A Call To Move the Nation

Shoot To Move the Nation: A tough mandate. 500 photographers rise up to call to capture moving stills of the Dignity of Filipino Workers with all intensity and integrity. On the 6th of February, down to 100 top photographs, over dinner and palpable creative adrenaline, I listened to the animated discussion that revolved around the art as a vehicle to fuel patriotic revival. OPF Chairman, Atty. Jesulito Manalo believes in the great potential of this nation. He believes that the universality of appreciating art and culture is a strong uniting force. “Culture now becomes the means to bring across the message of getting our act together in a powerful contagion that crosses borders and differing standpoints,” He muses.

The battlecry: Liyab Piliipinas: Reigniting passion for the nation, and for this specific project, using art and culture as a platform for advocacy. The contest ran from November 2008 to January 2009. Originally the contest would have ended on December 2008, but due to an incessant flooding of the site’s feedback form, the people at The OPF agreed to a deadline extension.

For a pilot project, many were shocked by the overwhelming response. Executive Director Rinka Romero, when asked how she felt as the entries literally flooded in says, “I was humbled. The results were overwhelming. It made me see that I underestimated the audience, that they were more willing to be involved than I gave them credit for.”

The response was felt even among the staff, and I was told that it came to the point, they were apologetic to Rinka as they came in to herald the delivery of even more entries: (Ma’am, sorry po, may regalo ako sa inyo. Hulaan niyo kung ano).




The top 100 photos waited, laid out on a number of tables around the dinner table and judges Quark Henares, Quincy Castillo, Justice Adolf Azcuna, Steve Tirona and Kidlat Tahimik (who sent in his scores earlier during the day)started to go around the lined up prints to rate each by the criteria: Relevance to theme, Image impact and Creativity.

One of the judges, Steve Tirona, renowned photographer of Manny Pacquiao’s latest victory says of what he would consider a good photograph, "The picture is able to make an impact when it tells a story without words.”



Former Philippine Camera Club President and 3-time winner of the prestigious award: Master Photographer Quincy Castillo says that the shift from traditional film to digital has cost the craft quite a bit. He says, “The main difference between users of the two can be seen in one’s discipline. Developing one film slide used to cost 200 pesos. It takes a photographer to practice discipline of planning his shot before-hand to arrive at a good picture. This is what needs to be retained while enjoying the benefits of convenience that the digital medium of photography brings to the craft.”


I looked around the room and saw the passion that carried the project to its fruition. The photographs were striking. I was awed by the fact that one of the entries I saw came from an 18 year old. I saw different messages that communicated the various images of the Dignity of the Filipino Worker. Some photographs showed strength. Some showed craftsmanship. Some showed cheerful candor. Some showed courage. The top 100 collections showed the different settings of a Filipino at work. The agricultural worker. The professional. The family provider. The builder of highways.


But all in all what I saw in the results of the contest was the ability of Filipinos to exist in a variety of settings. To excel in a variety of fields. To remain bright eyed and enthusiastic no matter what the toil. To keep in productive perseverance no matter what the pressure.



The Outlooke Pointe Foundation highlights this evolution in reviving the use of photography as a craft that empowers, rebuilds and unleashes the passion inherent in every Filipino to take what has been given us from colonialism to slavery, from battle scars to victory and use what has once imprisoned us to be the very experience that sets us free.


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pictures by Javi Cabanes

Lessons from Work Resignations: Seeing Beyond The Change that Endings Bring and Taking that Leap of Faith to Begin Again

I've resigned twice in my life. The first resignation was to pursue higher learning in business school. In that resignation, there was a party to send me and a couple of people off where I got an award for innovation and leadership. I was unsure about my next move. I was scared about the next step. I didn't have any amunition with me to ensure that I will succeed. My life moved on 2 months after and before I knew it I was sitting in a caseroom filled with 73 people from different nationalities battling over airtime to discuss opinions about a 15 pager Harvard Business Case.

I was clueless. I was lost. I felt like a little girl in a room full of grown-ups. What was I doing here, I asked? A few months passed and I realized that I wasn't the only one asking that question. Two years down the line I passed my thesis. My grades weren't impressive. I was only proud of a couple of subjects that were leaning towards self-mastery, art, creativity, entrepreneurship. All the rest were average. Two weeks before graduation, our class president asked if I can deliver the graduation response speech in behalf of our batch. She said I was the best orator in class. It didn't sink in that my oratory skills were worth a place on stage for graduation. I thought those were just given to students who were graduating at the top of the list. The spot was given to me for some reason and so I delivered my first graduation speech in all my academic life. What I didn't get in honor medals or dean's list awards, I miraculously made up for in that 5 minutes of airtime graduating from one of the Philippines' toughest business schools in 2005.

I didn't know what I was going to next. So I ended up volunteering for church as a fulltime youth minister. The experiences were so overwhelming and I needed time to figure my life out again. Coming out of a business boot camp armed me with a sharp mind and a pretty tough interior. It also gave me a humbled spirit. Working for a church organization seemed easy enough. It should be. After all, I was working with a bunch of kids. What can be so complicated with that? But I was mistaken when I realized that I was dealing with unique individualities and vulnerable hearts that called for much nurturing than I was capable of giving. I was spent. Dried up. And in parallel, started off to pursue the first stage of my career as a change catalyst.

They say, people who institute change are those who are able to withstand the toughest change themselves. I've read about people like these. I've read about their lives and I've seen some of them in person. I've always marveled at their tough inner core. Oftentimes shrinking shyly back because I have nothing to show since I considered myself quite weak.

And I am. Two years stay in the company I got into after my volunteer stint exhausted all creativity out of me. Transitioning from entrepreneurial environment to professional without any back-up, no clear structure, no grounded support from the instigator of change whatever I learned in business school that will help me survive went down the drain. Soon I stopped reading business books or leadership journals and went for The Daily Word, Devotionals and Podcasts. I realized that I am battling with the toughest mindset to break in all change initiatives because that mindset belongs to the one who wants the change himself. I went horizontal and reached out to my peers. I went vertical to reach up to management. I barely made a dent.

I'm not sure if I still made a dent. I have stacks of studies and reports and files saved in my hard drive as a result of the churning of brainpower to satisfy all expectations I could ever anticipate. But that's all they are now. Files.

Today is my last day of work and my arms were full this morning because I carried some gifts I bought for a few co-workers who I have grown attached to during my 2.5 year journey. You'd expect someone who has been hired to change the make-up of a 1.2B company to have more than two arm-full of packages. But no. I can only list with my two hands those I can say I really made a difference with. And half of them were not even from any department that I directly worked with. Half of them were the receptionist, the company driver, the company guard, the company janitor and janitress.

But I was cheerful today because I enjoyed painting my gift wrappers and writing handwritten thank you notes to those I wanted to wish all the best to.

I handed them with a "Para sa inyo po." (This is for you) and a warm smile. I know they didn't expect anything from me. And I also didn't expect anything from them. But the response was overwhelming.

Two of them cried after they read my note. And one of them said they were intending to buy a bag (my gift was a knapsack). There was really nothing to my note, I thought. It was a simple:

Napagaan niyo ang mga araw ko dito sa opisina. Salamat sa pag-tulong niyo sa kin sa mga maliit na bagay: pagbukas ng pinto, pagbati sa umaga, pagtimpla ng kape. (You made my life easier here in the office. Thank you for helping me in small things: opening the door, greeting me in the morning, making me coffee).

I didn't realize how much those words meant to them till I saw how it moved them. I didn't realize how much I was grateful really until I saw their tears. I thought I was just being gracious and cordial like people who resign from offices do. But there was something more.

I realized that no matter how small a contribution or how low your position, there will always be a moment meaningful enough to be remembered. Meaningful enough to be held. Meaningful enough to fuel a heart changed forever.

I am much more certain about where I am going this time around. I am much more certain about what I can do and who I want to be. But it's funny because it wasn't some great big career breakthrough or most expected promotion that brought about this epiphany. No awards were given this time to send me off. In fact, if I paid close detail to what the facts say of this experience it only spells one thing: I failed.

I look out of my office window from my little office corner for the last time. The skies are cloudy but the sun is bright. The skyline has patches of gray and orange. Breathing in, I sense something else.

The facts may describe one thing. But faith determines something else. Interspersed with reality and possibility is that very small window of breathing hope. That small window kept me above water. Kept me believing despite circumstances that because I am a child of the heavens, the hands that made a miracle out of me will not stop till the masterpiece is unveiled. Against all odds, against all scars...I am Redeemed. And there's no greater victory I can ever experience in my life than that.

The Flight of Leaves

This morning I had a chance to witness an artpiece in the making. Adi Mari finished her piece on birds and finally showed it to me all the way from London.

Art has always been something captivating for me because it allows me to be drawn inside and outside of myself. The focus of art becomes holistic instead of capturing just one aspect about life. Art makes life three dimensional because it forces you to look at reason (the purpose of pursuing the craft) and passion (the desire to pursue the craft). Art becomes the fruit of a journey's essence manifested in tactile form.

This is why I associate art so much with the journey of faith because it takes a lot of faith to keep up with an artistic journey and it takes a lot of artistic appreciation for life to keep up with the challenges of faith.

I have only started to really establish my journey on looking at how parallel faith and art can be. And today this journey is seen in the artpiece that my friend Adi Mari has made.

I'd call this piece The Flight of Leaves. She has used a variety of media to execute the concept of this artwork. It was quite a painstaking process of gluing in real leaves together to cover cardboard patterns of shapes forming a clutter of leaves at the base. I can imagine the gentle gesture of tracing a curve shaped stencil to draw the birds and capture the wings in flight.

She was talking to me about her fascination for birds ever since she moved to London and I surmise that it is because of how her life has always been. Filled with periods of traveling moving from one country to the next to settle into new homes and leave old ones. It's a melancholy journey of one who's barely anchored to maturity. But it is also quite a courageous journey for someone as young as her because it brings her closer to live a life reliant on faith.

I am caught by the flight of the birds which seems to be moving towards me. I can feel the wind from underneath sweeping the leaves up to the air as the wings swoop down to dip and soar up again. I am enchanted by the colored leaves and Adi Mari's hands that fashioned them intricately. The lines of the work are all moving. Much like Adi Mari's spirit. Moving to find the peacefulness of home in changing skies and the shifting of clouds.

It is true. That art is indeed a self-portrait and this piece can perhaps be her signature work because it literally expresses the story in her soul. One of hope despite the constancy of change and the hurried pace towards acceptance. One of faith despite the hurdles that needs to be crossed amidst the change hues and tones the color her life. One of authenticity despite the realities that challenge the meaning of her truth.

the Flight of Leaves