27/09/2024
I have been writing for Reyfort Media for a while, but this is my first "personal" piece. Thank you, Tita Araceli Angeles Fortaleza, Tito Rey Fortaleza Oly, Ate Rosette ZCorrea, and Tito Christian Cunanan, for indulging me. :)
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Iskorner: Iskuwento Natin ‘To
2, 271 Days of Being an Iska in the Great White North
By Bella Balisi-Bevilacqua
Standing in front of the towering mountains that cradle Vancouver and Burnaby, I feel nostalgia and exhilaration. My journey from the University of the Philippines (UP) to becoming the University of the Philippines Alumni Association in British Columbia (UPAABC) president has been nothing short of a rollercoaster ride—filled with challenges, triumphs, and invaluable lessons.
When I first arrived in Canada, the crisp sky occupied my lungs with a sense of likelihood. It didn't take long for the reality of being a millennial immigrant to set in. The judgments I faced from some fellow UP graduates were tough to swallow. Too many questions were lodged for too many personal choices and decisions I could not avoid and betray.
Coming to Canada was a challenging choice for me. Becoming a citizen of Canada was the last thing I wanted. I have always wanted to return to my shining comfort zone as a professional in the Philippines. I never listened to people's advice—whether it meant good or bad. I've always been a high-risk taker. I've always wanted a different path.
Looking back, my high school teachers said I would have had a future as a journalist. Instead, when I took the UPCAT, I chose programs I'd never heard of—programs that nobody in my class or town took at that time. I decided to be different that way. I still am that way now. I defied everyone who made me feel I couldn't do things. I still do. Haha.
"You're studying forensics? What a departure from the traditional paths," they'd say, their voices laced with skepticism. Some viewed my choices as frivolous, a waste of a prestigious time and an overcalculation of my UP education. Others reminded me I was no longer in the Philippines, where the support network felt more like family.
While writing this, I sipped two mugfuls of coffee and realized I had embraced the challenge. My passion for forensics ignited a curiosity that pulled me into the depths of a criminal investigation. It wasn't just about cracking crimes; it was about absorbing the human experience—the motivations and traumas that lead to darkness. Yet, every late night spent balancing classes, work, and family time often felt like on foot a tightrope, especially when the whispers of doubt echoed in my mind.
Adding to the complexity was the ever-present spectre of racism in Metro Vancouver. I'd face microaggressions at work and on the streets—those seemingly innocent comments that made me painfully aware of my status as an outsider. Some days, it felt like I was waging a silent battle against ignorance, struggling to find my place in a landscape of the unknown that felt so foreign. Yet, amidst these challenges, I found myself winning the boxing match. I don't ever want to describe this as resilience. For me, resilience is for people with no choice but to endure and let things be.
I acquired the skill to prop into the discomfort and use it as fuel. I first articulated my vision: to foster a community where Filipino-Canadians could share their stories and uplift each other. I wanted to create a space where the richness of our heritage met the vibrancy of our Canadian experiences. As we organized events and networking opportunities, I saw how our voices could unite in the face of adversity. I am thankful that the UPAABC has always been a valuable channel for all of these. This was wielding power, too.
Through my role as president, I witnessed the power of camaraderie. We supported each other through job searches, shared resources, and celebrated our cultural milestones. Dialogues about the struggles we face as immigrants are also encouraged—whether they are professional hurdles or the impacts of systemic bias. We became a collective force, proving that the path less travelled can lead to incredible destinations.
My family and loving friends are my cornerstones during this journey. My parents, who sacrificed so much for my education, instilled in me the values of hard work and purpose. Their solid belief in my dreams pushed me onward even when the world felt heavy to take up through my shoulders. Juggling my responsibilities sometimes meant late-night study sessions and early-morning coffee runs. Still, it also meant splitting laughter and stories reminiscent of home and dreams.
As I navigate the intricacies of life in Canada, I remain optimistic. I trust in the pure-heartedness of Canadians—their willingness to embrace diversity and learn from one another. I've found compassion in every encounter, from the barista who remembers my name to the neighbours who invited me for dinner and the fellow Iska who never judged me for my bouts of anxiety and invited me over Christmas for hot mint chocolates and pancakes. These small moments unite a tapestry of belonging, making this country a new home now.
Looking forward to my future in forensics equates to the excitement I could not help but feel as I take the shot to scribe my name into the field and the nuclei of those around me. I want to be the link, connecting cultures, ideas, and experiences. My course may be unordinary, but it's mine—knitted from the threads of my upbringing, battles, and dreams.
In a world that often seeks to outline us by our past or origins, I define myself through my life voyage. As I persist at the sheer drop of new opportunities, I’d always like to do so with an open heart, ready to take on whatever comes afterwards. (MBB)
Read "Philippine Asian News Today, Volume 26: No. 18," here:
https://online.fliphtml5.com/fvqii/opzy/
