I grew up apolitical. It wasn’t until around 19 years old when I left the JWs that I began thinking about the possibility of having a political position. And even then it felt weird. Being an outsider stays with you. I was skeptical about politics even after I left my religion. I identified with the Left and joined a political party during my last year and a half at UPB. I voted only once. I want to dedicate the large portion of my life within.
Confession: anarchism appealed to me so much that for a short time I even felt like I approved of anarcho-capitalism. I no longer believe in this perspective.
Being a writer in the Philippines means that if you don’t have a political position—if you are apolitical—you are scorned. I responded with this challenge by allowing myself to read widely, listen and befriend fellow writers with strong political positions. For example, writing literature/so we must meet apart with Jesa Suganob was personally tough because I had to dialogue with someone adept with her political views.
Here is what I now know. Politics is simply a long answer to the age-old question: How should we relate to each other? A writer must never resist this question, especially one who identifies as a religious writer. Like in all things in my writing and religious life, I think that authenticity must be the primary goal in answering the question above. I must be honest to where I am right now in my politics. I must recognize the history that brought me here. If I want to change, which I do, and my direction is kiitsu, returning to my neighbor, community, cosmos, and the Great Life, I must do all the changes while taking account of my raw materials. I must not pretend that I’m a socialist or a communist when I’m not.