by rossanahead | Jul 28, 2011 | career, children, Education, family, Gina Abuyuan, parenting, woman
By Regina Abuyuan
My friend R, who partnered with D and me on this new venture of ours, a pub in Cubao X, has an ingenious solution to the never-ending quest for work-life balance and spending time with his kids even when he’s at work: letting his kid work alongside him.
For two weeks now, his son R2 has worked Fridays and a couple of Sundays waiting and clearing tables at the pub. Unlike most teens, he’s not into video games and girls (thanks to his ultra-sensible, well-grounded parents). However, R thought he could use some boosting in the get-your-nose-out-of-your-book-and-relate-to-the-world department. Don’t get me wrong—R2 is no sullen, emo-type nerd. He’s always smiling; chatty when he wants to be. But parents like to push their children’s potential, so here we are.
The first night, R2 was learning the ropes, trying to gain his footing. And he did—fast! Now he automatically hands guests their menus, knows how to serve beer, and wipes down tables after.
“It’s about building confidence,” his father likes to explain to people, after joking about child labor, when they inquire about the bespectacled lad handing them their drinks. “How to relate to different kinds of people—people skills.”
The best feedback I’ve gotten from R about his boy waiting tables, though, is this: “Papa,” R2 told his father after one (his first!) particularly busy Sunday. “I will never get irritated at waiters again.”
And what about my kids, you may ask? Why haven’t I asked S to join in? I don’t think it’s for her. I’ve asked her to serve customers a few times, but I know she wouldn’t be the eager learner like R2 is. Instead, I let her watch and witness how hard D and I work at the kitchen and bar—and her reaction has been just as rewarding.
“Are you sure you’re OK?” She texted last pay day, a Friday, when she learned D was going to be late for service and R wasn’t around. I was basically running the whole show, with the crowd growing bigger by the minute. “Yes, I’ll be OK,” I answered.
“Uhm, well, at least you’re earning…and you like it…I hope Tito D comes soon so he can help you.”
I rediscovered what I taught myself and S when she was little and would sit beside me while I wrote: If you can’t bring your kids to work, or have them experience what you do, at least make them understand what you do, how much you enjoy it, and how much it means to you. That way (hopefully!) they won’t resent your work—or at least resent it less.
by rossanahead | Jul 26, 2011 | career, Karen Galarpe, woman
By Karen Galarpe
Over lunch a month ago, one of my officemates confessed to me that he had just tendered his resignation as section editor of our online publication. I was dumbfounded. I didn’t see that coming, so I asked, “But why?????”
He said he wants to rest and pursue higher studies, and look for a job more allied to his college degree in the sciences. Four years in media was fun but stressful, and he wants to do something else now. I nodded in reply. I know the feeling.
Rewind to 22 years ago. I was a certified public accountant who finally realized writing was what I really wanted to do. Life is short, I thought, why be miserable?
Yesterday, my mom and I went to her friend’s house to check out a cute female shih tzu puppy for sale. On our way out, my mom’s friend told me that her son, who has been breeding shih tzus and chihuahuas, is really a nurse who even passed the Board exams. “But he likes taking care of dogs. That’s his business,” she said.
I believe we have all been gifted by God with passion for something for a purpose. When I hear Lea Salonga sing, for instance, I see the passion burning in her heart, and I feel moved by her singing. Similarly, when I see Lisa Macuja Elizalde dancing ballet with such emotion, I feel moved as well, and awed by such a gift which could have only come from God. When I heard former UK Prime Minister Tony Blair and former US Vice President Al Gore give talks in Manila, I immediately saw their passion for good governance and environment protection, respectively, and I was encouraged.
“The greatest things in life are not things. Meaning is far more important than money,” wrote Rick Warren in The Purpose Driven Life.
What’s your passion? Pursue it and have a meaningful life.
by rossanahead | Jul 23, 2011 | career, Education, Mari-an Santos, woman
By Mari-An Santos
I was recently awarded a scholarship to study abroad. It sounds so simple now, but the road getting there was anything but.
After having taught at a university, my eyes were opened to the possibility of pursuing higher education abroad through a scholarship grant. On occasion, colleagues would nonchalantly mention how they took a short course at a university in the United States or participated in a conference in Europe. Being an avid traveler, I yearned to see those places, but I did not quite know how.
One by one, my closest friends received scholarship grants. One got a Ford Foundation scholarship to study in the United Kingdom, another a Fulbright to study in the US, another a government grant in Singapore, and the last a fellowship in The Netherlands. I was very happy for every one of them. They deserved it. But then, a tiny voice inside me always said: “What about me? Why can’t I get one of those?”
Of course, I didn’t know the first thing about getting a scholarship. I would read about scholarship grants on the Net, but there were too many requirements. It would take too much time and effort, I thought. And so I didn’t even try.
But as one colleague after another flew off to some faraway land to study, I was pushed into action. They encouraged me to try. And so I did.
I applied to one scholarship after another, but only got letters of regret. I got disheartened. Fortunately, my friends kept on pushing me, telling me to try again. And so I did, again and again and again.
In the middle of a busy day, when I least expected it, I got the most exciting news! That life-changing story, however, is for another blog post.
by rossanahead | Jul 21, 2011 | career, children, family, Gina Abuyuan, parenting, woman
By Regina Abuyuan
Readers of this blog who are connected with me through Facebook have probably been keeping tabs on the latest adventure of my wonky life. With D and another friend, R, I recently opened a pub in Cubao X. It’s called Fred’s (after D’s grandfather, a drinking stalwart who was also into cigars; coincidentally, R’s and my maternal grandfathers were also named Fred, and both carried their drink and smokes more than well). It’s been weeks of very late nights (er, early mornings) for me, which had me behind the bar serving drinks, wiping down tables, and cleaning ashtrays. I have great respect for waitresses and barmaids now. Their job is exhausting and murder on the feet and legs.
For more than a week straight, I packed my kids off to my mom’s (God bless grandmas!), and prayed they wouldn’t be any trouble.
They were.
Well, at least my twins were. My daughter behaved as she always does—responsible, quiet, obedient. My absence had taken its toll on the twins. My mom and her househelp tell me they frequently fight, watch too much TV, and fall asleep with the TV on. One day, when I had nicked enough time to drive by and check on them, they exasperatedly said, in unison: “Finally!”
When I got ready to leave again, Mateo handed me the piece of origami he had made (he likes making me these things; my bedside table is littered with them). “I made this for you, Mommy.”
My heart almost broke with guilt.
Their teachers have told me their behavior has changed in school, as well. Mateo’s on the verge of being a bully; Marco is his usual cool self—but probably more cool than expected, which is also reason for alarm.
I swore I would never allow myself to feel this way again, to let any situation let me feel this way again. But the universe likes to play jokes on us sometimes, and just as we think we’re free, an opportunity comes where we have to give up something to attain something. I feel especially guilty because the twins have gotten the brunt of these choices; the first was when I was putting up a new magazine when they were only three years old, and now, this.
Is it worth it, you may ask? I don’t know yet. But at least now, being part-owner of something I created, I also have the power to choose how much time I put in our venture, and how much control I’m willing to take—or give up.
I’ve not had a late night in the pub since Friday, and I attended the twins’ emergency preparedness workshop on Saturday (another advocacy I’m involved in). I’m trying to regain what I lost over the past weeks: Balance. It’s what all mothers strive for. It’s the law of the universe; the law of Mother Nature herself, who knows just how and when to tip the scales this way and that.
Wish me luck!
