Being Truthful in These Uncertain Times: A Letter to the Living Hyphen Community

This post was originally published on our Medium blog.

A lot has changed over the last couple of weeks and if your world looks anything like mine (which I suspect it does,) the days have begun to blur into each other.

We at Living Hyphen have been avoiding posting on social media and sending our usual emails because, well, this moment in time has overwhelmed us. And to be perfectly honest, we haven’t really had anything meaningful to say. Instead, our small but mighty team has been focusing on practicing social distancing, adjusting to our new but rapidly changing circumstances, and, well, just trying to keep sane and level-headed.

I’ll tell you what I haven’t really been able to focus on though: being productive. I would be lying to you if I told you that I have been using this time productively. I just haven’t. I’ve barely done anything.

I have been mentally and emotionally exhausted by the constant barrage of new developments in my home city, my province, our country, and our world as a whole. I am exhausted by all of it and yet can’t seem to peel my eyes away from the news alerts or the What’s App messages endlessly popping up on my phone.

I have also been anxious about my income. Living Hyphen, as you already know, is a self-funded project (or should I say, a Mama Yu-funded project) and our team does not make money off of this venture. So when I’m not creating out of passion for Living Hyphen, I also work as a freelance marketing and communications strategist.

To be a freelancer in “normal” times means to live with the uncertainty of a steady income and the lack of basic benefits. To be a freelancer in these current times is a whole other level of uncertainty that I was not prepared for. I know many of you — as artists, writers, culture workers, and community organizers — must feel similarly.

At the same time, I have been paralyzed by all of the calls to productivity on social media. Everywhere I turn, I’m being told to use this time to take part in a virtual workshop to increase my skills in XYZ, to change my mindset and treat this as a creative retreat, to turn my home into a gym to lose weight and get fit.

I’ve fallen into each trap and tried all of those things in just these two short weeks. Each time, I have felt a deep sense of disembodiment and dissociation. It just all seems so trivial and irrelevant at this moment.

Mostly, I have been worried about my family here in Canada, particularly my parents and elderly aunts and uncles who live alone. I have been worried about my family in the Philippines where there is a lockdown under a president with dictatorial tendencies and where access to resources and healthcare is far more precarious.

My mind just keeps circling back to these questions: How can I be there for all of them? How can I take care — of myself, of family, of friends, of you, of my community?

I don’t have the answers and I don’t really know where I wanted to go with this letter. I just started writing. I just wanted to seek comfort in your community. To check in. To see if you are feeling similarly overwhelmed. To reassure each other that it is ok. To take care from afar in the only way I know how to right now, which is, I guess, through my words.

Are you feeling any of these things too? How are you doing? How are you feeling?

Every day I wake up and it’s like the world I had such a firm grip on is quickly escaping me.

But it’s not all terrible. As always, in all that gloom is some light. For me personally, that light is coming from all the stories submitted to Living Hyphen’s Issue 2.

Though we have been working far slower than usual and with way more stops and starts than we’re used to, our team has begun reviewing submissions these last few weeks. We received over 550 submissions for Across Generations and we are taking our time reading through each and every story, poring over each and every piece of artwork.

I personally have been reviewing only a few submissions a day — in truth, just as much as my brain will allow me. But these stories have been keeping me grounded, bringing me joy during this difficult time. I want to thank everyone who so generously shared their stories with us. It is truly a gift.

I hope to share more meaningful updates soon.

In the meantime, please stay healthy, look out for your neighbours, and be kind to yourself. May you find stillness in the midst of all this chaos. And remember, we’re all in this together.

The Intention Behind “Across Generations”

The Intention Behind “Across Generations”

Living Hyphen’s theme for Issue 2 is a big one. It is ambitious. It is delicate. It is all-encompassing.

Across Generations aims to uncover the stories of our ancestors, of our lineage, of the blood that courses through our veins. And how that all influences our present day.

Not exactly light, is it?

It’s no wonder then that we’ve had to extend our deadline twice since announcing our call for submissions back in October. We’ve received an overwhelming amount of emails from those in our community requesting for more time. We’ve received so many notes expressing the difficulty in capturing a theme so big, a theme that touches not just our own personal, individual stories (which is hard enough in itself) but also those of so many others who have come before us.

I understand that on a very real level. I myself have been trying to write this blog for months now and have spent countless hours in front of my laptop trying to find the words to even begin.

Across Generations, as all things Living Hyphen, comes from a deeply personal place for me. But this theme cuts to my very core. Why? How? Let me count the ways…

Living Hyphen on Dual Citizen — And A Call for Solidarity with Indigenous Nations

Living Hyphen on Dual Citizen — And A Call for Solidarity with Indigenous Nations

Yesterday our work at Living Hyphen was featured on the latest episode of Dual Citizen — a mini documentary series exploring eureka moments within the Filipino diaspora. Through conversations with community leaders, artists, entrepreneurs, educators, and culture changers, Dual Citizen examines the power that comes from embracing dual identities — and how this translates to our respective creative and community work.

There is one part to this episode that I want to address directly because it has not been sitting right with me. When Dual Citizen asks me about the most surprising story that’s in our magazine, I talked about one of the submissions from a man of Plains Cree and Métis descent who described his experience of living in between cultures despite being Indigenous to this land. I said, “For him, being an Indigenous person here in Canada has almost felt like a diasporic experience because of the displacement that [the Indigenous community] has felt.”

I cringe when I hear myself say that. I cringe at this segment of the episode because I feel that my words downplay the experiences of Indigenous nations against violent colonial forces. So let me be clear now. It is not merely a displacement that “they felt”. It is not simply a felt experience, but an intentional, systematic, and violent destruction and theft of their peoples, cultures, and land.

1 Year Later: Living Hyphen on Diversifying Canadian Arts and Literature

1 Year Later: Living Hyphen on Diversifying Canadian Arts and Literature

Living Hyphen is celebrating its one year anniversary this month and I wanted to take a breath and take stock of all the incredible moves we’ve made this year.

To be perfectly honest, it feels uncomfortable writing this piece. It feels uncomfortable to list and elaborate on all the achievements and successes we’ve had, however big or small. It feels unnatural and unbecoming. It feels premature when there is still so much we can do.

But I’m doing it anyway.

Because in a world where there is always something more to chase, more to achieve, more to give, it is important that we pause and recognize our efforts.

Because in a world that downplays, ignores, and erases the contributions of those from marginalized communities, this seemingly simple act of speaking our accomplishments out loud is actually an integral and powerful act of resistance.