and ankles and wrists. He reminded me that their spirits allowed them to survive the tight space by assuming the position called “ spooning “, lying on one’s side, their muscles in atrophy, while laying in their own feces and urine. In all, he reminded me, 52,444 slave voyages occurred from 1500s until it ended in 1887.

I could not imagine the inhumanity that your forefathers must have undergone, Mr. President. But, in the same breath, he reminded me that his ancestors had extraordinary fortitude, intestinal gut, fierce courage to say, “ I can, I will, I can do this, I will survive and I am capable. “ Then, we talked about his job, how he became a docent. He told me of being corrected by a hypercritical teacher/mother that to this day, he continues to misspell the same word she corrected him persistently. He said that criticisms, unfounded that is, toxifies the spirit, corrodes it like any.

Mr. President, doesn’t this make you recall how the GOPs are trying their darndest to toxify your spirit? How they hyperscrutinize you as if you are being lynched so as to diminish your inner determination and make you buckle in your knees to withdraw from banking reforms? Hmm….it truly made me recall of what you go through each day when unjustified criticisms come your way.

I asked him how long will the exhibit last. He said he would lose his job by May 2 and he did not know what the future held for him, as the job statistics were daunting. Now, it was my turn to inspire him. I told him “Remember the beginning of the exhibit and how Cornel West and Tavis Smiley were in conversations about what your ancestors endured?”

I told him that his ancestors’ after-life compel him to have a life of magnificence, and nothing short to dignify what they endured during those voyages: “ shackled and trapped in the bowels of a slave, unable to go home again, the captives would now have no choice but to live in the struggle, a fierce, many-sided, never-ending fight to survive, to live of necessity in a new way. “ (Marcus Rediker). Recall how President Barack Obama’s indescribable genius is now personified into profound intelligence in how he tackles all prior problems that remained unresolved? I continued-imagine the health care reform that used to be a generational struggle no longer is our burden, but now a generational duty and a right to pass on to our children? Imagine if in the White House today we did not have a President Barack Obama? Would not our future be so bleak?”

He picked up his steps, and at the end of his presentation on the slave boat, he gave us the exhibit-goers, his own inspiring words. “ I want you not just to remember the horrors of our ancestral past, I saw you overcome with grief while he pointed to me, but I also want you to remember the grit and fortitude it took to withstand the slavery to where we are today, it took unbelievable self-confidence, unbelievable self-worth and unbelievable self-regard. Their after-lives must manifest in your life, if only to honor what they went through to overcome their indignities and journey to freedom in reclaiming their dignities!”

Yes, we became each other’ s keeper of optimism, survival joy that at times, became temporarily derailed by the enormous problems we all face, 14% unemployment in California, 30% in South Central Los Angeles.

But, the best part, the guard at the exhibit gave me her unopened bottled water so that I could get in line, just like others. “ Go, go, they are on their way now “, she said, three hours before the scheduled check-in. And the night before, Mr. President, a blind GOP lawyer friend of mine, awaiting for his federal appointment, called me out of the blue and gave me tips on being myself as I meet my president. He too had his own journey. He met GWB and told him “I would work for you in May 2004.” Months later, he did. And now, he awaits his turn to serve you, Mr. President. I believe my blind lawyer/friend is a true patriot, as he puts the NATION’s Interests first before himself, NATION’s interests before party loyalty and from him, absolute optimism is what I learned.

He told me that I already attracted the opportunity to meet you, so it must be in my stars to meet you in person. I was as sure as he was that I would meet you, when I got his unsolicited call. “ Yes, Ollie, it is Ask and it Shall be Given! “ He got excited, “ Tita, you read Esther Hicks’s book? “ Yes, Ollie, I do! “

Mr. President, Ask and It shall be given! The next day, another rare opportunity came up. I was invited to be part of the White House Press Pool to say goodbye to you on Air Force One. I could not sleep at the prospect of meeting you again, Mr. President. I had a few days to turn in a letter from my editor, to validate my press credentials, and it had to be done on Saturday.Luckily for me, my publisher responded and the letter was faxed on time. I got my media permit for Asian Journal and I was listed as part of the White House Press Pool. I was in line along with satellite trucks of Channels 2, 4, 5, 7 and 11 as early as 445am. Soon, there were 20 of us in line, waiting for security check-in and to be LAPD-escorted within 40 feet of Air Force One. I had a direct view of the open door to Air Force One. An added bonus, to take a photo of Air Force One, with the sun rising in the background. It was a great symbol for me, an Easter, a Resurrection of New Values of Care, a New Vision of caring for Others, a renewed Social Contract to care for the next seven generations to come.

Mr. President, these two experiences of seeing you in person have now imprinted me permanently, indelibly etched in my memory to last. Just as I wanted to see you with my own two eyes, I was even more blessed to see you in action with your compassionate heart.

Once I had a dream, and I went after it aggressively to elect a good man to the White House, a man of superior leadership skills, a man of compassionate heart and good spirit. But God had a better Dream for all of us, a vision of hope for our time and a UNITED States of AMERICA, based on a new compassionate spirit, inclusive of others.

Mr. President, thank you for this lifetime of an experience! We see you, and like you, I became truly an American in spirit, in boldness of optimism, in struggle to overcome difficulties and in becoming more wholesome, as you keep showing by your example, as you are our Good Sheperd, leading us in a way to rebuild our economy based not just on social capital, but on social trust, transcending our racialized and segregated past.

May God shower you with His Invisible Grace, that you make VISIBLE through your actions in the White House!

Finding Peace!

“Peace is not the product of terror or fear. Peace is not the silence of cemeteries. Peace is not the silent result of violent repression. Peace is the generous, tranquil contribution of all to the good of all. Peace is dynamism. Peace is generosity. It is right and it is duty.” Bishop Oscar Romero

My father, Eleazar Abarquez died on April 24, 2000.

But it was only three years later after his death, when I found out that he lost three family members (his parents and a brother) during WW II.

My fraternal grandparents, who were both Filipino soldiers, were lured into the woods to look for their missing son. Apparently, it was a trap and they were killed by the Japanese Imperial Army. The pastor of Vigan Church refused to bury them, fearing retaliation. It was my father’s vigorous advocacy and perseverance which enabled him to provide his parents a decent and dignified Christian burial.

Orphaned at a young age, my father moved to Manila. Instead of despairing over the loss of his parents, he nurtured hope and resorted to education as his way out of poverty.

He would walk, barefoot for miles, to get to school and back. Sometimes he had food, other times he had to endure hunger. He persisted, until his law degree was interrupted by an early marriage, when he met the love of his life, Asuncion. Theirs became a bond of love, which defied all sorts of financial odds, and they both managed to build a home for five girls: Rose, Prosy, Sion, Rachel and Nimfa. He became a labor inspector, tasked with enforcing the labor codes of the Philippines. My mother was a science and math teacher in a public school. But, their dreams were larger than what their careers offered, so my mother took the initiative to immigrate first with my eldest sister, Rose to Los Angeles, and then, the rest of the us joined them.

My father was tasked with selling our wares –the car, the house and lot. Months before martial law was imposed, he got a promotion to become the Southern Regional Administrator, appointed by then Director of Labor Blas Ople. He was faced with his own dilemma, to pursue his career and be away from his family or to be reunited with them and start anew.

Peace is generosity

Choosing new beginnings, he got a job as a counselor at the Veterans Counseling Center in Los Angeles. He counseled Vietnam veterans and as he did his work, he found healing from his loss. After retiring from his job as a counselor, he became a primary caregiver to his grandchildren born in America — Jennifer, Brian, Michael, Paul, Jason, and Jessica. He would pick them up from school, cook their dinners and supervise their homework. Even with persistent arthritis, he endured physical pain to care for them. Because of his efforts, Jessica wrote a tribute poem for him about his daily heroic deeds.

From my father, I learned a code of conduct — contributing for the good of all and serving others before myself. At Christmas, my father would give generously to Catholic nuns who came to our house in the Philippines, to sing Christmas carols. Even if it meant giving away his last cent, he provided for them and also for the medical needs of relatives. At times, I heard my mom complain about their limited government salaries in the Philippines, and that he should limit the giving away our resources. But, my dad believed that God provides, and he remained generous to every sampaguita vendor or beggar that we would come across when our car was stalled in Manila traffic.

It was from my father, Eleazar that I learned acceptance of what life hands to you. Instead of negativity, he taught me to transcend challenges by being generous. My reward is that precious blessing of peace in one’s heart. Year after year, I watched him give away what little he had. And it seemed that he never ran out of blessings to share. The biggest beneficiaries, of course, were his children. He would provide for me at all times and ’til now, long after he’s gone, he still continues to do so.

Peace is not the product of terror or fear

I met someone who was a dead ringer for my dad. I thought for a brief moment that my father was alive when I was introduced to Senator Daniel Inouye at a UCLA event.

Allow me to share briefly, the bravery of Senator Dan Inouye. He was the first successful senator to have accomplished for our Filipino WW II veterans, a provision in H.R. 1, the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009 (Public Law 111-5), signed by President Barack Obama, which provides 18,000 living Filipino WW II veterans, a one-time payment of $15,000 to American citizens of Filipino descent and $9,000 to Filipino veterans of WW II who are non-citizens — a total of $198 million.

I was listening to an audio recording at the Smithsonian’s exhibit called Price of Freedom in Washington, DC where Senator Dan Inouye’s bravery. It was likewise reported by Robert Asahina in “Just Americans: The Story of the 100th Battalion/442nd Regimental Combat Team in World War II.“

“And later he found out he had been shot in the stomach, but he kept climbing up the hill. A machine gun nest was firing at him. He threw a grenade, knocked out that machine gun nest, another machine gun nest opened up on him. A German soldier stood up with a grenade launcher, launched a grenade straight at Inouye.

Inouye was carrying a live grenade in his right hand when the German grenade hit him, nearly severing his right arm. [Inouye] grabbed the live grenade out of his right hand with his left hand, threw it into the machine gun nest, blew up that machine gun nest, fell to the ground, crawled up the ground, then got hit a third time by another rifleman before he was knocked out.

For four days and nights they fought their way through these very dense mountains,” says Asahina, who has visited the site. “The canopy is so dense that when you are in there in the middle of the day, it’s dark. And they were fighting there in the dark, climbing hills with the Germans firing down on them. It was one of the most heroic battles of the French campaign.”

Peace is the generous, tranquil contribution for the good of all

Recall the internment of over 120,000 Japanese Americans, 65% of whom were American citizens, that was made possible by Executive Order 4066, signed by President Franklin Roosevelt, after WW II was declared? While in camp, they lived in barracks, that were 20 x 120 ft, divided into 4-6 tiny apartments, with sheet rock walls, sometimes covered, sometimes not, with tar paper on the roof. These wood shacks had gaps on the walls and on the floors, allowing heat and blistering cold to come in. They had common bathrooms that they had to walk to, traversing the mud with their wooden sandals. In some parts of the West Coast, they were housed in barns where horses were kept.

Yet, these interned Japanese -Americans taught their families acceptance and a code of behavior, called shushin, giving their lives in camp a sense of dignity.

They recognized that shushin, which is about perseverance, hard work and respect for authority, can now be their code of behavior to pass on. Instead of bitterness, they passed on giria strong sense of duty or obligation to others; on, a profound obligation to family, especially parents, a generational duty to do good to others, to look after generations to come. From this collective decision, they served others before themselves.

Instead of anger, the value of gaman, which means to endure adversity and to persevere, was taught by example. At times, it felt like they were passive, but while in camps, they taught their children watercolor paintings. The art of woodmaking was passed on. Even games of baseball were played. Dances and songs were taught. They centered on arts, spirituality and cultural values in the camps.

Later, these cultural values of gaman and giri empowered the succeeding generations of Japanese – Americans — it is their way of remembering the sacrifices of their ancestors, and pursuing their fair share and seats at the decision-making table — not for themselves, but for the next generations. Hence, it marked the birth of the Japanese American National Museum that is mostly funded by federal funds, army financial resources, and private donations.

At the Japanese American Museum in Little Tokyo, I saw desert sand of various colors that are encased in acrylic boxes, with artifacts such as boots, sandals, books, accessories of clothing, etc. With one’ s imagination, one might relive what the Issei (the first generation Japanese – Americans) experienced — harsh conditions that moved Pres. George H.W. Bush to say, “ No nation can fully understand itself or find its place in the world if it does not look with clear eyes all the glories and the disgraces of its past. We in the United States acknowledge such an injustice in our history. The internment of the Americans of Japanese ancestry was a grave injustice, and it will never be repeated.”

Yet, with all these injustices the Japanese-Americans faced in internment camps, they were the most decorated batallion that fought in World War II. Daniel Inouye became one of the most decorated WW II hero, now a US Senator. The 442nd combat unit garnered over 18,000 individual decorations for bravery, 9,500 Purple Hearts for casualties, and seven Presidential Distinguished Unit citations.

The community has, since that period of internment, worked for decades to achieve redress and reparation, just like how the Filipino Veterans struggled for equity. It was a movement made up of cumulative depths and levels of contributions, including solidarity campaigns from many sectors. It led to the Civil Liberties Act of 1988, authored by Senator Inouye, authorizing redress payments to “surviving internees, and which created a public education fund to ensure that similar violations of civil liberties will not be repeated against any other group based on race, religion or national origin.”

As for the interned Japanese – Americans, David Mas Matsumoto wrote “ We live with ghosts or spirits all around us, they are a sense of history that bonds all of us. Culture is alive and evolving. The facts are not as important as the process of change and acceptance…..For we too are simply ordinary people with a universe passing by us and through us.”

I was fortunate to have met all these men, my father who raised me and taught me the value of generosity; Senator Daniel Inouye who taught me the value of bravery and courage and David Mas Matsumoto who taught me the value of culture and community. In them, I am grateful most–grateful for being life examples which speak loudly of peace!

Dear Mr. President

In the presence of greatness: First Person

FIRST PERSON

In the presence of greatness

Dear President Obama,

Today, as I shook your hand, as I caught your genuine broad smile, from the second row of the California Science Center’s Annenberg Building, I caught a glimpse of your soul in your eyes. Eyes that tell us you see us, eyes that tell us we matter, and eyes that tell us that you work hard on our behalf.

Today, as I shook your hand, I boldly said “ Dream come true, Mr. President! “ You smiled, looked at me, and moved to shake the hands of others. We all wanted our very own precious moment with you.

The first day of spring became the first day of change for my family and with health care reform no longer the burdensome struggle that we must carry from our generation to the next.

It took three long years for me to reach this moment. Two years of working for your campaign took me out of my comfort zone. Yes, out of my comfort zone to reach out to strangers and neighbors in my community and blog about our collective thoughts. It also gave me the inner will that I can relate to all folks, regardless of backgrounds, even to call independents and conservatives in Nevada or Florida and have a dialogue on why I am voting for Barack Obama.

When I got more confident as I did that, I took my skill a bit further in going on television in debating another GOP to vote for you. I may not have convinced him to cross party lines, but at the end of the television segment, he made a promise that he will seek me out and we will do joint projects in the future because he enjoyed being respected as we debated the merits and demerits of his beliefs and mine.

What I learned is to confront my truth with theirs, and from the ability to hold contrasting views, move forward to function. I learned from the example you showed us tonight how to handle the heckler.

Last year, a dream of meeting Miss Oprah Winfrey came true for me, courtesy of friends in the community. With that fortune of seeing her after 20 years of dreaming to meet her in person, this time, I figured, having a chance to meet my President in person should be sooner.

So, it came to pass. I wrote my dreams for the year 2010. One of which included meeting you, Mr. President. In the first week of April, I was invited to buy a seat in Senator Barbara Boxer’s fundraiser. I grabbed the opportunity.

Your indescribable genius is now personified into profound intelligence. Imagine the health care reform — which used to be a generational struggle — is no longer our burden, but a generational duty and a right that we can pass on to our children.

Yes, we became each other’ s keeper of optimism, survival joy that at times, became temporarily derailed by the enormous problems we all face, 14% unemployment in California, 30% in South Central Los Angeles.

Mr. President, ask and It shall be given! Another rare opportunity came up. I was invited to be part of the White House Press Pool to say goodbye to my President on Air Force One. I could not sleep at the prospect of meeting you again, Mr. President.

Luckily, I was listed as part of the White House Press Pool. I was in line along with satellite trucks of Channels 2, 4, 5, 7 and 11. Soon, there were 20 of us in line, as early as 445am, waiting for security check-in and to be LAPD-escorted within 40 feet of Air Force One. I had a direct view of the open door to Air Force One. An added bonus, to take a photo of Air Force One, with the sun rising in the background. It was a great symbol for me, an Easter, a Resurrection of New Values of Care, a New Vision of caring for Others, a renewed Social Contract to care for the next seven generations to come.

Mr. President, these two experiences of seeing you in person have now imprinted me permanently, indelibly etched in my memory to last. Just as I wanted to see you with my own two eyes, I was even more blessed to see you in action with your compassionate heart.

Once I had a dream, and I went after it aggressively to elect a good man to the White House, a man of superior leadership skills, a man of compassionate heart and good spirit.

But God had a better Dream for all of us, a vision of hope for our time and a UNITED States of AMERICA, based on a new compassionate spirit, inclusive of others.

Mr. President, thank you for this lifetime of an experience! We see you. Like you, I became truly an American in spirit, in boldness of optimism, in struggle to overcome difficulties and in becoming more wholesome, as you keep showing by your example, as you become our Good Shepherd in leading us a way to rebuild our economy based not just on social capital, but on social trust, transcending our divided past.

Like one teacher/organizer said, Mr. President, we are learning to take turns, we are learning how to merge! May God shower you with His Invisible Grace, that you make VISIBLE through your actions in the White House!

Dear Mr. President

Kindness on the People’s Coast

Two beach walkers by the wading pond in Harris Beach. Taken at sunset. July 2010.

“ Right action demands that we find a deeper and truer source of energy and guidance than relevance, power and spectacle can provide.” – Parker J. PalmerSometime in the 1930s to the 1950s, the visionary thinking of two Sams, have provided for the public enjoyment of 363 miles of breathtaking coastline along Highway 101 in Oregon. It starts from the border of California on the north and ends in the border of Washington on the south. It is a rugged coastline of spectacular views, attracting bikers and motorcycle riders and vacationers all the way from Vancouver, British Columbia making their way down to San Francisco and for the more adventurous, all the way south to the Mexican border. We were coming from Los Angeles to Seattle, the other way around. In admiring the rugged coastline, we thought of the right actions of two Sams, who envisioned and planned for the People’s Coast.Sam Boardman negotiated for lands to be bought, as Oregon State Parks’ first superintendent and the markers in Sam Boardman State Park credits him as Oregon’s Father of State Parks. The second Sam, Sam Dicken, was a professor of geography in University of Oregon who persuaded the state officials to create the Oregon Coastal trail from border to border. He was worried that the rugged Oregon coastline might be lost to public access. He is credited as the father of the Oregon Coast Trail.No cars make it directly to the beaches, instead, cars are parked in paved areas and the beaches are accessed by foot. Harris Beach was accessed minutes by foot, while another, Lone Secret Beach took more. Harris Beach attracts more visitors and is more interesting because of its coves, the wading pond, including waveboarders (they use the receding waves of the ocean and the compact sand to ride their boards).We first met an Oregonian transplant, formerly from Chicago, in Harris Beach. Lisa works in a dental office. After work, she takes photos of the Oregon coastline and now has a collection of 1,000 images. She offered us the front of her car to lean on, with an Indian wool rug thrown on top, while we waited for the sunset. It felt cozy! With our map, she highlighted spectacular photography viewpoints: Natural Bridges Cove, Cape Sebastian, Cape Foulweather and more. These were all gratuitous by the way, unsolicited! With Lisa’s help, we got to our first spot.We came upon the Natural Bridges Cove, a natural bridge that connects the two coves. The water looked calm and the serene. In the afternoon, the sight is breathtaking, and even more enchanting in the morning. Here, we met another Oregonian, Bill, who lives near Harris Beach. He loves Oregon and would not consider living elsewhere. “ There is so much beauty here that I am willing to put up with some cold. It is not too bad, it gets 50 to 70F, but for my wife, it gets too cold for her. “We planned to walk the entire coastal trail to reach the Natural Bridges Cove’s beach area. It would be at least two downhill and another treacherous climb uphill — only to find a fallen tree morphed into a log!


It became both a crisis and a reward point for us. Do we climb over or crawl under? We watched a thin, young man climb over the log adeptly. What choice should we make? If we do not proceed, we succumb to our fears of height, and stay caged inside this familiar fearful zone with no action. The trail was but 24 inches wide, enough for us to stay safe, but the other side of it is the cliff.


We decided to face our fears, kneel down, step a bit on the roots of a fern, not much to keep us from going down into the cliff. With our legs shaking, we practically crawled our way to the other side.


We met a teenager who coached us, as we crawled under the fallen log, and when we were done, he offered to take us to the lookout point. No need, but thank you very much for helping us! We wanted to do it by ourselves.


We went back to the trail the next morning. This time, equipped with feeling and a memory of a challenge conquered, we bent such that our body could fit the space under the fallen log without crawling and soiling our clothes. Perhaps when fears are let go, bodies become pliant and flexible. Once we got to the other side, we smiled, a big one that came from within. We walked most of the trail with no one watching us to make a spectacle of ourselves.


We walked uphill and downhill, more assured and on our own! We felt an inner joy to rid ourselves of baggage: no longer fearing the heights, no longer afraid of the cliff, and now, with a sense of ease that we trust ourselves to take on the challenges that life gives us. Our next challenge: to walk down to reach the natural bridges and do the ‘treacherous climb uphill’ to get back, and our third visit to the Natural Bridges Cove would be a charm!

But, in these two visits, we saw the fruits of right actions of the Oregon’s state government: of providing their coastline for generations to enjoy, supported by the right actions of Oregonians to put people first on their people’s coast! We feel blessed by these random acts of kindness from Oregonians, for they represent the best of America we love! For us, we scored one on life!


Dear Mr. President

Wildflowers at the Top

The blooming wildflowers at a nearby garden, miles from this canyon. I loved the color combinations.

Pink flowers in bloom in an adjoining garden on the way to the canyon.

The walk uphill towards the peak of the canyon.

“People suffer because they are caught in their views. As soon as we release those views, we are free and we don’t suffer anymore.” Thich Nhat Hanh

I was not willing to move my body with ease before. Instead, I told myself “ I can’t breathe “, “ it is too dangerous “, “ it is raining “, “ it is cold “. Until I released myself from these imprisoning thoughts, thoughts that limited me in my movements, I could not enjoy the company of my family members who are more fit than I am. So, I decided to rid myself of these thoughts, one at a time.

“ I can’t breathe “ became a true reality for me when asthma, flu and allergies converge all at the same time and under humid conditions in the Visayas, I was without any recourse. I decided to say to myself, “ yes, you will breathe “, “ yes, you will live “ and “ yes, you will have a better quality of life “. Not even the oxygen tank that I was hooked up to, nor the IV tube I was connected, nor the nebulizer of antibiotics could help me. All external reliefs did not help.

So, I envisioned how life would be if I could breathe. It became truly a metaphor for me to let God in, to live life as it comes. To allow only what is right, to allow what feels right. It also meant I had to articulate what would irritate me in a more diplomatic manner. For example

“ You are so beautiful, but right now, your behavior is less than beautiful, it does not match the beauty I see outside. “ It allowed me to be a much gentler guide without the corrosive effects of a critic. “ And, with that, my relationships with folks improved. I actually had to turn down social events not because I did not want to go, but I had more writing assignments to finish.

“ It is too dangerous “ was a cover for not experiencing life fully. My husband and I went up the canyon one Saturday. It was not raining when we started the walk uphill. Just gray clouds forming. Then, it started to drizzle. Usually, I would tell him that it is time to go. Instead, I relaxed into the rains and cherished every drop. I remembered what Fr. Rodel’s homily was “ Embrace Our Galilees and Jerusalems “. I got to the top of the canyon and I caught up with my husband. He guided me that just beyond, a bit more uphill, is a beautiful view, and that we could go down the stairs. It was shorter, he said.

Normally, I would resist. But, the voice of “ embracing our galilees “ got louder. It was raining but not enough to block the view at the top. It was so beautiful, to be surrounded by yellow wildflowers on the west, the mountains in the north, the downtown skyscrapers in the east, and a view of the ridge behind me. It was so beautiful that I felt God was surrounding us in all His majesty. Then, it was time to go downhill.

“ It is too cold “ is a usual refrain, until I met Jason who told me that “ there is no such thing as cold weather. It is simply about wearing the right clothing. “ It was in a trip back east that I learned what to wear and how to deal with the cold. My nephew, Justin is a track field athlete, he runs in the cold, he runs in the rains, he runs in the hot, he runs regardless. So I asked him what keeps him comfortable in the cold. And the magic word came out “ Under Armour “ , a technical clothing made of special fabric combinations: 82% cationic polyester and 18% elastane. Regardless of how cold it is, it keeps you warm and comfortable. Thanks to Jason and Justine, I solved “ being cold “ while outdoors. It does not matter if it is rainy cold or not, I am out there walking.

As I went downhill, a steep downhill where one has to watch each step, a focus like no other, a coordination that has to be conscious and my dear husband held my hand all the way down. He coached me to take side steps, walking down first and guiding me on how to navigate the steep terrain. Midway downhill, a thin Caucasian woman with long hair offered me unsolicited advice “ Do not go downhill. It is steep. I cannot handle it myself, I just walk uphill.” For emphasis, she added, “ It is dangerous. “ My husband waited for me to act. Respectfully, he did not say much, he did not say ignore, or hogwash. He simply was quiet. I decided to simply proceed. I decided to not even consider the negative thoughts, for she merely verbalized what I am struggling to remove from within.

This is when I remembered what Oprah said one time on television: “ Be careful when you decide to move away from something negative. The Universe will test you to see if you are serious. “ I was serious. So, I ignored what the well-meaning woman offered to me. While she cared for my safety, she did not know that I was undergoing a process of ending my inner struggle with myself. “ Embrace my Galilees! “, as Fr. Rodel said in a homily.

When we got down, it was a dual victory for me: trusting my husband to be my exercise coach and allowing the weather to be enjoyed, as God’s gift, to be enjoyed no matter what. No falls, no bruises.

And a bonus win, it got us to be playmates! All because I decided no more negative thoughts, embrace my Galilees as they come. I am sure I can overcome each time, whether as a win or not, but I know for sure that I know now how to enjoy the process of living or simply living!

Today is my 13th day of exercising, another 82 days to make it a habit. I keep at it. In the process, I am learning to release my views, those that cause me to suffer, those that keep me disconnected from all things beautiful, and the ultimate one, God Almighty! I learned to trust more! It became easier for me, feeling like Someone Up There is always looking after me! My sacrifice this Lent, you guessed it – it is giving up my negative thoughts so I can serve God and humanity better!

Our 31st Wedding Anniversary

Si Prosy at Ike ay umaapaw ang kaligayahan nila sa napakainit at napakalalim na pagtingin at pagmamahal ng kapamilya, kapuso at kaibigan na nagbigay ng kanilang katangian, kaalamanan, kagalingan sa pagluluto ng labing apat na kurso ng hapunan, a unique bayanihang 31st wedding anniversary.

Ay naku po, let me describe it in my blog later, but just to let you know we were showered with grace, with folks’ unconditional, priceless love: a seasoned chef ( Clinton Nuyda ) prepared 11 courses of tasting menu, a seasoned French bakery ( La Maison du Pain ) provided 3 desserts ( lavender-infused creme brulee, macaron and passionfruit mousse cake ) one guitarist ( Ric Ickard ) one jazzipino vocalist ( Charmaine Clamor and her manager/husband, Michael Konik ) two violinisits ( Nonoy Alsaybar and his student, Enrique ) two pianists ( Dra. Charito Sison and Ric Ickard ) at ang galing na mga photographers ( Hydee Abrahan, Akima Abrahan, Carla Vargas, CJ Delacruz, Carlyn Calloway ) videographer…