A life in 50 poems
In 2015, Therese Rodriguez helmed a book project for her St. Scholastica’s College high school batch ‘66’s golden jubilee. The result was Our Stories to Tell: 50 Years in Retrospect, a compilation of first-person essays detailing what became of each of the batch’s 92 Scholasticans following their graduation.
Nine years later, she has her own story to tell, this time in a book of poetry written through the years. Paraňaque to New York City: 50 Poems captures a decade’s worth of musings and milestones, all in free verse, of a life lived unapologetically and with purpose.
Based in New York, the writer was recently in Manila to launch her book before an intimate gathering of family and friends. Not only was it well received, with guests patiently waiting in line to have their copies signed, but representatives from the local government of Paraňaque announced that the book would be part of the city’s public library.
Beginning with The Uniform, her memory of being measured for the ruffled blouse and jumper skirt that would make her inconspicuous in an all-girls’ school, she references her early years adjusting to her new life in America (Aha, The Alphabet, Not for Primetime), President Joe Biden’s inauguration (Jazz My Blues Away, At the Reflecting Pool), and the immigrant experience (Jackson Heights, English Not Required [And It’s Okay]).
Catholic school girl, activist, immigrant, HIV/AIDS advocate: Therese Rodriguez is all these and more in her book ‘Parañaque to New York.’
Yet her heart and mind remain rooted in home. Lourdes Guanlao immortalizes the time the late writer and activist was in Manhattan to rally for the release of political prisoners. Close friends are honored in Hello, Goodbye, Prayer for Lulu and All Humanity, Meandering, and Remembering Menchit. A chance encounter in a Chinese restaurant during a visit to the Philippines in 2018 (My Birthday Song) left her beaming with pride over her family’s standing in their community.
Despite her unconventional choices in life, Therese felt nothing but love from her late mother Corazon. “When I came out to her/Only after the breakup of my lesbian relationship,” she writes in Happy Mother’s Day, “She took it upon herself to lecture my brothers, sisters, grandchildren/On Acceptance and Love.”
Convent school-bred
While the thought of writing poetry is a daunting task, to Therese, it’s as simple as scribbling random thoughts and feelings on a little notebook in the middle of a train commute. “It’s almost like you’re talking to yourself, right?” she says of her ease with the medium. “It’s almost like you’ve become aware of yourself and you just become more expressive to self. May pagka-natural that it’s not structured, and it just comes out.”
Raised by her devout Catholic mother, unmarried aunt Pitang, and maternal grandmother Eusebia, the convent school-bred Therese was active in the protest movement of the ‘70s. Parañaque, as it turned out, was one of the venues for rallies and discussion groups, and the impressionable youth opened her unassuming home to moderates and communists, much to her mother’s dismay.
Even in the US, where she was sent in July 1972 to avoid arrest in the Philippines, after then President Ferdinand Marcos Sr. declared martial law two months later, Therese gravitated to jobs that championed marginalized sectors, like immigrants and refugees.
As chief executive officer of the New York-based Apicha Community Health Center, Therese has been part of the organization since 1996, when Apicha was originally an acronym for Asian and Pacific Island Coalition on HIV/AIDS. Its mission, as stated in its website, remains the same: Established in 1989, it addresses unmet HIV/AIDS-related needs, and advocates for government and private funding streams to build a continuum of care for HIV/AIDS services, starting with prevention education and outreach of HIV primary care.
Lifetime gift
At Apicha gala events, the CEO typically ends her speeches and reports with a poem. “I wanted my speeches to be punctuated with a synthesis of how I feel about the issues that I’m arguing for,” she says.
But Apicha was only one of the many subjects of Therese’s poems. In a visit to Manila before the pandemic, she handed a loose compilation of poems to her childhood friend, PR expert Joy Buensalido. “For me to read and comment on,” says Joy. Moved by the genuine passion and vulnerability expressed by Therese in her poems, Joy offered to publish the book “as my lifetime gift, not only for her, but also for her family, our friends, and our beloved hometown of Parañaque.”
Two other friends contributed to the book’s fruition. Author Milagros de Guzman refined Therese’s verses wherever appropriate, while keeping her voice and thoughts intact. Aleli Alvarez, who held an administrative position in Apicha until she retired in 2018, provided valuable feedback as Therese’s “speech whisperer.”
“What emerges from her poetry is understanding, compassion, and most of all, an appreciation of the complexities of life in both her native Philippines and her adopted country,” wrote veteran journalist Sheila Coronel in the book’s foreword.
In a life in 50 poems, are there still some things that need to be said?
“I think that has to be written,” says Therese of her personal experiences regarding her sexual orientation. “I’ve talked about the community’s needs and issues but not the individual issue of what it means to be so sure of who you are. While it is the hardest thing to undertake, it is also the most intoxicating in terms of how you present yourself to the world, with all of your pride in who you are. So, that is such a wonderful experience to write about, not to cry about, but something to celebrate. I also realized that coming out strengthens your ability to lead because you’re not keeping anything a secret. You are real, you are transparent, and those are very important parts of what leadership is about.”
How she plans to present this most private part of her life is still up in the air—it could be written in prose, for all she knows. “But it has to be a poetic life,” she decides at last. “I love my life, actually. Even with those pains, I am enjoying life. I am in a very good place because I truly feel that I’ve been blessed, whether in pain or in abundance.”
To order a copy of Parañaque to New York: 50 Poems, contact Tina Allarey via email at [email protected] or mobile 0920-954-2980.
