T'ira, Tira (Shot, Live)

Intricately woven into the way we thrive today are the threads of our childhood.

My heart hung like a pendulum, swinging back and forth as I tried to find my footing in this new country, longing for a sense of familiarity.

The harmonious wholeness of the village that raised me became fragments of memory I began to piece together, each one carrying gratitude for my roots.

As a new immigrant nine years ago, I sat with ambivalence longer than I expected. Every exploration of this red soil was met with constant comparison , appreciative for a while, but longing for home.

Settling here, I remember a flood of longing would often hit me at sunset. My sense of downtown rush hour was more than just peak time ,  it was when the moon greeted every labourer for a job well done, and dusk called every child home in their rugged thongs for one final "tira," or shot. This series of photographs was taken at Sitio Sufu, South Cotabato, Philippines, from my observations of the countryside.

A recycled piece of cloth and rubber stretched over a scrap of wood , and the village has its own pool table. With a handful of marbles, each child waits for their t'ira (turn), calculates the angle, and mimics the movement of a billiard player. It was innovation, resourcefulness, and creative imagination in its purest form.

These photographs reveal a social truth of my origins that continues to guide me as I thrive today. They awakened in me the understanding that to live fully in my reality, I need to remember the inner Filipino child .. and so I surrendered myself to the service of innocence: curious, observant, courageous.

When mere comparison and old paradigms fell away, I refused to assimilate, to simply blend in .. I chose to acculturate. I embraced this First Nations unceded land – learning, observing, and playing, while remaining attuned to my Filipino identity. This shift in perspective reshaped how I navigate life, from creativity to parenthood. I was finally able to take meaningful, wholehearted "tira" shots in life.

And as the inner Filipino child within me continues to observe, I can finally say: dito ako naka-tira . "I live here."