“In praise of the ‘abogading’”
COTABATO CITY – I’m trying to learn the administrative nuances of the newly created Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao, and I’m finding out there is so much I do not know. I’m also determined to find out whether my safety apprehensions about coming here even have basis at all. We’re based in the city but yesterday we traveled a few hours to areas around the river basin. Adapting to disasters is real, whatever your landscape or location is.
This is for a case study I’ve been engaged to write for a group of NGOs.
One could say it’s the gig economy in action, but the sideline – also known as “labada,” or side hustle, or among the generation before mine, “abogading” – has always been an option for writers who have decided to make a living out of the word.
It’s not a luxurious living, to be sure. I lived for 16 years on a newspaper’s salary, and because I had serious financial responsibilities as a parent, I always had to find additional means to augment that income – provided, of course, that said side hustle did not compromise my main job in terms of time, priority, or potential conflict. The writing and editing opportunities were many, and if you did a respectable job and did not burn your bridges, repeats and referrals went a long way. They still are many, and they still do go a long way. Ultimately, word of mouth is one’s ally, and one’s work is the best ambassador.
And so it came to be that at any given time I was able to work on a great range of projects – books, reports, and case studies, among others. There are corporate projects but a company’s posh conference rooms hardly tell us who the company is. So while it is always good to talk to top executives, it is equally, if not more, engaging to talk to people on the ground. There is much to learn from CEOs, and talking to the privileged gives me a peek into their interesting world – I’ve spoken with collectors whose homes look like museums. But my favorites are the simple folk who are even bashful at first to tell their story, like they were in disbelief that someone would like to hear their voice. I’ve been in the company of embalmers, coffin makers, calamity victims, community leaders, among others.
(Gay Talese, in the book “Telling True Stories,” said: “I wanted to spend more time with the people who were not necessarily newsworthy. I believed then – and I believe now even more – that the role of the nonfiction writer should be with private people whose lives represent a larger significance.”)
This need for side hustles has not changed even when I’ve gone into full-time teaching, even with its dash of administrative work. These days at least, now that the semester is winding down, students are given time to do their own field work for their respective assignments. My previous main job at the paper has taken a backseat, but I find that it is important – no, essential – to do journalism while teaching journalism.
And then, in my exhaustion, I struggle to free up a few minutes to write something I am not supposed to/ paid to submit. This writing that I don’t have to do, I always do with joy and fulfillment, and not without a little guilt.
The result of having these side gigs while trying to do well in the main one is apparent to everyone around me. One is always busy, during office hours and outside office hours. The fact that one is a night owl is a happy coincidence. There seems to be no respite. Work-life balance is evasive, unless one puts one’s foot down and deliberately disconnects and sets a no-work day. Or hour/s.
Sometimes I envy people who go to one office, clock in, work the whole day, and then come home. Their evenings and weekends are free. The boundaries are clear. Their mind is singularly set on that one job, and they don’t think of anything else they should be doing while they are already doing something in the first place.
Surprise, surprise. I would not have it any other way. To have all these opportunities to practice different forms of writing, to meet a great variety of people, be privy to the most intimate, fascinating stories, not to mention earn an honest living – is grace. It’s never easy, but it’s a full life I’m leading.
In the end I am always grateful, because not everybody gets the chance to make a living out of something that keeps them alive. adellechua@gmail.com