Kamusta, kaibigan?
Welcome to #PUNTOTalks, our monthly podcast/chikahan series featuring the voices of Filipinos from the diaspora. This series will focus on global Pinoys who embody fascinating intersections in their own identities and experiences.
#PUNTOTalks will delve into the beauty and the unique challenges of juggling multiple identities, the intersections between them, and our often complex relationship with the motherland.
Our first guest is Ate* Laureen Laglagaron (she/her), a Filipina American civil rights lawyer and writer in Takoma Park, Maryland. She is a senior attorney in the U.S. Department of Justice and a national expert in language access.
Born and raised in Vancouver, she is Filipina Canadian by origin but naturalized as an American citizen later in life. Her family is from the Central Visayas province of Bohol (where my own family is also from!). For me, she embodies the intersections between the Filipino-Canadian, Filipino-American, and Boholano diasporic communities.
Our conversation spans the gamut from pursuing the creative life as Filipinos, the joy of being in your 40s, the regional complexities of the Fil-Am diaspora, the racialized narratives prioritized within the publishing industry, and the exquisite gastronomic delight that is Jollibee’s Peach Mango Pie. We also share some giggles about repping Bohol, our province back home in the Philippines.
Click above to listen to the full episode. You can also read a lightly abbreviated transcript of our conversation below.
*Ate is a Tagalog word (with Fukien origins) that means “older sister.” It’s an honorific typically used for an older female relative or respected friend in Filipino culture.
Maki:
Tell me more about what 2023 looks like for you. There were a lot of changes in 2022.
Laureen:
It’s funny. I would like 2023 to be a continuation of 2022. I don’t really believe in making resolutions. I love the idea of flipping a new page, but I don’t really feel I need to do that every January.
I am a full-time civil rights attorney and working mom. And I am now also writing at the sidelines of my job. I think I wanna continue to do that in 2023.
I think about 2023 in terms of my writing life. This is the year I need to finish the first draft of my novel. 2023 is the quiet time – the unglamorous, unsexy time of writing – where it’s just me alone in this room just hammering out ugly drafts. I think it’s gonna be a quiet time but hopefully a productive time.
Writing is something I've always wanted to do ever since I was in Swarthmore. I thought when I recommitted myself to it, “Oh, I either have to be a writer, or I have to be a civil rights attorney.” And [that] I had to choose.
Actually, in large parts of 2022, I was ready to make the jump and just give up my civil rights career. But I'm actually really glad that I didn't, for a couple of reasons. One is, I still enjoy my civil rights work. And it informs my writing. I mean, all of my writing is – if it doesn't directly address race – it involves people of color, right? So I couldn't really give up the intellectual part of my life. My civil rights job informs my creative life.
I was ready to apply to MFAs. [Last December] would've been the December that I would have applied for MFAs, because my dream in life was to go to the Iowa Writers Workshop. That was my dream.
But then I started to get into all of these workshops, and I met MFAs and non-MFAs, and it was really inspiring. They're all your age, Maki. <laugh> Well, they’re even younger. I met poets who were in their twenties. In my head, I was like, I could be your mom! <laugh>
I got into a couple of prestigious workshops, which was amazing. But also scary for me. I got into the Tin House Workshop. All of them were juried workshops.
I would only go to juried workshops, or I'd only go to workshops where I would get a scholarship because I was also thinking about the money.
Maki:
Sorry, what do you mean by juried workshops?
Laureen:
See, there are all these things that I learned myself over the last 18 months that I now take for granted!
So there are a couple of prestigious workshops that have famous or semi-famous writers who teach the workshops. And I'd never been in a workshop. I've never taken any creative writing course.
The workshop format is: you apply with a short story or excerpts from a novel. And then the selection committee decides whether or not you can make it into the workshop. And then they put you with particular authors.
During the workshop, all of your people in the workshop read your work and then provide you feedback for 45 minutes. You’re silent, you say nothing, you can’t react. All these other people are just talking about your writing and how they feel about it. And then at the end, you can address it.
So that's a very typical conservative approach to a workshop, which I like. My first workshop was like that.
There are a couple of them that are prestigious because they're affiliated with publishing houses or with literary journals. Like Tin House, because they have publishing. I really wanted to get into Kenyon Review, but I was waitlisted. I got scholarships for Napa Valley and Sonoma County. And then I got my first residence with The Writer's Colony at Dairy Hollow in Arkansas.
Maki:
That's so exciting. Oh my gosh.
Laureen:
I mean, this was me just sitting down and thinking and applying my highly analytical lawyer brain to: “I would like to be a writer.” And there's all this information on the Internet about how to be a writer and what writers do.
What I did was [take] all of the books that I love to read, [flip] to the back, and [look] at: What are the workshops that they went to? What was their training?
Maki:
Strategic.
Laureen:
Totally. Exactly. What was their path. That’s what I tried to replicate.
Because I've been at my civil rights job for 12 years now – almost 13 – I now have a lot more vacation time. So I would just take vacation time and invest in myself and go to these writers workshops and really push myself beyond anything that I'd ever done before.
So when I think about 2023, that's what I would like to do more of. To feel uncomfortable [and] get into spaces where I'm learning new things. Because when I'm feeling scared I know I'm in the right place, you know? Like I'm pushing myself.
Maki:
Leaning into vulnerability, as Brene Brown would say.
Laureen:
Leaning into vulnerability, but also acknowledging my ignorance about things, right?
You know, it’s not unusual for people in their mid-40s to feel like: Is this it? Is this all I'm gonna do with my life?
…And we have a really wonderful life here. But I felt like there was something missing. And for me, the “something missing” was hearing my own voice. And in my job. Because of what I do, I'm limited in what I can say publicly because of the nature of my cases, right?
But there's so much I have to say. There's so much I want to say. And fiction is a great place to dump that stuff. <laugh>
I love to be able to express my point of view, but I think what has been really interesting for 2022 is that: Oh, there are receptive ears to this? People wanna hear it? I think that was the magic of 2022. That what I write in this room might be useful to other people or that it resonates with them. Especially because most of my writing focuses on Filipino-American lives, Filipino-American migrant lives.
I've written for myself. I've written for my family. I write what I would wanna write, what I would wanna read, and what I think my friends and family would wanna read. So for me, it's much more surprising. It was actually really surprising to hear that non-Filipinos resonate with these migration tales. Like: Oh, that's cool. I'm glad you're getting that. There’s a universality in certain stories.
My big project is a novel. It’s about a woman who has to leave her 7-year-old daughter behind in Cebu or Bohol. I haven’t decided yet. And to become an undocumented worker in the DMV area.
I really want to focus on the daughter’s character. It’s told in two voices: you hear the mom's voice, but you also hear the daughter's voice. And part of the reason why I want to focus on that is – right now, it's tentatively called “The Left Behind” – it really focuses on the children left behind by migration.
Because we hear these successful stories of like, oh, she made it, she made it, but we don't really hear about the costs on the children and the family structure in the Philippines of those left behind. And it's massive. It's emotional. And I'm not saying it's a bad thing, but we ought to acknowledge that that is also a cost of migration.
You know, I started out as an immigration attorney, and then I worked in immigration policy and then now civil rights. So it's bringing in all of these realms that I’ve studied, I’ve contributed to, I've researched, and then sort of putting in my own voice now. Now I can step back.
For whatever reason, I feel confident enough to say: Okay, I got this. Now I can tell the story of us, right? Because I think there is so much depth to the Filipino-American story that we have not even scratched the surface of.
I just finished Min Jin Lee's amazing book “Pachinko,” and it has made me rethink colonialism and the legacy of American colonialism in the Philippines and migration patterns.
Maki:
I've heard a lot about that book [Pachinko]. I need to read that.
Laureen:
I’ve been trying to think about: Okay, how am I going to weave that in?
The writing has kept me happy and has kept me – I don't even know how to describe it, because it feels that even when it's hard and even when I can't sit here and can't think of a sentence – it feels good to be pursuing your dream. You know what I mean?
Maki:
Yeah. So thank you for that. And actually, that leads in perfectly to my next question!
I know you were talking about your journey over the last 10 or 12 years starting as an immigration attorney. Now you're in civil rights.
Talk to me about that time when – and maybe this was in 2022 – when you were ready to drop everything at that nexus point and how you navigated that juncture in your life.
Laureen:
It was messy.
Maki:
Yeah. Tell me more.
Laureen:
You’re seeing it at the end, but there were a lot of tears. You know, like: What am I doing with my life? Is this really what I want to be doing?
Because I'm 45. I think that's like 20 more years of work life, right? Because retirement is 65, right? And so for me, I just had to think: Am I doing everything I wanted to do? And am I making an impact?
It’s similar to the George Floyd issue: Am I doing as much as I can? And people would say: Of course, you're a civil rights attorney. But I felt there was more I could do there [and] more I could give voice to.
I have a unique perspective as someone who was born in Vancouver, Canada, who migrated to the United States, and who has a Filipino background. I’ve been able to look at things differently than [I would have] had I been raised here.
I think growing up in Canada was super useful, because, specifically in Vancouver, there’s a huge Asian population, right? It's two-thirds Asian. My high school was like 40-50% Asian. It gave me a different perspective moving to the United States because there’s a different racial hierarchy here than there is in Canada.
Maki:
Can you go more into that? I wanna tease that out.
Laureen:
Yeah. Well, certainly in Vancouver, there's a lot of Asian wealth. And when there is wealth, there’s authority and there's power, right?
My parents hustled so I could go to the best private schools. You grew up around wealthy Asian-Canadians, and just having that power, I never felt like I was missing anything. It just gave me [such] confidence that when I moved [to America], I noticed there's an expectation that I ought to act a particular way because I'm Asian. I was just like, that's bizarre. You know, I've never encountered that before.
I don't think I fit the mold of – I don’t even think there is a particular mold for Asian-Americans. I don’t know, it’s hard to describe. It’s hard to describe.
Maki:
Okay. We can come back to it.
I think what you’re probably describing is – and I’ve felt this too as an Asian-American having moved here in my late teens – not [necessarily being forced] but seeing in popular culture that there’s a way to represent your culture and your identity and [being] forthright about it.
There’s the Asian experience, the Latinx experience, and the Black experience. And you hear all of the ways you can be Asian, and [being Asian] is great, but there’s also Filipinos, who are not necessarily included in the dominant narrative about Asian-Americans in this country.
Laureen:
Yeah. Have you read Elaine Castillo’s new book?
Maki:
Which one? I read her first one, but…
Laureen:
It’s How To Read Now. It’s amazing. It's a collection of essays. I gave it to everyone I know for the holidays. And there is a podcast; I'll send you the link to the podcast. It's long – it's two and a half hours – but I'm slightly obsessed with her.
But there’s this really nice part of the podcast at least where she talks about how it's hard for her to – and I'm totally paraphrasing – it's hard for her to easily identify with the Asian-American experience being on the West Coast because some of her tormentors were other Asians. There was intra-Asian prejudice.
And so I was like, yes, exactly. That was my experience in Vancouver as well. There's a hierarchy in Asians in Vancouver, but that gets erased for the most part when you move to the East Coast because they're just like: Oh, your English is so good! <laugh>
Maki:
I know. It's like: Wow, great job getting into a really good school!
Laureen:
Right, exactly. So there’s a nuance there.
But first of all, I cannot recommend her book enough because it blows up the publishing industry and how we ought to be reading authors of color. One of the things that stuck with me was – and I could talk about her forever – was that she talked about how authors of color can’t just write about marriage like anyone else. You know, it has to be “the Filipino-American experience” with marriage.
I also feel there is something unique to say about Filipino-American culture and perhaps how we approach family, but the publishing industry wants to only push forth a particular type of narrative.
Maki:
It's a very racialized lens.
I mean, you’re kind of seeing folks go into more sci-fi [and other types of genres] – like Asian-American writers [are going] into these fields that are not traditionally sort of occupied by Asians. But predominantly it's definitely still a racialized lens.
How do you think your book will grapple with those questions?
Laureen:
…Not gonna answer anything about my book. <laugh>
Maki:
Maybe it's still too soon.
You’re just like, I'm just writing “ugly drafts.” <laugh>.
Laureen:
We've already talked far more about my book that is still only halfway done. <laugh>
That’s the other part. 2022 was my coming out as a writer. To just say it out loud is a huge deal. And then to have people in these workshops engaging with your work; they’re talking about it and they’re talking to you about it. There’s a part of me that’s just still like, You read it? I’m so glad you read it! <laugh>
So we’ll talk about my book later, but I just feel like oh no, I don’t wanna jinx it.
Maki:
When you talked about growing up in Canada and hustling as a child of immigrants, what was that like for you? What were some of those expectations that your parents shared?
Laureen:
Interestingly, my parents didn't push me towards any professions. However, every day, my mom would ask me: Who's the smartest kid in class? <laugh>
Maki:
Implicit. <laugh>
Laureen:
They didn't have to tell me. There was just an expectation that you would be amazing. And I got it.
They never said you have to be a doctor or you have to be a lawyer. But there’s an expectation that if you are going to do whatever you do, you better be the best at it. But they never explicitly said that to me.
But it was my dad who handed over the Swarthmore pamphlet to me and was like: You should apply here. And how did he know this? Of course. US News and World Report! The rankings. He was like, these [colleges] are the ones you should apply to.
They sent me to the top private school in Vancouver. They were always supportive. They didn't have to push me.
Maki:
You pushed yourself, you were self-motivated.
Laureen:
I was self-motivated. I wanted to try new things.
I went to an all-girls school. I might have talked about this before, but I could tell that the all-boys school always had more resources than us. So they would go to these conferences and they would do these debate things. They had incredible teachers for writing that I would be super jealous of.
So I would try to figure out how to partner with the all-boys school so that we, too, could go on these fabulous trips. I was debating a lot with this all-boys school. I definitely probably wanted to be a boy because I knew that they had more resources in their school than we did at that time.
So there was no exterior… my parents weren't like: You need to do this. I think the only time I felt – I don't know if it's pressure, I don't think it was pressure – but I think I could tell they were worried when I graduated law school and took the Equal Justice Works Fellowship because it paid $37,500 in the San Francisco Bay Area.
They were very concerned about how I would live on that small amount of money in the Bay Area. And like, what is the trajectory? So I think they were more worried about my financial stability rather than what I was doing.
I will tell you: they are totally on board with this writing thing. When I was thinking about quitting it all and just applying to MFAs, they were like: We can help you with your MFA! We’re happy to help! Which was amazing. I was like, no, thank you! I don't need that. Because at that time I was only gonna apply to MFAs that were fully funded.
But yeah, I'm glad I didn't because that's the other reality about a writer's life. A lot of the people that I met at these workshops have multiple jobs. Or they were stringing together grants in order to support the writing. And here I have a job where if I can only eke out a couple of hours a day, then I can pay my mortgage and also write. You know, these are the realities when you have a family. Right?
I’ve done a lot of reading of different books about writing. And another thing that stuck with me is that, look, you can get an MFA, but they don’t teach you how to have a job and write.
And so I thought: Okay, well, if I could just figure out how to balance it on my own, then there's no need for me to get an MFA. I would just get that feedback that I would want when I'm ready for it at these workshops. And also, there's so many people who don't have MFAs who end up publishing novels.
Maki:
The MFA experience, actually, I've read a lot about it too. [Back when] I was thinking: Should I do journalism? Should I do creative writing? And MFAs just seemed really expensive to me.
And there were a lot of mixed reviews about whether it paid off for them in the long run. I guess if you go to Iowa, you have all those connections, right? Like the professors and the publishing houses and the more prestigious writers’ programs. But on the whole, MFAs are not cheap. <laugh>
Laureen:
They're not cheap, but it's also..
Maki:
They're not guaranteed.
Laureen:
Yeah, exactly. But that's the other thing. It’s not a guarantee that you will get published.
And so right now, I think 2023 is sort of my cocoon year of writing, where I'm just gonna put the noise out and just write.
I think that's the other reason why I didn't wanna do an MFA right now. I'm not ruling it out for the future, but right now, there's a lot of stories that I already have in my head that I just wanna put down on paper and I wanna put them down before I might be influenced by a particular professor or particular students. I'm happy to get that level of influence later. But right now, there's stuff that I'm thinking about that I really just wanna put down first.
Maki:
It's purely creative right now. It’s a purely creative flow, and you can refine it later on.
Laureen:
Yeah. Because once you go to MFAs, you start to hear little things like: Oh, short stories aren't really sellable, so maybe you shouldn't do a short story. All those little things, I don't have time for that.
That’s the beauty I will tell you about being in your early forties: You do not give a s**t about what people think! It’s amazing, right? But it gives you a lot of confidence [to say]: Okay, I hear what you're saying. I'm gonna do it differently still.
Maki:
Yeah. That’s great.
I have two more questions. One is writing-related in terms of Filipino literature, and the other is more generally about biculturalism and biracialism. And then we can wrap up.
Laureen:
Yeah.
Maki:
So the first question is [about] when you were talking about writing “what you know” and creative “dumping.”
There are some writers in the Philippines who are writing in Bisaya and Waray, actually. I just found out about them literally last night. I’ll share you on their links.
Would you ever be interested in writing in Bisaya, Tagalog, or anything like that?
Laureen:
My dialogue’s in Bisaya.
Maki:
Oh, amazing. Oh my gosh.
Laureen:
My dialogue's in Bisaya. That’s how they communicate with one another. Plus, I already incorporate a lot of Bisaya and particularly Boholano jud (it’s very Boholano)!
I was listening to someone in Cebuano and I was talking to my mom and I was like, it sounds weird to me because that’s the accent! Because all the people I speak Bisaya to are Boholano. <laugh>
So that’s my goal. My goal is to write the first Filipino-American-Boholano novel! <laugh>
Maki:
I think honestly, having read a lot of these [fiction] books, like Elaine Castillo’s, we need more of those.
Laureen:
That's the experience, right? That's the other thing. That's the Ilocano experience, but it's different for me. I don't have that experience.
There's so few people I could talk to about this, but yes, it's different. It's different.
Boholanos are also different from Tagalogs, right? We’re kinder, first of all. We’re super nice. <laugh>
Maki:
Yeah. We're more fun. We're less elitist. <laugh>
Laureen:
Yes. Yes. And because, I think, there's that tinge of probinsiyana to us, which I'm okay with!
Maki:
Yes. Oh my gosh.
Laureen:
Yes. I'm okay with that. Go for it. Call me that. Whatever. I’m not Manileña.
Maki:
You're not Imperial Manila. <laughs>
Laureen:
Right, right. And I'm okay with that. It’s not how I was raised.
The Philippines I know is Bohol. It’s Tagbilaran City.
It’s not Manila. Manila was the place that we would stop off on our way to Bohol. It’s Tagbilaran City. Those are the images that I’m conjuring of the Philippines and what it looks like. The images are Bohol.
Maki:
I love that. I did grow up in Manila, but I spent all of my vacations in Bohol. You know, I barely know Manila these days. I’m usually in Bohol, and it doesn’t change that much really. <laugh>
Laureen:
I mean, Manila is fun for shopping and for restaurants. But for relaxation and spending time with family, it’s Bohol.
I mean, the beaches alone… but it's so expensive now. Oh my goodness. Why is it so expensive?
Maki:
I don’t know what it is, but I think people are finally catching onto Bohol as a tourist destination. Filipinos have always known about this, but [it’s] Western tourists whom they’re catering to.
I mean, Alona Beach, oh my God. It’s becoming a mini-Boracay or Phuket. It’s really Westernized. It’s almost not like Bohol. And they have vegan food, which is weird in Bohol!
Laureen:
<laugh> I know. I'm trying not to dump on the vegan Filipinos, ‘cause I know way too many vegan Filipinos, but there's part of me that's like, wow. Good job being vegetarian or vegan.
Maki:
In Bohol though. Like, for real.
I just feel like there is a sort of encroaching commercialism – which has always been there because Bohol has always been a tourist destination – but if we’re not careful, and we don’t preserve what makes Bohol unique and that probinsiyana flair, I think we’re gonna lose it.
Laureen:
Totally.
Maki:
Yeah. And so anyway, so that was an aside. <laugh>
Just for some context for this podcast: Ate Laureen and I are both Boholanos, our parents are Boholanos, and we’re totally just repping that province, Bohol.
My last question [goes] back to the biculturalism and biracialism you were talking about earlier, growing up in Canada and America. Now that you have a child of your own, what are some of the aspects that you would take from growing up in Canada and how your parents raised you? Would you use some of that, or are you using some of that with your daughter?
Laureen:
I think the first thing is: I do not ask her who the smartest person is in the class! Though I want to, I want to! <laugh>
I know that particularly in the area that we're in – the District-Maryland-Virginia area – it can be really competitive already. And my daughter is eight, and I just don't want her to be influenced by that rat race of trying to get into college because it’s just so competitive. And I do not know how kids are keeping their mental health and sanity during that process.
I think obviously we care about how she does well in school, but it’s not the be-all and end-all for who you become as a person.
I mean, she’s super Pinay. In the sense that she will be the first to tell you that her mom’s from the Philippines, she’s been to Bohol [and] she loves going there.
I think the regret that I have is that I don't speak the language to her because both my Bisaya and Tagalog are laughable. And there are no… we tried to do Tagalog classes online during COVID, but they were not great. So I think it’s hard to convey the language, but what is not hard is conveying the culture.
We have gone to like… we're not far from the University of Maryland, College Park, and they have a Filipino-American Student Association that on occasion has these big galas.
Maki:
That's right. Yeah, they're super active.
Laureen:
Exactly. So one of my friends, Gem Daus, teaches Filipino-American history there. He’s always letting me know when they have their performances, and so we’ll go to see the performances.
Certainly the books that we have at home, I feel like I have every single Filipino book that is in English that teaches you about the history of the Philippines. You know, [my daughter’s] very proud. I mean, we play sungkaan, that is like a game we play. And the food that we eat. She's surrounded by the culture.
In fact, speaking of Filipino-American history, there is a professor here in Georgetown. His name is Edwin Tiongson, and he does Filipino-American history walking tours of the District. And so when my parents were here, we went on a walking tour. And Lilia was with us and her friends.
So were they really paying attention to… you know, I think this is the thing with kids. You expose them to things you think they're not paying attention to at all, but if they retain like 20% or 30%, they’re…
Maki:
Soaking it in.
Laureen:
Exactly.
I think with all Asian-Americans who live on the East Coast who used to live on the West Coast, there is a wistfulness about how I wish that we were on the West Coast because there's just more Asians. There's more Asian food, there's more people who look like her at school. Right now, I think [there are] two Asian kids in her third-grade class. My third-grade class was like 40% or 50% Asian. I feel sad that I can't provide her with that.
On the other hand, I didn't grow up around Blacks and Latinos. And particularly in the United States, it is so important to understand how anti-Blackness and white supremacy has infiltrated almost every part of our culture here, whether or not we wanna acknowledge it. And so I think her having a diverse set of friends balances out the wistfulness I have for her not being [around] other Filipinos and Asians.
Maki:
I mean, the DC area is a melting pot. <laugh>
Laureen:
That's the thing. It’s very diverse, but it's just not as Asian as my…It's hard. <laugh>.
Maki:
You know, I’ve lived in Ohio, Alabama, Louisiana, and all these different places. Where there are a lot of Filipinos actually. You just need to know where to find them.
I do miss being on the West Coast. My husband’s dad lives on the West Coast and we’ve been talking about moving out there, but I also feel like I’ve lived enough in places where there haven’t been enough Filipinos, and I can really empathize with [that culture and that experience]. If I were to go to the West Coast, I would lose something that kind of makes me special.
But there’s beauty in numbers. I loved it when I was living in Sacramento a few years ago for one summer, and I loved being able to go to Jollibee down the street. And Seafood City.
Laureen:
Seafood City, yeah. All of those places.
Maki:
All of those things are happening and I’m like, back in the Philippines but I’m not. It was so weird. <laugh>
Laureen:
Amazing. Yeah. But first of all, we have a Jollibee here now in Silver Springs. It's amazing.
There have been a few times where we have gone just for the Peach Mango Pie, which is by far the best fast food dessert, period. There’s no other fast food dessert that is better than Jollibee’s Peach Mango Pie.
Maki:
It's bigger here in the U.S. too. Cause in the Philippines, it’s two bites. But here, it’s four bites. <laughs>
Laureen:
I’ll tell you what. The toys that come with their kids’ meals are bigger in the Philippines than they are here.
Maki:
I've never gotten the toys here, so I didn’t know that.
Laureen:
Yes, yes. Oh gosh. <laugh>
Maki:
Wow. Well, we’ll have plenty of places to check out when I come visit you.
Laureen:
Sure. For sure.
Maki:
Do you have any parting thoughts in terms of 2023? What is your punto for 2023?
Laureen:
I think it's going inward. This is like my writing, because I think my civil rights work is just continuing along its path. For my writing life, it is going inward and really finding the stories that I wanna tell. Maybe it's a novel, maybe it's a short story. But I think it’s going inward and being okay with that.
I think that's the other thing. Like, being disconnected [while] going inward and not really interacting with a whole lot of folks, that’s okay too. That there are periods where you are not going to be in touch with everyone that you know. And that's okay because for me, it really helps my creativity to sit in a room and be forced to put words on a page, maybe consult a book or two, but really go deep.
I think that's where I hope to be for 2023. That I cover some good stuff that I put in writing even if it's an ugly first draft. And then perhaps in 2024, figure out how to release it in the world somehow. But 2023, it's all about just digging in.
A quick note:
#PUNTOTalks is meant to be a constantly evolving series that will highlight the multiplicity of the Filipino experience, and will feature folks from abroad as well as in the Philippines.
I highly welcome your suggestions on who to profile in #PUNTOTalks, especially those with underrepresented identities in the diaspora and back home (i.e., OFWs, Lumad, trans and non-binary Filipinx, biracial Filipinos, Mindanaoans).
Please don’t hesitate to reach out to me at angpuntoko@gmail.com with your profile ideas, or leave them in the comments below! 🙂
#PUNTOTalks with Laureen Laglagaron