Operation Merienda

Two years ago, an old friend of mine who works in finance, offered me a free consultation to get my finances in tip-top shape. The first step was to account for every single thing I spend my money on - a really involved and rather dizzying budget sheet. On the “charity” line of my spreadsheet he commented: “You can’t afford that right now”. The subsequent comment then read: “You are like what now, 31? Why is your savings so low?”

Immediately repulsed, I mulled over the comment for a few more hours. I figured perhaps as a first-generation student, that maybe my perceived subtext of his comments on “the black underclass” was gnawing at me. I rationalized that perhaps his intention was not necessarily coming from a bad place. Perhaps it wasn't necessarily even racialized. Maybe he was just trying to help? Perhaps trying to offer me information provisions on financial literacy that has historically been kept away from people with backgrounds like mine? A week later he followed up, asking me if I had any thoughts on his assessment. I told him that perhaps this was a clear symptom of a simple “cultural clash”.

His comment was about a hundred dollar donation I made to a former classmate in the Philippines; his daughter Justine was 2 months old and needed a liver surgery. In response, his sister and I organized a fundraising effort so that baby Justine can be saved. I explained this to my finance friend and he told me that I am doing myself a “disservice by being in debt and not prioritizing my future."

“And you have a child, you should be more responsible,” he kindly added.

My mother emigrated from the Philippines to the United States in 1988 with 100 dollars in her pocket. My family back home lives in an agrarian community in Southern Philippines where the primary source of income for most families is agriculture. Anyone who has witnessed abject poverty and understands the implications thereof would have a better understanding of the ideas of interconnectedness, and the sacred duty of community stewardship --a concept that is lost in a wealthy country where the acquisition of wealth and selfishness is prioritized, and living in excess is romanticized.

My mother was the only one in her family to make it to the United States. Everything is perceived to be better here. She left her professorship in history and civil engineering at a prestigious institution in exchange for the dollar; her month’s salary back home translated to a week’s worth of work as a caretaker in America. Anyone from an immigrant family will share with you the expectations that God’s blessing of bringing you financial opportunity implies.

You’re the chosen one. The lucky one. The one who must now carry the sacred duty of financially supporting your family back home... lest, God is watching.

While the Philippines is a very catholic and religious nation, doubly more so for my Christian Alliance family. Tithing and offerings were seen as something you are honored to do in service of your community, and in service of God. But people typically never really send remittances back home out of fear that your maker will destroy you for selfishness.

No. It’s just something you do. Your purpose of serving your community should work in tandem with your wildest "American Dream".

My mother was perhaps a little less intense about her religious and celestial beliefs, but the moral code of generosity, selflessness, and humility were qualities that she instilled in me at a young age: “Always share your blessings, anak [my child], especially if children whom have less than you are involved in the struggle of scarcity. Money is an earthly item; a currency that you can’t really take to heaven -- or hell, for that matter.” Then she would always give a hearty laugh.

So the argument that I’m an idiot for donating a hundred dollars while I am over two hundred thousand dollars in student loans and inherited debt, simply doesn’t hold much water. Baby Justine just turned 1, and no amount of money can really replace that. Retirement? If I fail at pursuing my wildest dreams in America, I can just go home and live a modest life on a farm. Last I checked, this is every American millenial’s dream, no?

Aside from my short stint working in retail banking, I’ve mostly only worked in nonprofit organizations. Most of my philanthropic engagement through volunteer work has been mostly with children and disenfranchised communities. The most meaningful experience imprinted in my mind was working with children in the Philippines who were recovering from various drug addictions. While working with this NGO headed by an Irish priest, I translated court documents from Tagalog to English in order to help social workers build legal case files for children whom survived sexual abuse. The offenders ranged from moneyed politicians to foreigners partaking of the sex tourism trade in Asia. I worked with social workers to create community-building activities for our rescued children. We also ventured to Cebu after typhoon Haiyan to educate children on human rights, donating school supplies and providing ourselves as resources in their quest to stay in school. My favorite part of the whole experience was throwing cool parties for the kids, which then pulled me into the world of operations work and event planning.

I was part of the Operations Team at one of New York City’s largest charter school networks where most of my fulfillment was from the event planning of various activities for K-4th grade children. I then ventured into higher education working on the event planning side of development. At the dawn of COVID-19’s reign, I reevaluated my career path and resigned.

I then redirected my energy and designed a philanthropic initiative called “Operation Merienda”, where I raised a significant amount of money to feed over 200 frontline workers in various hospitals and clinics of the SOCCKSARGEN region in the Philippines.

In my spare time, I engage in various fundraising activities for my community back home. I’ve built a small team with teachers in rural areas in my hometown where we’ve been fighting the digital divide by printing school activity worksheets. For Christmas, I worked with this same group of educators and we delivered groceries to 150 households. I’ve also built, and continue to cultivate long-standing relationships with most of the caterers who’ve worked on my Operation Merienda Initiative. I design logos and help them build an online presence, free of charge. I don’t make any money out of any of my fundraising initiatives, but somehow I am the happiest I’ve been in the last three years. Serving the purpose of the common good is central to my philosophies around philanthropy. It is my dream to discover a path where I can serve the greater good in a more impactful capacity.

Student loan debts and all.