It is the night of a Friday when things seemed to have gone wrong--and then right.
It is the night of that unplanned talk.
The talk is about small things and big things.
The setting is as real as life's social drama: a silent home in Corona standing watch of the proceedings of this small talk among friends who are also colleagues in the organization you have put up to advance the cause of giving space to the immigrant voice in America.
The cause was--is--also a vision.
The talk is unplanned.
Because a genuine talk among conspirators of communion and communication is beyond planning.
It is beyond planning because it is more of a demonstration of gratitude for a person giving ear to your plea of seeing things differently, opening up to other possibilities, making a clearing for other views, and holding fast to that sense and meaning in which reason can have its reason to be so, fragility and all, but a reason nevertheless with a heart and soul.
A reason that is palpable.
A reason that is plausible.
It is a conspiracy, this: the conspiracy of talkers communing, oneing, uniting, finding ways to meet somewhere to search for the possible and feasible for something grander and bigger beyond that which is mundane and everyday.
For a vision that does not know extinguishing as its fire catches fire on and on.
For a dream that does not know eradication even in those traces of memory that are left there in the mind to roost and remain afresh, blooming with force and power.
There is a lesson learned here: that anywhere we go, human relations and human relationships ground all relationships.
There is a lesson in organizing work: That anywhere you go, there are always obstacles but these obstacles do not define the vision and dream but the kind of action you do to build and rebuild.
For veritably, this immigrant organization that was home to our vision is one kind of a home that we will always remember.
It is a home we remember because it provides the framework for a new and envigorating vision, this relationship marking the beginning of a new life for an immigrant organization in the United States of America included.
We keep trying to find ways to succeed, and the trying makes sense, as always.
The night wears on and we keep on with the small and big talks, falling into a conversation as evening gathers its dark energies to give birth to an eternal dawn, luminous and light.
A. S. Agcaoili
July 7, 2006