A Matter of Choice

by Jose Don de Alban

I remember Kagawad Jose. I first met him during an environmental seminar that my team and I had been conducting in one local community in the Philippines. At the time I was still a fledgling in conservation work. We were giving a brief orientation on the importance of conserving forests and watersheds and what we could all do to restore the ever-dwindling forests of the country. During the discussions he voiced his thoughts that he did not believe that what we were trying to endeavor would be successful, that the programs we were proposing—to bring back and protect the remaining rainforests—were doomed from the beginning. While everyone else had at least shown interest or hope in the worthy ideals of the project, he did not. He was skeptical and I think he even relished in the fact that he was the only one among his neighbors who expressed those sentiments.

Weeks and months passed. We continued doing various workshops and activities towards protecting their forests and conserving biodiversity. People from the community were supportive and took ownership of the project. Most of the leaders were similarly involved. But Kagawad Jose didn’t participate despite our persistent invitations. Sometimes he’d briefly look around during the activities to see what the people were doing, and then leave; most of the time he wasn’t around. I wondered why he had thought the way he did. Maybe he had a negative experience from other development projects in the past, or probably he had already seen countless other projects try and yet had failed.

But towards the end of the program, Kagawad Jose just sat down and began to observe what was going on during one of the community discussions. Sooner or later my colleagues and I just noticed that he slowly started participating in the discussions, expressing his concerns or sharing his ideas and suggestions. From then on until the end of the project during the series of planning workshops, he was always present and got involved. We never got to ask Kagawad Jose what made him change his mind. Probably he realized that what we were doing made sense. Or maybe he saw that this time it was unlike the past projects he’d seen before that yielded only empty promises. This time, he probably thought, it’s different.

Kagawad Jose was among the first of many people from local communities whom I had encountered in  the course of doing conservation and development work who made me realize the value of perseverance and gave me a solid reason to believe in hope. We hardly thought that we would ever convince him and draw him to our cause, but he eventually crossed over with our relentless efforts. He became one living example that change can happen—that a better future for the Philippines is possible because people are willing to make it happen and that everyone can be instruments of positive change. He was actually one of those people who made me realize why I immersed myself into development work in the Philippines in the first place instead of corporate work or a career abroad, that there was fulfillment in making a positive impact in the lives of people, that there was hope in encouraging Filipinos to take up the cause of consciously making a better future for the country.

It’s been years since I last saw Kagawad Jose. I’ve grown and have learned much in the course of doing conservation and development work in the country. I wouldn’t say I am as seasoned as my peers and colleagues, but I’ve been around the country and have seen enough to accept that my idealistic views have somewhat been brought much closer to the ground. Development work isn’t a pretty walk through the park after all; it’s a struggle. It’s daunting, to say the least.

I’ve said before that in this country, development work is adversely affected in general by patronage politics; hostilities due to opposing ideologies; an ever pervasive and prevalent dole-out mindset; or simply grinding poverty such that any chance for people to look at better options are stifled because all their efforts are put into just meeting their basic needs, and they couldn’t go further without external help. The list goes on. Small gains from past programs may even have been already eroded by these.

There are times that I feel that the path leading to a better Philippines is dark, steep, and bleak, and there’s just as much as a pinprick of light to be found at the end (especially in the country where it seems there’s an endless streak of one bad news after another). I had thought of throwing my hands up in the air in resignation and just give up. I fear I could be doing so many related and worthwhile things but still not make any real and concrete impact. Oftentimes my own personal needs are all too glaring that I’d want to forget about the country and just focus on myself, or maybe migrate to another country and find a more lucrative career elsewhere.

That’s exactly how I feel now. And I guess writing this article is also timely for me to introspect, if not reflect again, on my purpose and on what I can and should do to make a positive impact in changing the country for the better.

I remembered Kagawad Jose while I was writing this. Only this time I chose to remember him. I remembered that through people like him, I realized doing development work can be immensely gratifying, despite the odds, particularly when helping communities learn to be independent or self-sufficient, or when helping them find their own path and definition to their own development; fulfillment was even in experiencing solace or a natural high in nature’s embrace. It’s a matter of knowing I was part of making things happen even if I may not see the fruits in my lifetime. But needless to romanticize, I know that to transform the Philippines into a better country one need not solely be in development work. One can contribute to making positive changes, no matter how small or great, and in wherever and whatever situation one is in. For Kagawad Jose, maybe he just decided to do his part in effecting change. His story tells me that I shouldn’t give up aspiring to see positive changes in the country, and that there is hope if I persevere. Change for a better Philippines can happen and everyone can be an instrument of that change if they choose to be.