GROWING UP, my parents would relentlessly insist that I study, pursue a career, and start a family abroad. It was an idea that I was always quick to shoot down due to a mix of genuine disinterest and fear of leaving my home and friends behind. My parents never took that answer well, insinuating that this country had nothing of value to offer me and the family as a whole, and that we were much better off elsewhere.

I knew that was an elitist mindset, yet I couldn’t help but feel guilty for disagreeing with my parents who really just wanted the best for me at the end of the day. I was naturally afraid of disappointing them especially since a large portion of my extended family has already relocated to various first-world countries.

When my sister moved to the United States in early 2021 to attend Gonzaga University, my worries became as tangible as ever. The sudden absence of my only sibling brought about a deafening silence in our household, as if to say, “There’s nothing of value left here.”

I nearly believed it.

There came a point where my decision to stay felt like an admission of my own mediocrity—that I was destined to go down with what my parents believed was a sinking ship of a country. I found it quite difficult to get through this part of my life.

It was only when coverage on the upcoming elections began that the silence was finally broken. My feed became occupied with the same tired half-meant jokes of “escaping” the country before a new set of corrupt officials started their terms. A good friend of mine even expressed serious plans to leave the country if a particular candidate won the presidency. I became incredibly frustrated at this apathy and pessimism, especially amid a time that demands the opposite.

It was all quite saddening to say the least, but I was ultimately reminded that my decision to stay or leave was never supposed to be about me. It came down to where I felt I was needed and where I had the most to contribute as a student journalist.

I realize that it can be hard to believe that staying for the good of our country can leave much of an impact, but I would argue otherwise. Philippine history itself is defined by the individuals that chose to serve their country despite the allure of a better and often safer life overseas. Even those the likes of Ninoy Aquino and Jose Rizal who had to spend parts of their lives in other countries ultimately decided to return even if it meant an imminent death. Looking at how grim our situation already is at the moment, I can’t even begin to imagine how things would be now if they chose the other option.

I’m not saying that everyone has to dedicate their lives to this country in such dramatic fashion like these people did, nor am I implying that there is anything inherently wrong with living abroad. I realize that finding work in another country is often the smartest decision, especially when you have a family back home to support.

However, I truly believe that this country needs its people, especially its youth, to commit their passions and skills towards building a better future for the generations of Filipinos to come. That’s what many of our ancestors did for us, and I think it’s important for us to do their efforts justice when the opportunity presents itself.

Choosing to stay might not always be the most glamorous or exciting choice, but it is the most selfless decision—and selflessness is precisely what this country desperately needs right now.