There comes a time in your life so unique when you suddenly know who you are and what you want. It’s the light at the end of the tunnel, they say. It is a time when you stop grasping for random things that come your way. You get rid of all the accumulated clutter of the silly years that have gone by. You refrain from asking old questions and venture on finding answers to new ones instead.
My birthday falls on June 12, our country’s Independence Day. Since I turned 21 this year, I would like to think it was mine as well. But don’t get me wrong. I value the significance of our national holiday, although I find it nice that the entire country celebrates my birthday with flags instead of balloons and with patriotic songs instead of a birthday song.
My mom used to tease me that she almost named me Aguinalda, or Filipinas, or even Independencia. I am glad she used her better judgment and named me Marla. My sister Franz, who was born on Nov. 30, has not been as lucky. She is sometimes called Bonifacia or Andrea by friends and relatives.
It is no idle boast when I say that I have a relatively clear picture of my life already, at least career-wise. I no longer hope. Or maybe I don’t rely too much on hope. Fulfilling one’s dream is a process of grasping, realizing and knowing who you are and what you want. Knowing precedes achieving.
Still fresh out of college, I steadfastly pursue the profession I believe I belong to: journalism. Getting the job wasn’t too difficult; I didn’t have to experience what most new graduates have to endure. Sending resumés to various companies and agencies was not even an option I had to consider.
You see, way before my college graduation, I already targeted my present job. So I worked my way to achieving it by making sure I got all the training I could get so that I would deserve it. Four days after graduation, I found myself saying hello to the world of employment!
The job is not a walk in the park. I am well aware that journalism entails constant training. I am very willing to face and overcome the challenges that await me, and fulfill the profession’s, and publication’s, standards.
After about a month as a correspondent, I find myself enthralled. Legwork is always an adventure. Challenging. Frustrating. Surprising.
Yes, surprise comes with the job. You wake up at seven in the morning surprised by a call telling you to get moving and cover an event scheduled at 8 a.m. in a place that is a two-hour commute from your place! You are surprised when your article got published when you thought all along that it didn’t meet the deadline. You are surprised with the sudden easy courage you feel in exploring unfamiliar towns and villages. You are surprised, and affected, by the stories of people. And finally you are surprised when somebody hands you a white envelope by the staff of a government official you are covering.
The last doesn’t really come as a surprise; I have heard about the practice before. But I live by what my editor and former college teacher said: “Five centavos, P5, P50, P500, 5K, 5M, 5B—pare-pareho lang ’yan. It is not the amount that matters, but the act of accepting. Just say no.”
I knew that even before I decided to pursue the degree that there is not much money in journalism, but money is not everything. While most of my high school batchmates took up “more practical” courses which would supposedly assure them of employment abroad, I am glad my parents let me choose my college course entirely on my own.
Once I set my heart and mind on something, no one can steer me to another direction. I do my best to achieve my goal. That is what I mean when I say I am an independent thinker. And I owe that to my parents who made it a point to always hear my thoughts first before they give their advice, not the other way around.
So even if I barely earn enough from my job as a journalist, that’s all right with me. No amount of cajoling from anyone to work somewhere else for better pay can move me. Many call it being impractical, even a waste of time, talent or skill. I call it idealism. After all, what matters is not what the world brings you but what you bring to it. And through journalism, with all its challenges, surprises and financial instability, I am doing my part for the country.
Besides, I have a part-time job to augment my income. I am an online tutor on weeknights, teaching English to foreign students for four straight hours. One does not have to sacrifice one’s idealism to survive.
My father has been toiling for more than 20 years abroad just to provide for our family. It’s about time he retired and came back to spend the rest of his life with us. I intend to do my part also for my family.
After celebrating my 21st birthday, something tells me that the years that will follow will not be easy. But despite that, and knowing that my teenage years are totally behind me, I embrace this new world as a career woman.
Freedom, it has often been said, is a state of mind. So is independence. That is when you know who you are and what you want. You fill in the blanks you yourself created not so long ago. You answer your questions as you go along and gain knowledge, experience and understanding. Somehow you are not disturbed too much about your future anymore.
You cannot say when exactly did all these thoughts start to fill your head. One day you subconsciously take a quick trip down memory lane and there you saw the bulb lighted, and many other bulbs are lighted. Yet you can’t even remember reaching for the switch.
I can’t tell since when, or for how long, and I don’t know if that’s what I have become, or if that’s what I have been all along: an independent thinker.
Marla Viray, 21, is a Northern Luzon correspondent of the Philippine Daily Inquirer.