Reflections of a Lasallian Newcomer

The webinar we prepared for our partner community to help them set-up an online presence in Shopee happened on the last Saturday of January this year. Everything our group have been preparing for has finally reached its culminating point, and we were successful in pulling off a 2-hour seminar for LPPWDFI.  Our audience consisted of 40 people from different barangays that were members of the federation, and from different range of ages. It was truly humbling to have them talk and engage with us, as we tried our best to present our webinar in hopes that it may help them adapt into the changing world of technology, and serve as a solid source of livelihood that will allow lesser difficulties, as they can do it in the comforts of their own homes.

The pandemic has really changed the way of life, and it’s only been a year since then. 11 months at the time of this writing if I wish to be exact. However, the normal before already feels so far away, and for awhile, there was hope that this would get back to normal, and that everything that’s been happening is just temporary. Sadly, the virus is only evolving as the times goes, and it might be 3-5 years before anything ever returned to what was truly normal – and there is even a chance of this being the new normal. I realized only recently that I should not put anything on hold just because of the pandemic, and that I should finally stop seeing it as a temporary situation. This realization has given me more appreciation to our efforts in helping our partner community, by setting them up in a platform that will be able to adapt to the current climate of the pandemic. I have high hopes for them, and even if our e-Service Learning activity has already concluded, they will continue to be in my thoughts.

All in all, I am thankful to my school for giving me this opportunity of to help, and learn while doing it. It has tempered my person and have given me new perspectives to consider, and a wealth of lessons to take from as I move forward to the next step of my journey. It has opened my eyes to the things I still need to learn, to the truth that every day is an opportunity to acquire wisdom, and has steeled my resolve to continue with my yearly New Year’s resolution: to be kind. To myself, to others, even to people who have hurt me, or people I do not see eye to eye with. With my heart so full of gratitude, it is very unfortunate that even through all the months that we have worked towards this, not once was I able to meet my groupmates, my instructor or our partner community in person. I can only hope that my gratitude is felt nonetheless, even if conveyed through the less intimate methods of written text.

And thus it ends, but it has also opened a lot of beginnings that I look forward to cultivate. Inspired, I hope to able to engage with many more communities, and extend my help to those in need. The class has impressed upon me the importance of volunteering, something I haven’t really explored yet. So I turn to the future, and equipped with the experience from my Ethics and CSR class, I can only hope I to make the difference I desperately want to achieve.

Freedom of expression and especially of opinion is something that has always been of great personal importance to me growing up. In the Philippines, an archipelago of several thousand islands which even now reels from centuries of colonial rule, we find a people that are highly opinionated, well-meaning and yet perpetually plagued by insular lines of thought owing to its not so distant colonial past and the poverty that it has always struggled against. 

Freedom of expression and opinion in the Philippines today is something that resembles a privilege more than a right. In our country, as is perhaps the case in several other Asian nations, we do not take too kindly to opinions that depart from our own. Here, the Japanese adage “the nail that sticks out gets hammered down” comes to mind. Many Filipinos, in my experience, fall victim to some form of intellectual myopia that borders on a perverted sense of patriotism - what is different must be wrong, somehow. I find that we are often highly critical of views that offer alternatives to what we’ve long held as established fact by way of our culture and our traditions, never mind that these two things are but residues from out complex but purely accidental past. 

We claim to be a country where church is separate from state and yet somehow have managed to place a crucifix in every common hall at every public institution - but what about the Hindu (or Buddhist) Swastika or the Islamic Crescent and Star? Are these not equally valid, equally venerated faiths? Perhaps, you may ask, this is because the majority of the population is Christian? But to this we must steadfastly answer that we do not, in fact, have a state religion. 

Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) has been something of a buzzword these days and for very good reasons. The twenty-first century has quickly cemented its reputation as an age of great abundance - of unparalleled discoveries and startling innovations. Conversely, it is an age of great excess as well. 

With the advent of globalism and big data comes a much greater awareness for the need for corporate social responsibility. Simply put, corporations have evolved to such a degree and size that necessitates constant scrutiny from several angles.  Given their monolithic structures and large workforces that typically run into the thousands, it might be no exaggeration to say that, after sovereign states, it is the corporation that is the single most influential and impactful social entity by today’s standards. 

Decades ago, CSR was largely conducted on an organisational level at the behest of a company’s senior management. It was effectively a strategic initiative aimed at bolstering the firm’s reputation by earning the people’s good graces - quite simply, a company of sterling repute sells more.  Today however, it has quickly become clear that having a robust culture of CSR is no longer a strategic tool in the corporation’s arsenal but a social and environmental necessity. 

In the Philippines, one of the strongest drivers of CSR is the near-ubiquitous presence of multinational corporations scattered all over major urban hubs such as Metro Manila in Luzon and Cebu and Bacolod in the Visayas region. In fact, one of my earliest employers was in one such corporation and to my delight, I found that my new employer took corporate social responsibility very seriously, in the best possible way. Each quarter, management typically rolled out a long term initiative, such as a waste reduction or recycling program, while every few months, employees gathered to take part in short, high-impact activities such as tree planting or preparing meals for the needy. 

In the time I’ve spent in the workforce, my opinion on CSR in the Philippines is, surprisingly, one of optimism. Filipinos, it turns out, care a great deal about the environment and doing right by their fellowmen as long as they were given a channel to do so. We never lacked for volunteers to pick up trash along provincial riverbanks or donations in kind to send out to an orphanage and it became my personal agenda to invite friends (coworkers or not) to these activities - no strings attached of course. In the Philippines, there is much work left in store - for instance, I am deeply concerned about the unmitigated and unlawful deforestation happening in many parts of the country as well as the irreparable harm caused by mining activities to our land. 

While Ms. Pia was discussing the universal declaration of human rights, there was a sadness that dawned upon me as she mentioned each and one of them. While in my previous journal I focused on right to work, this time I want to focus on all of them, and the sad reality that my fellow Filipinos might not even know half or a fourth of them.

I came to this conclusion during the group session during the classes where we discussed with a random group what we thought about the universal declaration of human rights, and if we had any experiences where we felt our rights were violated.

While we are fortunate enough to not be serious victims of such (except perhaps for my previous work experiences were I had to do unpaid overtimes), we turned instead to the injustices in the Philippines, and how the pandemic has made the situation worse, and exposed the Filipino people to more abuse.

First, we have the extrajudicial killings (freedom to a fair and public trial) where evidences of it has been documented by third parties where the guns that have been claimed to be used by the apprehended drug users or pushers (nanlaban) were repeatedly present in different cases that are in no way related to each other. This was noted due to the same serial numbers (of the gun) that were documented for separate cases. Or where there are video and audio recordings of people clearly asking for mercy, and has already prostrated themselves before the police, and yet they were shot and killed, and claimed to attack back. The blatant disregard for human life, and the deprivation of a universal right to a fair and public trial remains to be heavy in my heart. It also hurt to hear the public opinion on these killings, already branding them as criminals when they are yet to be given a verdict, and are suspects at best.

This lead to one of my group members to say that he wasn’t really entirely familiar with all the thirty universal declaration of human rights, what more if he was a Filipino with poor educational background?

These words have briefly stunted my thoughts, recalled in horror the many times that I’ve heard someone complain, but then track back and say “at least…”

I work almost 13 hours everyday… but then again at least I have work, even if I clock in unpaid OT. Right to work, and to just and favourable conditions of work.

I can’t even touch my leaves because we’re so busy! But at least I have work especially in this pandemic. Right to rest and leisure which includes periodic holidays with pay.

And sadder exclamations such as:

At least they are now being acknowledged unlike before when they were shunned. Why won’t they be satisfied with a domestic partnership? Men and women of full age, without any limitation, have the right to marry.

It seemed like such a basic thing to know, and yet most people don’t, and they are repeatedly being taken advantage because of this. It is true what they say that knowing is half the battle, and I now I think to myself how could I help in this situation?

What I can mostly do is to never deprive anyone of their rights, regardless if I disagree with them, even when I am angry at them. But that only affects the people in my immediate vicinity. I am only one person, and this seem like such a big problem that concerns everyone in this country.

The Philippines, being a third-world nation, has had no shortage of socio-economic problems. In fact, it might even be said that the Filipino working experience is one characterised by deeply disparate conditions owing to the significant gap between the country’s social classes - a result perhaps of an nigh-endless cycle of institutionalised poverty that has seen but very negligible improvement in recent memory.

Of course, it is only too easy for one to be blind to these issues when one is in a position of privilege. In college, I had a sort of epiphany one day when I chanced upon a newspaper article regarding the ever-touchy subject of contractualization in the Philippines. Endo, as it is typically referred to, is one of the most blatant and predatory ways in which the wealthy, it seemed to me, profited from the poor, the working man - all in order to squeeze out every last drop and improve the company’s bottomline. 

I thought about this as a student and reflected that I, a soon to be college graduate - a privilege not available to all - was shielded from the worst of its impact. I studied accountancy and grew to appreciate it, in a way, despite initially having chosen the field for its versatility if nothing else. When I entered the workforce, I had a slew of prospective jobs waiting for me. They were not, strictly speaking, the best paying of jobs, it is true, but they would allow me to enter a highly competitive and coveted field and, best of all, they would come with a contract.

All of these privileges, basic as they are to the recent college graduate-turned-salaryman, were things that are for the most part unavailable to a vast portion of the country’s workforce - from servers working in fast-food giants, to clerks and staff members of any of the country’s countless number of malls - a very large number of people in short. The odds were never in the people’s favour, it seemed. The Philippines, in truth, already prohibits contractualization as is clear from countless DOLE department orders as well as many supreme court decisions however the corporations always seemed to be one step ahead and could always be expected to circumvent the very spirit, if not the letter, of the law via one loophole or another. 

Perhaps the answer does indeed lie in the new generations of Filipinos to come - myself included. I’d always suspected that what the Philippines desperately needed was a stronger culture of social responsibility and dutifulness to one’s fellowmen, a brand of patriotism if you will. Perhaps what the task demands of us who are privileged is merely to never lose sight of what could be and in doing so enforce change. After all, a changing of the guard is long overdue and millennials all across the nation are beginning to realise their strength. 

If there’s one thing I learned all throughout the ESL activity that we did for our CSR class, it would be that helping isn’t as easy as I thought it was. That is - if you really want to help. A monetary donation helps heaps, of course, if you have the funds for it - but going beyond is much much more difficult. While my group had the best intentions at heart, there were still many things that we failed to consider, and ultimately put us at a struggle and briefly dampened our spirits. 

We failed to see everything from their perspective. We were so eager to help that we didn’t even consider if they would understand our proposal, and the intentions behind it. To give context, our proposal was to set-up an online shop for our partner community, as they create and sell products as part of their many livelihood projects. As the world fully transitioned to online because of the pandemic, it was a great opportunity to expand their reach, and establish an online presence which could be a more sustainable alternative for them rather than keep a physical stall or rent space. Online selling would allow them to work in the comforts of their home, and they can avoid the hassle of public commute.

However, we didn’t anticipate the fact that everything might not make sense to them, or that they will be having difficulty on visualizing what we wanted them to see. This was evident after our group’s first meeting with our partner community to pitch our proposal. It wasn’t enough that we had their best interests at mind when we drafted the proposal, we should also be able to assist them in understand how this could be of help to them. This reminds me of the sad reality why vote buying still works towards many poor Filipino families, but I digress. 

Another challenge we stumbled upon was the lack of response from our partner community. Our leader, Pat, had already reached out multiple times to Ms. Anafe, and even sought out the help of Niku, one of our coordinators, to no avail. Deadlines were stretched and we found ourselves working through the holiday just to meet the requirements, and while there was ultimately nothing we could do, this was also something that we should have been prepared for. 

The activity definitely taught me a lot, and gave me a perspective to appreciate. While we were ultimately able to iron out the creases that we’ve encountered during this journey, the struggles we’ve had have hammered and bettered us. I’ll definitely be more prepared the next time around, and I’m glad I’ve been given an opportunity to help as it has given me the basic do’s and don’ts of volunteer work, a reference most useful in the future.

For now, I’ll continue to do my best as we prepare for the webinar and final meeting with our partner community. 

In the book, it was pointed out that the ethical judgement of a person does not equate to his or her ethical behavior. To reinforce this, the author uses a case about Wells Fargo where the company opened millions of unauthorized credit cards in the name of its present customers. Looking at it, the act is easily identifiable as fraudulent however, the fraud was able to escalate to a point that at least 5,000 employees have participated in it, and Wells Fargo was able to sell up to 3.5M USD financial products to its customers without their consent. 

Analysis by investigators were able to uncover the horrifying reason why this has gone undetected for several years: that the management was aware about it, and encouraged the fraudulent activities. There was even evidence that senior executives knew about the practice even before it became public. 

It’s unbelievable to think that a company so big is capable of uniformed fraud and yet this only reinforces the importance of a concept we previously tackled - corporate culture. 

As defined in the book, corporate culture is the shared pattern of beliefs, expectations and meanings that influence and guide the think and behavior of the members of an organization. It was through Well Fargo’s culture of incentivizing greedy practices and setting higher than average targets to its employees that the fraud was able to fester and grow, with employees thinking that it was okay to continue cross selling as long as they got to keep their job and the company profited from it. 

Thankfully, I’ve never been with a company yet that encourages horrible practices just to meet targets. While the audit field is very exhaustive, I still felt that my company cared for my well-being, especially when my then manager implemented a rule where we weren’t allowed to do overtime, and was forced to go home on the clock two out of five days of the week. This then evolved to a company-wide effort to reduce overtime hours by setting the cut-off for overtimes at 12 midnight. While this initially disgruntled a lot of coworkers, insisting that the problem was with their workload, and that they did not choose to clock in a lot of hours by choice, I focused on the the message that my previous company was saying: that work was not something important enough for their employees to lose sleep over. 

Ever since that first taste of corporate culture from a company that truly cared about its employees, corporate culture is now always the first thing I look for in a company. Currently, I’m with a company that exhibits positive corporate culture, in my opinion, with flying colors. The first day I’ve joined, I was personally escorted by my manager, and was introduced to everyone in the floor. Everyone had big smiles, and I’ve observed that the interactions between coworkers were light and almost playful. 

My manager then (he has since resigned) conducted weekly meetings just to check on us and make sure we weren’t overworked, or if we had any difficulties adjusting to the work from home set-up. I actually fully realised that this was really the company culture and not just one work of an individual when a few days ago, a manager for a business unit I was supporting (translate: not my immediate manager) randomly called me just to check up on me and make sure I was happy with my current responsibilities.

These experiences emphasise the importance of a leader, and just how much they influence the corporate culture in a company. It’s not enough that policies are written or memos are in place, as is the case with Wells Fargo, but that the leaders also show with their own words and actions the values they want to instill in each employee.

And realising that I never truly grasped the enormity of it. 

I’ve finished reading Chapter 1 and 2 of our prescribed book - An Introduction to Business Ethics by Joseph DesJardins - and I’m astounded how all-encompassing ethics truly is. The concepts of virtue ethics, utilitarianism, principle-based ethics and Kantian ethics were introduced, as well as the difference challenges to the need of ethics in the business place.

I’ve also realised that, in my previous reflection where I worried over the rightness of what befell James Damore’s for his memo, I’ve fallen under a trap of ethical relativism - that there is a wide disagreement about values, with the conclusion that no agreement is possible. As I’ve read more, the the colors black and white blurs more and more, and I’m back at the grey area - but now with the realisation that I can’t - shouldn’t - stay here. That while other opinions may be valid, there are opinions that are more valid, and they aren’t all on an equal footing.

This is a concept I’m finding difficulty in grasping and I want to share why. I was in grade five when I started to question religion -it started with one question: ‘if there were so many religions, and everyone believed them to be true, then which religion is correct?” Then lead to another - “how do I know mine is?” From then on, I’ve strived to be as open minded as possible - and as accommodating as I can be to different perspectives. It was a journey of deconstructing all the biases I’ve been raised with, and trying to be as respectful as possible to everyone’s opinions in the hope that mine would be given the same courtesy. 

As such, I’ve always stayed in a limbo whenever I encounter difficult issues of clashing morals. I tend to stay in the middle, knowing both sides, understanding what drives each, but making no stance. I used to think it was enough to understand, and be as open as possible to the many point of views available. Of course there are things that cannot be tolerated - such as murder, rape and abuse. However, for more difficult cases such as the BLM movement and everything attached to it, like the ransacking of shops and houses and the ACAB (All Cops Are Bastards) ideology, there is reluctance in me to choose a side as that is not absolutely good. 

Reading chapters 1 and 2 of the book has opened a new world of possibility. And it has enlightened me in a way that scares me. That ultimately, what is right or what is wrong isn’t something that’s black and white, or something that’s set in stone. It’s us - people - who give definitions to this two ideas. There will be times when we can’t have the right answers, but we will have to make do, and, as leaders, provide the best one.

This is why I need to learn more about ethics - the different principles that can guide me to decide which is, at the end of the day, the best decision to move forward with any issue I encounter. It isn’t enough to have the law and it isn’t enough to know what is absolutely wrong and what is absolutely correct. There will be scenarios that will challenge my morality and my principles, and it’s especially important to be equipped with the right understanding to come up with the best decision that will benefit the people I lead.

In July 2017, a Google software engineer by the name of James Damore released an internal memo entitled “Google’s Ideological Echo Chamber”. The events that followed after is probably one of Google defining moments - and I feel very conflicted.

Ms. Pia assigned each group a case study to work on, and present during one the synchronous sessions of the class. Our group was given Google’s Echo Chamber Manifesto - a case study that mentions one software engineer named James Damore, who posted in an internal forum about his sentiments regarding Google’s Idealogical Echo Chamber. 

In the memo, he mentions that the diversity efforts of Google may actually be harmful because some projects, mentoring or classes offered were only available to members of certain race or gender. He suggests that in Google’s efforts in diversifying its manpower, the company is sacrificing its standard and exercising bias against the group of people that are not targeted by its diversity directive. He also expounds on the possible reasons why there is a gender gap in the company’s workforce, framing observations such as ‘women are better at relationships, and men are better at “things” as facts. 

I read the 10-page memo and I confess, it made me angry. Especially when he insinuated that the reason women weren’t in high positions was because they were stress-averse, and therefore do not apply for higher posts which tend to be very stressful jobs. As a very ambitious woman, this could not be farther from the truth. It was outrageous, and when I read that he was fired for it, there was a small bleep of satisfaction that coursed through me, as if it validated my own thoughts. 

Evelyn Beatrice Hall once said, “I do not agree with what you have to say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”

And she’s right, while Damore’s sentiments were deplorable, he had every right to say it. Google firing Damore completed the circle, and his memo became a self-fulfilling prophecy wherein he was condemned because he thought differently than the majority. Fellow employees, and even the public, called for his termination because of the memo. He was bullied on his last days with Google, and efforts to antagonize him were even rewarded by the company. 

I keep asking myself - is this right? I know that while he has the freedom to express his opinion, he is not free from the consequences of his words. However, the magnitude of the flak he received was great, and costed him his livelihood. If I were Google, would have I fired him as well? 

On one hand, I feel that Google should prioritise reinstating a safe work environment for its employees where no one is discriminated or subjected to harmful stereotypes. However, terminating Damore has also sent a message - that there is the possibility of losing your job if you share, in any shape or form, views that are different from the company’s. 

What would be the ethical thing to do in this scenario? The case is both fascinating and frustrating, and I know that in order to be an effective leader, I also need to have a stance on issues like these, no matter how blurry the lines between right or wrong are. As a leader, I will be encountering scenarios not unlike this one as I grow into positions with more influence.

So I ask myself:

How could I, as Google, resolve the issues that Damore’s memo has created  that will still uphold the culture of diversity and inclusivity within the company and continue to preserve a safe work environment for all employees, but not impede anyone’s rights to express their opinion?

It was harder to help during the pandemic. This is what I suddenly realised as I sat down behind the comfort of my laptop, looking at my screen - my group mates - with an unsure smile as we tried to wrack our brains with ideas on how to reach out to the less fortunate, and which community exactly we wanted to help. Pat and JP listed out the different organizations they’ve worked with before (Pat was involved in CSR in her company, JP was a professor) but they didn’t have efforts that we can assist with virtually apart from the usual monetary donation. As we sat there, brainstorming, my mind kept going back to the partner community we met in class last Thursday, LPPWDFI, short for Las Piñas Persons with Disability. 

We met Anafe, their president, who have shared with a us a lengthy background about their organization, its members, their projects and current struggles. I haven’t had much encounter with persons with disability, and if I think about it, she might be the first disabled person I have the pleasure of meeting. It dawned on me how little I know about their struggles, and it was a bit horrifying to know how ignorant I am to their plights. She talked about opportunities that could have been but, in her own words, “flopped” and how they needed a livelihood that would allow them to work from home, and this struck a chord in me. 

I work from home, but only because of the pandemic. Outside of it, I had fully functioning legs that I use to go to and from the office, and my sight, while I do need glasses to be able to see properly, still served me well that I can navigate on my own. If I, with my appendages and senses fully functioning, experience the terrible traffic of commute and find it totally abhorrent, how much more for them when most places or modes of transportation aren’t catered to their disability?

How can I help them? What could I possibly offer that could ease their struggles? I realise now that this has always been my excuse to not lift a finger - that I have nothing to offer anyone else. I have little money to my name, a short work experience, and a wisdom that still needs cultivating. 

But when will I be able to help, if not now? When will I keep telling myself the same excuses? 

I remember my new friend, St. La Salle, who when he had nothing, continued to help the children and his brothers. Helping big in the future is a comforting thought, but I can help with the small things now. The pandemic has crippled a lot of families, and my fellowmen needs help now more than ever and I really, really shouldn’t make excuses, no matter how valid I think they are.

My first Ethics class was nothing short of eye-opening. It started as normal as any class could, with our instructor - Ms. Pia - introducing herself, and promised a group activity later on in the class where we would introduce ourselves to our peers. We marched on to the lecture where I learned about the twelve virtues of a Lasallian leader for the first time. 

While the concept of a Lasallian leader was new to me, most of the virtues, by themselves, aren’t. Some of them - silence, reserve and patience - are values I’ve been trying to cultivate for a long time. But there were new concepts too, like prudence, which spoke the most to me. I’ve always aspired to be a leader that can balance firmness and compassion when making decisions. So much so that this even made way to my personal statement when I applied for graduate school. The reason behind , as a child, I always, always strictly played by the rules. For a long time, things were black and white for me and I was often called idealistic. I only had firmness, confident in knowing that my decisions were backed by whatever rules or law applicable to the scenarios. There was also the fact that I didn’t want to play into the stereotype that all women are soft and are largely driven by their emotions. 

See, I grew up painfully aware of the sexism rampant in our society. As a girl, I was expected to only like certain things like the color pink, singing and dancing. Whenever I was interested to play basketball or learn martial arts, my dad would always say we don’t have money to fund these hobbies - but the moment I said I wanted to play the piano, I was given an instructor that would come in twice a week to teach me to play. I was often called dramatic for being passionate about issues I care about, and for a time, I took pleasure in doing the opposite. I preened when people told me I was like not other girls. I didn’t realise back then how dangerous that was.

Years have passed and I’ve been under the care of several wonderful managers, men and women alike, who exhibited prudence. This experience has taught me how important compassion is and how vital it is to have “soft” leaders because if it weren’t for them, I would have burnt out all those years ago, when I was overwhelmed with the load of my work and slept a measly 3 hours each day on average. I was also going through a break-up from a 6-year relationship that ended with my then boyfriend cheating on me. I tried my best to separate my personal and work life - but it was difficult on the first few weeks to be okay. On the outside everything was normal, I was performing my responsibilities without fail but inside exhaustion and bitterness were dangerously brewing inside me. My mindset was that regardless if I wasn’t in my best form, work will still need to be done and that - work that I am being paid for. Besides, if I was able to provide the results they wanted, I might be considered for promotion by the end of the year. But my manager back then saw my struggle and looked past the high billable hours I was clocking in. She talked to me one on one where I finally broke down, cried, and asked for help. Life would have been a lot different if not for that one moment of compassion. 

The compassion I’ve been given is now one of the biggest reasons why I enjoy my work today, and why I strive to be a leader that can show the same to my employees. 

“My own? I wonder who they are.”

I’ve recently watched the movie, “Who Are My Own?”, starred by Mel Ferrer and Marc Michel, detailing the life of man name named John Baptist de La Salle. It was about his personal journey of following God, and finding his place in a world where his ideals where foreign and unthinkable, especially so that he was born from an upper class family - and that, ironically, the life he promotes is the exact opposite - a life spent in poverty and service to others. In the movie, his life was a long journey devoted to the well-being and education of children, and here we can see that even a well-meaning mission can easily be tainted by humanity’s selfishness and insecurities. Like when the priests felt threatened by his way of teaching, as it eradicated their source of income via the work of the children, and so they encouraged the townspeople to attack the classroom where he teaches, and laid waste to everything he has founded in Paris. It was a film full on injustice, of persecution that simmered a silent rage in me, and yet it was also a film about devotion - to a higher being even in the brink of starvation, about kindness - to children who are the most vulnerable members of any community, and about commitment - to a service that can make the world a brighter place. It was his life.

I ask myself, “Who are my own?” What a loaded question. Especially so that I, myself, am intimately familiar with the perpetual struggle to belong, to be part of group. It never did came naturally to me like how it did to others. As a child, I often found myself alone, or pretending to be someone I’m not just to avoid eating alone in the canteen. The experience, until now, I remember as very uncomfortable. I often find myself asking, ‘Why can’t I find people who are like me? Why can’t I be myself?’ It was a personal journey I hold close to my heart until this day, as it has shaped me, and is a dominant part of who I am today. Knowing St. La Salle, in all his glory and saintliness, also went through the same brings me a strange kind of comfort.