Jessmellena

Four years, maybe even five if you’re a transfer student; that’s approximately 1,350 days (give or take a few days). A painstakingly long time when you’re navigating through the years. Unbearably long, until you’re only a few days, a few finals away from closing the end of one of the most critical chapters in your life. Although stressful, challenging, and a downright exhausting time, it is also one of the most rewarding. I’ve spent countless hours complaining about tedious assignments, difficult classes, evil professors, messy roommates, crappy dining hall food, and loads of laundry. Yet here I am, 22 years old, about to graduate college realizing only now that all of this has been the easy part. A real challenge is beginning anew.

I think graduating college has both a bitter and a sweet connotation when I think about it. Graduation is the end of a new beginning, for some, graduating college means the last day of ever stepping foot on a college campus or taking classes on courses you may not have been interested in. The last time you’ll have to stress about cumulative finals or term papers. That’s the sweet part, the end. The bitterness comes later in the form of adulthood and the uncertainty of adjusting to it, the beginning of another chapter.

When I first left home, 3 years back I wasn’t sure what I would get in return. I had set my sights on a new adventure, it had been the first time I had felt excited and hopeful of the unknown. Moving to Hawaii was the first time I experienced living on my own, so like most probably are, I was equally as eager as I was fearful of this new reality. Regardless, I took advantage of my new-found freedom where I could set my own rules. Like most journeys, however, there were struggles. I was a transfer student who expected to graduate within two years, but three months in the semester my counselor informed me I couldn’t graduate in less than three. At the time, I remember being devastated at the thought of prolonging my journey for the degree I wanted so badly. I remember thinking that it was the worst possible thing that could have happened to me. But as Steve Jobs once said, “you can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backward, so you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future.” Two years after receiving this news, I couldn’t imagine graduating any earlier because if I had I probably would have never met some of the most prominent people in my life today nor would I have made some of the memories I cherish the most. Of course, it was frustratingly unclear looking forward how an entire year would make all the difference, but it is as clear as a crystal looking back today.

So, class of 2018, reflect on your past, acknowledge the present, and believe in your future as you go forward after graduation. Ask yourself, “how did I get here?” and more importantly think about “what” you did to get to where you are now. Recognize your perseverance through the toughest moments and heartbreaking decisions.The little steps you took, the leaps you traded comfort for and the hurdles you overcame lead you to where you are. And always remember that straying off the path you planned for is not the end of the world. Learn as you go and remember that the doubts and apprehensions you feel right now moving forward into adulthood, you have experienced before, yet look at today and how far you’ve come.

Congratulate yourself for embarking on this journey in the first place because not everyone does. This is yet another MILESTONE in YOUR life. Don’t go out there trying to connect the dots as you go, trust in yourself and most importantly trust that you’ll look back later and be thankful for it. BELIEVE you’ll get there and YOU WILL.

Each of us is a “once-in-a-lifetime, unique person” with a personal past, present, and future. There are countless ways we can contribute to the lives of those who cross our path, as well as those who we may never meet. When we share the gift of our time, love, knowledge and compassion with others we give them a piece of ourselves, but we still have it to share again. One way to share your life with others is to be an encourager. Whenever possible, share a kind word, a friendly smile, an open hand or an understanding heart. Let down your walls that separate you from the spontaneity of life. – Tim Conner

I think we have all been asked the question, “who inspires you?” and most of us, almost always answer with a famous name, someone who either has written a book or has a book written about them. We rarely answer with the name of someone we know. To inspire someone is to fill them with the urge or ability to do or feel something, especially to do something creative. Tim Conner’s right, we all have something to contribute to the world and everyone in it. Whether we choose to or not, we are constantly influencing and inspiring others. Whether you’re Kim Kardashian posting pictures of your life on Instagram or you’re the president of the United States constantly posting an excerpt of 140 characters on Twitter; you’re actively influencing change and provoking people to think and do certain things.

This summer I chose to stay on the island of Hawaii (if you don’t know me, I go to school on Oahu) to take a few summer classes to relieve the stress of taking too many credits during my last two semesters in business school. After accidentally missing the first day of class I met one of the most intimidating professors I have ever had, Dr. S. Vincent Shin. A veteran paratrooper of the U.S. Army and a person who holds himself in very high esteem stood in front of a class of aspiring business students and demanded attention. Not the kind of attention that tempted your eyes to roll, the kind of attention you wanted to give someone who deserves it. After being scared of him the first couple days of class, I began to develop deep respect and admiration for him. Dr. Shin’s lectures consisted of information about global management coupled with personal life experiences and life lesson’s he wanted to instill in all of the students he taught. During the first day of class, we were placed into our groups we would be creating our final projects with, my group members respected him just as much as I did but complained about how his lectures were not based on the book and what our exams would consist of. To a certain degree, I agreed with them because we rarely took notes on the information in our text book in the 4 hours we had with him, but I wasn’t complaining. Every day he challenged us with questions he didn’t want us to answer but instead think about. Questions that provoked deep thinking about who we were in terms of the society we lived in. He asked us every day about our strengths and weaknesses, always reminding us that our strengths could always be strengthed and our weaknesses too, could be converted to be an asset.

Dr. Shin taught me to be confident and to have faith in myself. One day he asked me how much money I wanted to make, after thoughtfully thinking about it, I responded with “I want to make enough to live comfortably; with little financial worries.” I thought I had offered a good answer to his question, but he responded with “give me an exact number,” I quickly said, “okay, $80,000.” He said, “No, I want you to make  millions.” At first, I thought he was a crazy man for encouraging his students to wishfully think we could all be successful enough to be millionaires, but then it dawned on me that it was his way of saying, ” here is how much confidence I have in you and this is how much faith you should have in yourselves to achieve whatever it is you want in life.” Dr. Shin emphasized the potential we had as young movers and shakers, he always said, regardless of our lack of experience and financially unstable lives as college students pursuing degrees and acquiring debt every day we step foot on campus.

We all have the power to influence, that’s not saying all forms of influence has a positive connotation or impact in your life or collectively as a society of people constantly dreaming of a better life and endeavoring to help the world. As we have experienced ourselves or seen on the media, influence can bring equally negative outcomes and bring about people that don’t necessarily do or think in an ethical manner. An inspirational person to me is someone who stimulates a feeling of total confidence in another, someone who fortifies another’s abilities, and someone who provides that push we all need in order to impact our own life and hopefully others along the way.

Dr. Vincent Shin inspired me to set my goals high and aim for the moon, just when I thought I could only reach the stars. Who inspires you?

Thank you, Dr. Shin, for being the mentor that you are to your students. 

For most of my life growing up, I was part of a small community made up of a demographic that consisted of mostly Caucasians; different from the “melting pot” that is collectively what America is today. Coming from a developing country like the Philippines transitioning into such a different environment of people with distinct cultural differences from mine, at the young age of 7; it was a seemingly easy change for the reason that I had nothing to compare the new environment I had been placed into except for the old one I was lucky enough to escape from. This lack of knowledge that there were more diverse locations, lead me to unconsciously, but instantaneously adapt to the culture of the people that now surrounded me every day.

I was enrolled in predominantly white schools with only a select few sorts of ethnicities, so naturally; my personality, mannerisms, preferences are products of the environment I was placed to grow in. As I navigated my way through school, all my friends were Caucasians and I was usually the only Asian in all my classes and that’s not saying I was the only Asian, but it shows how little diversity there was in the schools I attended. Nonetheless, my being Asian did not go unnoticed, I was always emphasized as everyone’s “little Asian” friend. I was teased for not being your typical Asian because I wasn’t a prodigy in math or an antisocial individual that only cared about the grades they got in school (just your, ya know, typical Asian stereotypes). When I did do something “Asian-esque,” I would get “Oh, you’re such an Asian.” I didn’t acknowledge these stereotypes because even though I wasn’t a prodigy, I wasn’t bad at school. I took my education seriously but not in the manner I guess I am supposed to as an Asian in America.

It wasn’t until I left for college when I started to be constantly reminded that part of my identity being a native of the Philippines was inherently suppressed due to my adaptation to the norms of the environment that molded my being. I chose to attend the University of Hawaii at Manoa, a school ranked to be on the ‘more diverse’ end of the ethnic diversity spectrum, with Asian being the dominant race on campus. At first glance, I thought “wow I’m finally a part of the majority,” but after interacting with people of the same and different ethnic backgrounds, I realized fitting in whether you’re a part of said group is skin deep.

I found myself acquiring friends that come from a variety of backgrounds and a mix of different ethnicities. For the first time in my 15 years in America, I had friends that weren’t just white, they were Latino, Filipino, Chinese, etc. I even learned a new word,”Hapa,” meaning a person of half white and half Asian descent. It sounds silly to acknowledge, I know, but it’s significant because of how different I grew up. Even though I had gained new friends who had shared interests and ethnicity, I was still stereotyped the way I had been during high school; except this time my friends teased me for being “white-washed,” here’s the Urban Dictionary definition if you don’t already know:

A derogatory term used to describe a minority who has assimilated with western society. The “White washed” person does not necessarily abandon his/her own culture but rather embrace others beside his/her own. Some people take it as a compliment while others take it as an insult.

Yup. That’s me, I guess I’m white washed because I’m the least Asian of all the Asians my friends have known.

During one of my first dates in Hawai’i, for example, my date took me to a Korean BBQ restaurant, I remember being so lost while scanning the menu for what I wanted. Again, it sounds silly but even though that first date didn’t lead to anything but the only date, he reminded me months down the road of how he remembered me as the girl who answered “American food, like ham burgers, hot dogs, and pizza” when he asked about my favorite food. Thinking back at all my failed dates, I can’t help but realize how non-asian I probably seem because no, my favorite food probably isn’t sushi, Korean bbq, nor is it any of the Filipino dishes I can name.

The significance of my first date goes beyond my preference or lack there of in Asian cuisine, it’s also for my preference in men. For years, I had only dated and geared my attraction to white men, so coming to a college with very few Caucasians roaming campus grounds, it was difficult to find anyone that attracted me. After being told I had a “type,” I realized I did, in fact, have a type and that was white. I never acknowledged that the lack of attraction I had for other ethnicities wasn’t because they weren’t attractive, my type developed because I was exposed to only a select few of other ethnicities and when I say a select few I mean close to zero. I grew up having a white father and going to family reunions that consisted of a white family. It was inevitable that I would later prefer my significant other to be the same way, right? I can’t help but think that maybe that’s why the first date became my only date with the Latin suitor ( or was it because he really wasn’t that attractive..?) who knows!

My two years in college has been an all-around learning experience, academically and socially. I learned a lot about myself. Before coming to the realization that I am not the stereotype that people see me as at first glance, I thought I was living a completely normal life; that my preferences, mannerisms, way of thinking were just me being me. My normal self regardless of my brown skin. Even though that is true to a certain extent, people are ultimately products of where they’re placed. My mom never encouraged me to keep my fluency in Tagalog because we lived in a place where the closest contact with another native speaking Filipino was a town over. But, I’ve learned that just because I diverge from the norms of my ethnicity or can’t fluently speak the language, it doesn’t make me any less of a Filipino or Asian because I am.

I don’t want to be a label, put in a box, or told how I’m supposed to be because of how I look. I love the town I grew up in and I have the same admiration for the friends I grew up with in high school as I do with the friends I have now in college. My food preferences have expanded not because I realized I’m White washed BUT because instead of living in a small town, I live in a city with a plethora of ethnic restaurants. My preferences in the men I date have broadened, not because I SHOULD, but because I have been acquainted with and therefore, more accustomed to different ethnicities.

My race does not define who I am or where I’m from and neither does yours.

It’s a treacherous thing to love the thought of desirable outcomes more than reality.  It’s a strange concept being captivated by the idea of the unknown, isn’t it? These ideas make us happy because the implications of reality don’t come in our idea of how things should or hope to be. The vulnerability is inevitable when you believe in something so deeply you lose sight of reality. As most of us have learned, believing doesn’t always mean that’s how things and people are or going to be. Our human desires are fueled by hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe dreams and the reality of people and situations can coexist or be the same. Here’s the tragedy I’ve come to know, exerting all of your energy in just your hope for something only makes it easier for not only yourself but also things and others to let you down.

This seemingly negative realization about our tendency to believe and hope can also harm us came to me while scaling the forbidden Stairway to Heaven. The trek up the mountain started with my tired body and heavy eyes still focused on a comfortable bed. Still, however, I found myself sliding under fences and obtaining a substantial amount of mud before even reaching the trailhead. A wake-up call from a few falls later, I took my first step of the 4000 steps that made up the steel staircase trail for the hike. The excitement I felt from just stepping one foot on the first staircase was a familiar feeling I’ve had before. Being freshly out of a relationship, this long-awaited hike was symbolic of my most recent heartbreak, not in a way you’d think it would be. It represented the uphill battle of coming to a point where it was easy to let go. Letting go of someone you placed on a pedestal. I say the word “easy” very lightly because it wasn’t easy, at all.

Immediately after only a few steps, I remember looking back as I held on to the hand railings of the staircase. I saw a silent view of the winedy highway and the panoramic view of only streetlights in the distance. At that moment, I felt myself become engulfed in fear. Fearful of every possible WORSE case scenario more than likely to happen if I wasn’t careful. All of which ended with the same outcome, my death. With my brain running over all the possible outcomes and likelihood of each incident, my knees started to buckle, my palms started to sweat, and my fear had full control of my thoughts. I looked forward and looked back several times, at that moment contemplating whether I should go back to the ground or move forward to the top. After minutes of being fearful of the unknown, the ideas in my head came to a sudden halt when I realized I had all of the power to move forward with (extreme caution) to reach the top, so I did. I came back to reality without the fears and doubts that I had created for the situation. Holding the complete power of not only my emotions but also my actions mimicked what I had experienced during the process of ending my relationship the week before. I was fearful of letting go because I had created situations in my head instead of focusing on the reality of the situation in my relationship and I was holding on to unrealistic ideas that gave me hope for change. Change that I knew deep in my heart was almost unachievable.

As I scaled further and further up the mountain the fog that introduced the early morning rolled in. I embraced the chill it brought with it as I watched the world slowly light up. I kept looking back at how far I had come and the view that came with moving forward. I realized that was how I had felt after finally letting go of the idea of someone, or that person with me. In that instance, I felt excited about taking this hike step by step. Similar to what I was doing in my daily routine after losing someone who was once the center of my universe. This gave my tired body the energy to convince my mind that my legs could move a little faster and my strength could be a bit stronger. I felt the wind’s cold nature cover my skin in goosebumps as I got closer to the top. I loved every minute of that feeling because it meant I was that much closer to reaching the top.

Two hours and almost 4000 steps left behind, I had finally reached the pillbox situated at the top of Stairway. It had been the coldest I had ever felt in my time here in Hawaii, but it was also the most breathtakingly beautiful sight I had seen as I watched the sun rise and the fog roll away. It was a satisfying moment accomplishing something I had been wanting to do for a long time.

Author Tim Conner

Today my professor sent us this article that lists 12 principles to live by, I encourage YOU to live by these principles as well as I am trying to do myself.

Have you ever thought about fear? I mean really just thought about. Not just the definition of the word, but the actual meaning YOU have for it or give it. The fear that takes over your mind. The thing that stops you from experiencing and making giant leaps? This is mine.

Fear.

It can do so much to a person. They say there’s nothing to fear but fear itself…they..they are right. Fear can stop you from doing things you should. It holds you down, without even making a sound. It whisper’s all the wrong things in your ear. It tells you that you’re not good enough. It says you won’t find anything better and that there’s always going to be better than you.

It tricks you, it convinces you, it traps you in a mental state of negativity.

You believe every bit of devilish help it engraves in your mind simply because it’s there. You sit in an empty space in your head. Four walls. Perfect little squares. With you in the corner… wondering why. Just why you’re there. The only thing there is fear. The horrific body of fear telling you that you’re supposed to be there and there’s no way out. No doors, just white simple walls. Stone cold walls you can’t break down. Walls much too cold to touch.

Before you even bat an eye, fear, turns into insecurities. It’s not just something to be afraid of, its who you are. It’s not just you fearing you can’t do something, all of sudden it’s you knowing you can’t.

Fear, it makes up senseless truths. It makes you paper thin. It makes everything you want to discover as meaningless as a blank piece of paper. People become paper. Your thoughts and opinions become as empty as words can be without the actions that go along with them.

The unknown becomes forever…unknown.

Fear – chaos in your mind…

Life and Death-two completely different concepts with meanings at separate ends of the spectrum.

This morning I received news that one of my loved ones had passed away last night, June 8th. I had never known anyone close to me that has so it left me stunned and heart broken. Stunned, because I couldn’t believe it. Even though I know that no one can live forever and I have known people that have died in the past, it’s completely different when you’ve personally known and have made memories with that person. Heart broken because he was a friend, great grandfather, grandfather, an uncle, brother, father, and husband. He had people who adored him and family who loved him more than the world. He left them all behind.

I don’t think death is scary for any person dying, I think the scary part is the thought of what’s going to happen to the people we’re leaving behind because ultimately death, death is the easy part.

I don’t or haven’t really thought about death too much, I mean who really wants to? But I got to thinking after today, when IS the right time to die. That is probably one of the most ignorant questions I could ever ask myself, but as I thought about it more and more, maybe, there really isn’t a defined answer for it. Is there?

No one wants to die, ultimately, we all want to live forever. But since no one has ever surpassed time or discovered a magic serum that could create ever lasting youth, instead,  we all aim to just LIVE, to live life to the fullest.

The French have a saying, carpe diem, meaning to seis the day; to live life to the fullest with little thought about the future. This has always been one of my favorite phrases. Over the year’s I’ve attached many different meanings behind it. When I was in high school, it meant that “I should do this or I should do that” because I needed an excuse to get myself to do something out of my element. As I got a little older, the phrase started to speak some truth; it started to dawn on me that, WOW, life really does go by. Way too fast.

If someone’s death teaches you anything, its that YOU ARE ALIVE. Obvious, I know, but true. It teaches you that life is undoubtedly short and that the only way to make leaving this beautiful Earth worth it in the end is to make the most out of the time you have on it.

My uncle lived a full life. What constitutes a fully lived life? Well… I think the people that spark the warmth in our hearts and the things that reveal the passion hidden in our souls are the things that make life and everything that comes with it worth while. For my uncle, the family he created sparked that warmth and passion in his life. He lived a full life because he experienced decades of unconditional love with the women of his dreams. He raised three beautiful children of his own who he watched grow up to have kids of their own. He even met the children of his children’s children, which is something most people don’t get a chance to do because, again, LIFE IS SHORT. Seeing his family grow while also seeing the world change and creating memories with all of the lives he created was a life filled with unfathomable love and happiness. What more could a person ask for.

After reflecting on his life and the family he had created during the life he lived. I aim to live life to the fullest by loving my family and creating one of my own someday, starting by growing my own unconditional, forever lasting love with someone. Because even though we all have to pass on someday, what never will is the love we give.The love you give to the people you share your time with and the love that you have for the things that you do; the things that you’re passionate about, are the legacies you’ll leave behind.

So go out there and live. Don’t just breathe. Live for the moments that take your breath away; climb the biggest & tallest mountains and love someone so much it hurts. Live for the moments that make you feel alive and BE with the people that make you want to live.

Share your passion, be compassionate, and give.

June 9th. The day I added a new meaning to C A R P E D I E M. 

RIP Uncle Lloyd 

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The word destiny is defined as, the hidden power believed to control what will happen in the future; fate. Destiny has always been a far-fetched concept to me because I mean, the decisions we make every day, big or small, has something to do with how our life is shaped. So technically, doesn’t that mean we’re in control of our own life story?  Or maybe these desicions are the roads that eventually lead us to a destination we’re supposed to come to. That maybe our decisions are a part of our destiny.

It is crazy to think that maybe, everything that happens in our everyday lives, the good, the great, the bad, and the terrible were all meant to happen. Even though we have control of every decision we make, we were meant to make them. Even when we regret making certain decisions because they didn’t get us to where we wanted to be in the end, they were meant to happen because it’s “all part of a plan.” I think about destiny, the concept that our lives have a set outline of how our life story is supposed to be, every time I reflect on my own life and the decisions that have been made by not only myself but also those around me.

As I reflect on how my life is today, it is astonishing to realize that maybe everything that has happened, every desicion that has been made in the past was paved to get me here and it all started the day I was born. I was born and raised in the country of the Philippines by a single mother for the first seven years of my life because my biological father had left her even before I was born. To some, the heartbreaking decision made by my biological father that occurred so early on in my life may be considered to be an unfortunate event, but I consider it the first of the many decisions that have turned into a blessing. Why, because I couldn’t imagine how my life would have panned out if my biological father had chosen to stay. During the first few years of my life, I saw my mom work tirelessly to keep a roof over my head and food in my mouth. Working overseas in the country of Cyprus as a housekeeper was one of the ways she made that possible. The decision to leave me for Cyprus was probably one of the hardest, but she knew it was the right one that would benefit our lives in the end. During her time there she kept in contact with me and her Aunt who lived in the state of Washington. Why was the decision to keep in contact with my great aunt so important to my story? Well because if my mom hadn’t she would have never met the man who would not only change her life, but also mine. My great aunt lived next door to a divorced man who was one of the hardest workers she knew, so she had to try to play matchmaker and introduce them. You might be thinking, how did that work? How could it when they would have had to endure over 6000 miles of a long-distance relationship. But they made the decisions to try and somehow, it all worked out. They sent letters, pictures, and gave each other occasional phone calls to keep in touch in the hopes that they would learn about each other without any actual physical contact like most “normal” relationships these days. The decision they made to try this seemingly star-crossed lovers story was one of the most momentous decisions they made even though they didn’t know it yet.

A few years later, the sender behind all of the incoming letters, pictures, and phone calls to my mother, decided he wanted to marry the women in the photos and personality behind the letters. This was not a simple decision, for two important reasons. One being that my mom had a child back in the Phillippines and the biggest was the fact that we were in the Phillippines and he in Washington, but in the end, I guess, love really does prevail. Or was it all part of our destiny? After overcoming months of paper work, multiple doctor visits (for various shots), and for my dad, getting a house ready for two more residents. Completing these obstacles led my mom and I to take off on an eigteen-hour flight to Seattle, Washington. The journey that maybe I was destined to make all along.

All of the decisions made by my mother and father in the past has undoubtedly shaped how my life is today, but was it all meant to happen? I don’t know, but I can’t help but to feel so lucky for all of their decisions.

As humans we make decisions every day, some can be easy to make and some are one of the hardest ones we’re ever going to make. I have come to realize that we really have no idea how good or how bad the outcomes of these desicions really are because sometimes we may think it was an all around terrible decision right off the bat, most often than not, we learn to realize that if we hadn’t made that “terrible decision” we may not be where we are today.

Isn’t it completely mind-boggling how our decisions as individuals will not only affect our own life, but also the people around us? AND their decisions will too! Although there have been decisions made in my life that have affected me directly and have made me wonder whether there is some truth in the vague concept of destiny, I still question whether our decisions go hand in hand with our destiny. Is it part of our fate or are they just decisions.

What do you think?