For the people it is

My greatest fear in life is to be forgotten.

But for a nobody who could not even reach the National Schools Press Conference, it is profoundly ambitious if not absurd. It felt pathetic that I lost my last bid at the NSPC after finishing a regional stint in 2024. For someone who has been a campus journalist for 7 years at that time, I felt shattered and I spent an entire day crying that prompted me to skip a family trip to La Union. 

Not to mention I was a victim of cyberbullying days after my senior high school graduation where I attained the With Highest Honors distinction – but was stripped off its pride as the post eroded in social media overnight. It led me to a melancholic state that I thought I could not escape. I lost everything I worked hard for in 2 years as the world deemed to turn its back on me. 

It was my wake up call that awards will fade. For me, sooner than I could even internalize them. Then on a random day, our founder and then-editor-in-chief Archie Bergosa decided to send me to Rappler’s headquarters while I was only hardly a month in Explained PH as a news volunteer. He told me he wanted me to meet Maria Ressa. 

Scared and at the lowest point in my life, I represented the organization in a forum that changed me forever. 

That day saved me from the depths of pain I thought I could not overcome. Since then, I have decided to dedicate my life into writing and reviving Explained PH’s news desk that eventually became the first editorial role I handled. Until I continued showing up – without even being ready – and became the Senior Desk Editor shortly after. Before I knew it, I became the Managing Editor in the span of roughly 2 years in the organization. 

Promotions came like opportunities that had always been meant for me. I personally believe that when things excite me more than it scares me, it is the right thing to do. But if campus journalists would ask me why I do all these sacrifices – it is not because of the title nor popularity. 

It is because I am living my mother’s dream of being a journalist that she had to give up just to raise me.  Not because she forced me to – but because letters served as my lifeline and writing saved me from the void of being raised in a broken family. Writing completed me. And that is what fueled my burning desire to serve. I wanted to write not just for myself, but for the people around me. I had always yearned for my words to yield power to change their perspective. 

To move hearts. To awaken minds. To revive the fate in humanity that is slowly corrupted everyday.

However, that little spark to serve in me enraged like wildfire that made me answer the gigantic call for leadership of being the second editor-in-chief of Explained PH. A role that until now, that girl who used to be nobody cannot believe she is living everyday. Contrary from what people see, it is not a badge of honor. It is a commitment that demands sacrifice and compromises—some of which alter my very identity.

Now, for someone navigating editorial challenges of a nationwide scale, emotions are something I ‘must’ shrug off. I don’t have the privilege to pause and sit with it. But ironically, the more I try to be a heartless leader, the more I stray away from my vision. Turns out it is a leadership challenge – rather than a hindrance, as it connects me with our people. 

Amidst the grand scheme of things, I don’t want to see them as output quotas, engagement data, content reach performance or number of social media reactions. I want to see them as wondrous humans – with struggles, stories and depth that I am willing to explore to be a wiser EIC. Because the heart of journalism, after all, is and will always revolve about the complexities of humanity.  

All along, I knew I was leading an organization of almost 500 people. I will also be leading our Facebook community, Speak Up with almost 150,000 members. Yet, I never witnessed its scale because everything I have been doing in the organization is mostly online. Thanks to JournQuest, our first face-to-face campus journalism caravan, I experienced what it truly means to be a leader in its most genuine form.

In our Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao legs I shared my lecture on Community Journalism to launch the programs. I may have delivered it seamlessly, but before my first public appearance at the EIC was weeks of getting beaten up by the idea that I might not be as inspiring as the leaders who had come before me.  But with hundreds of campus journalists who listened with hopes to learn a thing or two from me, my heart was overwhelmed with joy that it swept away all the voices in my head. 

At those stages in the schools who trusted our vision, and in the fleeting moments of laughter with my fellow campus journalists, I felt the most alive. What a surreal thing it is for someone who had always clapped for others to be asked for an interview, a photo and even an autograph – because I used to be that campus journalist who had aspirations. And now, I still cannot comprehend what I did to ever deserve all this love and support that it feels like a wild dream. 

Speaking of my support system, my executive board was the epitome of friendship throughout 10 days of travelling from one city to another. Finally, there are people who see my worth beyond productivity. 

Prashanti motivated me to lead while holding space for the girly-girl I am; Daiven did not judge me for crying like most men I am surrounded with; Margie has been a firm believer I can get things done despite fear; Bea looked up to me like an older sister she could always count on, and Zea made me realize that I don’t have to be anyone – but myself – as I answer this paramount call for leadership. The friendship we shared will live on, the same way our tours across the country have been immortalized through photographs.

When I was young, I often wondered what lay beyond the horizon. Today, it brings me so much joy to recall the memories I made with our bureaus in Manila, Cebu, and Davao. Places far away from my home in Quezon City. 

Our bureau chiefs, Alleah and Yazmine have generously introduced me to their cities — as though they have always been mine, too. The sight of our staffers and volunteers across the country had me on pauses. I knew that those moments with them were rare, valuable, and something I would cherish forever. And certainly, they deserve all the credit for making JournQuest happen. Together with our partner divisions, publications, and schools in every city, too.

This is why JournQuest made everything make sense. Why I had to lose my 3 year relationship; why I almost received an INC rating from my midyear courses; why I stopped being a TikTok content creator; why I had to sacrifice my social life; why I need to lose every ounce of individuality I have. Perhaps, the purpose of my being lies within the people, and is for the people. 

It gives me chills that the greatest fulfillment being written for me – after all – is not in my small hometown bubble. It’s written across skies, seas, mountains and through every leap of faith that led me here. And if I need to be selfless everyday to build a shared future bigger than myself, I would bleed a thousand times for the campus journalists writing history beside me. 

Because I did not accomplish all of these alone. 

I am here because of every alumni who had built – and had not given up on Explained PH during the days when nobody believed that students with too much passion can make paramount difference. I may not know some of them now, but they have my utmost respect for pouring their hearts into our cause amidst the absence of certainty. I hope that whenever they visit our Facebook page or website, there is relief and fulfillment in knowing that this passion project they had started as teenagers is in safe hands. 

If there is someone I owe everything to, it would be our founder and former editor-in-chief, and my kuya Archie Bergosa. He believed in me when I had nothing, and he trusted me enough to bear everything. I acquired many of my first times in life – including my first flight to Iloilo and my first tour across Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao. I have looked up to this position for as long as I can remember, and taking it on has been—and will certainly remain—the greatest honor of my life.

And above all, apart from God, I can do nothing.

After meeting hundreds of campus journalists across the country, I hope I become unforgettable. 

Not because of the accolades I have or the title I bear – but because I get to inspire them that they can be someone bigger than themselves. 

Bigger than the fear, anxiety, family problems, insecurities or every mistake they cannot forgive themselves for yet. And if you are a campus journalist reading this, I see you. Being the EIC of the biggest youth-led organization in the Philippines does not excuse me from the struggles a 20-year-old is facing. It is just that, I think of all the young writers I can inspire by overcoming all these battles while leading the internal and external operations of the organization. 

And I hope that in the future, when my term ends and all the applause fades, I am able to leave a mark to these young dreamers who choose to write beyond competition. I hope that I am making an impact to the scribes who share my hope of saving the country from injustices and peril.

As we stand as vanguards of truth, the challenge is how far are we willing to go just for our questions to be answered? Just like my favorite song, Generation Why by Conan Gray, we should be asking ‘Why?’ because the moment we stop asking questions is the moment our pens run dry.