24 February 2013
No week in 2013 has passed without me crying. I always felt
for people and I do not run out of reasons to cry.
As I run through every spot in a thick blood smear under the
low power objective, I kept thinking that I had to do what I was doing well. A
person’s life depended on what I was doing – we (June and I) were giving
diagnosis for lymphatic filariasis. Then our statistician’s father experienced
ventricular defibrillation. If not for a balloon stent procedure, he would’ve
died. And our diagnostic parasitology expert is in very bad shape – she probably
would not recover fully for employment.
Other than all those, I saw continuously how other people
had to accept blame for other people’s actions (Paul for our immediate
supervisor’s idea about adding arrows. How my immediate supervisor assumed I
wrote the articles on the bulletin he had many corrections on when actually our
male research associate penned all the articles where he found a lot of errors.)
and how people’s efforts are unappreciated or disregarded (Paul worked much on
clock and shirt designs but they all reverted to zero status; all input the
team put in it eclipsed by the team leader’s decision.). Power play was also
evident with how other people misinterpreted what others meant and how they
would not accept other people’s explanations simply because the other is of a
lower status. (I meant by my presentation that the diagnostic parasitology
expert position would be vacant so the IEC material I was assigned to do
couldn’t push through without having that position filled in. And I also tried
to present GAHI mapping in such a way that they would have it clear for them
how the data we contribute would be presented in the GAHI site. The team leader
refused to listen. I was operating on half of my wits; I was not hearing what
he was saying that I went on showing at once the output contrary to what I planned.
I should’ve stood up for myself. Next time I would make sure I get my point
across.)
How the team’s system works, how though it is set with an
intention of optimizing outputs, it is a setback that frustrates people from
having open communication and exercising team efficiency. I do want to break
the cycle. Boldness come hither, I call unto you. I am asserting my human
birthright of power, love and self-control. My power to not become affected by
my conjured thoughts of other people about me and to accept censure without
taking it to heart, my not being easily frustrated or fully dejected and
dissuaded, is not complete. I lack boldness. At times I let it lie low. I do
not channel it when I have to make my point clear, I do not fight for myself
even when I know I have a point. Reticence is helpful but it is not what all
situations call for. I can handle rejection but I am not willing to risk yet.
Acknowledging my passivity should push me to become assertive and get me into
the gambling game of human dynamics.
There was also this experience of seeing how people, through
being in an esteemed position for long (actually growing old with that title)
could become so self-important in his own mind, as if only his thoughts
mattered; that he knew everything already. What a mistake. He will remain
stagnant and would eventually decay if he would no longer be open to other
people’s ideas.
I saw where I stood. I remain in the learner’s category, I
allowed myself to be wrong and to make mistakes. But I was too much into it. I
have to be a learner who will be able to risk failure just to learn; not a
learner who does not aim to win as she learns. I should be forgiving of myself
when I do something wrong but that doesn’t justify my allowing myself to be
wrong always; I should aim to do things right the first time. I can be wrong
every time but I should venture out being wrong if that would eventually lead
me into being right. So I should speak out what’s on my mind regardless of who
I am talking to; my thoughts are important too. I also shouldn’t settle with
being wrong. If I got it wrong now, I should get it right along the way and be
gracious to accept if I am again proven wrong.
I have enlisted myself under a hierarchy of supervision (2
seniors then 3 research associates then the immediate supervisor, also a
research associate, endorses the output for the team leader’s scrutiny) which
doesn’t work that way in reality. My female senior approved before a version of
the poster. After getting the other senior’s approval for it, the immediate
supervisor was already signing it for endorsement but the female senior saw it
and wanted some changes. Another instance was when the male research associate
said he’s okay with the bulletin so I could have it checked by the immediate
supervisor. The immediate supervisor signed it for endorsement then the male
research associate said he would now edit the write-up. Isn’t this system
confusing? Just when will I have any output delivered out of my hands. I also cannot
understand yet how to deal with each one in the team. Aside from those, my
mother is the main beneficiary of my prayer petitions. She is recently
beleaguered by debt and Shiela’s alarming conditions. Her attacks occur almost
without breaks, going on even if she’s already too exhausted with it she’s
already asleep (Seizures in sleep for an eight year old!). Really, I could file
a complaint on heaven’s desk on cruelty for what they’re letting us go through.
But I can’t. I’m grateful. I am grateful my Shiela’s alive
to suffer intensely without having to understand that she does. I am grateful
that my mom has begged on every person she knows to lend her money and is
having her heart broken by it. I am grateful that Sam’s having it hard with her
school requirements that she causes mom to worry when she goes home late. I am grateful that I am having difficulty
with how I would address and attend to each person in the office, the immediate
group, and I am not earning enough to contribute pay to halt being in arrears. This is the truth. What else can I do with
it? Can I peddle it on the streets and expect Maalaala Mo Kaya to get wind of my story and eventually pay for its
copyright? (Then I would have a solution
for a part of our money issues.) I don’t know anymore how else I am going to
react to all of this other than to be grateful. I have no choice. I do not know
what else to do. The present may be very bleak. But it doesn’t end here yet.
Why am I so sure? Because of the one I sleep with every
night, the reason why I can’t sleep and the same cause of my being soundly
asleep – my dream. It keeps me awake at night; I could hardly sleep because I
would not consciously think of them then. I also get to sleep deep because I
know that each morning that comes after would provide me with an opportunity to
make it real. I do not doubt still that it will all become real.
I am also sure that my dreams would materialize because I am
not abandoned; I still taste and see that the Lord is good. I will not neglect
how I have been very well provided for. I am living the way others dream of – I
live in a condominium unit. I live in a condominium unit I do not own but pay
for a minimal fee out of the owners’ kindness. I still get to eat three meals a
day. In fact I have gone to places and had experiences I otherwise wouldn’t
have access to if not for work. I went to UNILAB Bayanihan Annex building in
Mandaluyong for a forum and was in room K with schistosomiasis experts. I also
went to Century Park Sheraton Hotel where I was in the grand ballroom with
scientists in the country. I saw in person people of rank; I never surmised the
seatmate I was chatting to be a guest speaker until she was before the podium,
delivering her speech. I had a taste of meals for rich people, meals I would
not get to eat (or would dare to spend for) on ordinary days.
I still have people near me who affirm me and we still have
chances to be together. DJ and I were in the Metropolitan Museum of Manila
yesterday. There each art work presented me with freedom - challenging me to
interpret and appreciate them as I wish. Each exhibit piece was not right or
wrong or beautiful or ugly as long as it was there. (It made me long to be seen
that way, as someone to be respected simply for existing - as someone who was
not beautiful or ugly, healthy or sick, intelligent or dumb, good or bad. I wish people saw through each person that
way.) I was to react to them, they were to illicit from me thoughts that I
usually don’t get to think. And my thoughts on them would not be wrong or right
but would simply be thoughts on them. They do not get their value from my
thoughts just as they do not get their value from how they look, how they take
up space in people’s consciousness, what they were made of or who made them.
Though the pieces were immobile, they were free. They presented a layer of the
dimension that is detached from convention. My favorite piece was Venus, a plaster of Paris statue by
Guillermo Tolentino. And I am most disappointed that Hidalgo’s The Boat of Acheron is not in our
territory. I was fawning at a copy of it at the Met. (I even told DJ that by
virtue of jus sanguinis, since
Hidalgo’s a Filipino, we have a right to demand the painting back.)
We also ate at Bon Chon (My first Bon Chon chicken after I
first heard of that brand during my MT boards September last year). I wasn’t
hindered in any way when I was with DJ so that must be where the fun I had
stemmed from. That girl knows a lot. I hope I didn’t bore her. I wish she had
fun as well.
So here I am again, instead of sulking, proclaiming that all
I have now came to me out of grace, not something I have worked for or deserved
to get. I received them by mercy or just because it was a natural mandate; a
spontaneous event that had nothing to do with me except that I receive it. Thank
you for everything Sovereign Lord. Everything – be they favorable or not. Thank
you as well for the choice of enjoying and learning from everything. Thanks for
choosing me as an object of your abiding faithful love.
It is God who arms me
with strength and makes my way perfect.
Psalm 18: 32
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