I never saw a Filipino painting. Never heard of any celebrity from the area other than a boxer. Never watched Tagalog on anything other than subtitles on pirated DVDs in Pakistan. I was not raised a Pinoy. Did not even know what that was. But through a performance in a small room that contained about 100 audience members sitting on foldable chairs, I saw one such piece of art come to life. Through Raised Pinay, I don’t know the spectrum of Filipino sentiment. But I now know fourteen more Filipino stories.
It goes without saying, but the news coming out of Karachi this week has been disheartening. Across the globe, the Pakistani people–being judged on individual merit is a luxury less affluent nations cannot afford–had to face charges of incompetence, corruption, and the worst ill to ever befall a society: apathy. But amidst all the despair, there was a story we didn’t hear: the story of a true mentor, who taught his pupils the greatest lesson of all.