Like Mother, Like Daughter: A Conversation with Two Generations of Advocates
Gen Z — A Conversation with Sinta
Before we met Sinta (on a Zoom call necessitated by current circumstances), we were first confronted by a series of technical and internet difficulties from both ends. Finally, a third screen popped up on our online call and we were greeted by a new face — apologetic but smiling. Quick introductions were had, and we were immediately struck by Sinta’s casual but collected demeanor. “What a unique name!” we pointed out to Sinta as we introduced ourselves. She proceeded to explain it’s meaning: an old-fashioned word for love. To us, it could not be clearer that there is no name more fitting for Sinta — one with a rich Filipino meaning and which makes profound the most basic of ideas: love. She kept harking back to a principle instilled in her by her mother throughout the interview, stressing that we should “have [our] heart in the right place. It’s so cheesy, but love always talaga. Love above all.”
It’s not often that we have come across high school students so unfazed by conversations deeply rooted in both politics and home life. “If the questions start to feel too political, just let us know! Don’t worry about giving us well-formed or deep answers,” we informed her before we continued with the interview. But not once throughout the conversation did she hesitate or back-track on a response. With all the grace and composure of a seasoned politician, Sinta engaged with us as if she had been interviewed a hundred times before, making it apparent that she was indeed her mother’s daughter.
But if there was one thing she wanted to make clear as the interview progressed, it was that her family didn’t like Senator Hontiveros being viewed as a politician, but rather just someone who happens to work in service. “It really makes me sad,” she explained, “and it makes my mom sad, because people have resorted to putting [politicians] on pedestals, when they shouldn’t… Whenever people meet us, they tend to be shocked with how we work, sort of. Or when they see our dynamic or how we interact with people… We’re just people also, sobrang we’re all on the same level, nobody is above or below each other — or at least it should be that way.”
From our conversation, we found that Sinta’s words were grounded in experience, and her feet planted on solid ground. As she spoke about her time battling OSAEC and helping out in relief operations, she constantly emphasized the centrality of community — a sentiment she echoes from her mother and has made her own.
“The first thing that we should do,” Sinta earnestly communicates, “is to know what the community needs in that exact way.”
From this sentiment, it is apparent that Sinta understands servanthood deepy, emphasizing the importance of co-creation rather than personal gain. As servanthood is no easy feat, Sinta draws strength from the open culture within her household. This openness has become attached to Sinta herself, as there was no shortage in her sharings of stories, insights, and ideas. A single conversation with her felt like an introductory course on the things that matter most in life. When talking about the deepest-rooted problems of our nation, she did so solemnly, ending each statement with a recurrence of hope through concrete action.
Sinta knows fear and doubt all too well, as is the case with most of the youth who are adamant about taking action, however and as a result, she also knows courage and strength: “…start somewhere first, and when you get it up and running, it doesn’t have to be a hundred percent solid, just like everything, it’s going to keep changing, it’s going to keep growing. So, you just build from that.” As we look ahead and reflect on the tremendous work that still needs to be done in our country, we are rewarded a fraction of hope when we meet individuals like Sinta.
It is one thing to have a sincere conviction to serve your country, but it is another thing entirely for that conviction to be inspired by a mother’s love, for both her family and her nation.
Gen X — A Conversation with Senator Hontiveros
While scheduling conflicts prevented us from being able to interview Senator Hontiveros via zoom call, Sinta illustrated a side of her mom not typically portrayed in the media. When sending in her mother’s asynchronous responses to the interview questions, she jokingly commented, “Don’t be surprised nalang if they line up to mine,” and truly, their approaches to life are remarkably similar indeed. While their advocacies and responsibilities remain distinct, both women place a heavy emphasis on the notion of having one’s heart in the right place.
To most, Risa Hontiveros is one of the country’s most prominent politicians, having served in both the Philippine House of Representatives and Senate. A resolute advocate for LGBTQ rights and gender equality, as well as an opponent of the country’s War on Drugs, Senator Hontiveros did not originally pursue a career in politics. Prior to her first term as a congresswoman, she worked as a journalist, and before that, as a member of Repertory Philippines.
“I don’t know if you guys ever heard this before,” Sinta revealed to us, “it’s online and it comes up a lot that my mom didn’t choose to be a politician in the first place. Theatre arts — that was her first love. She was in the Sound of Music, ganun, but, when you ask her, she’ll be like, ‘I chose service over my love, and she ended up loving service as well.’”
One of the most recent advocacies she has undertaken is combatting online sexual abuse and exploitation of children (OSAEC), an advocacy she shares with her daughter.
“I share the anti-OSAEC cause with Sinta,” Senator Hontiveros wrote to us, “and I have been proud of the work she is doing with Kids for Kids, admiring the quality of thought she & her colleagues have brought to the advocacy & hopeful about the future because of young people like her and KFK.”
Sinta in turn expressed her hope for fundamental changes in the country and Filipino culture: “…The long, long battle about sex-ed in our country. Look at other countries abroad: They started as early as pre-school, and it can be as simple as children learning yes or no. Or when they force little kids, ‘Oh make beso, oh give them a hug.’ They think it’s cute, but really, you’re implanting in their brain already at that age, ‘Oh they said I’ll do this. I’ll do it so they’ll be pleased, I’ll go do it even if I don’t want to do it anyway.’
It starts at home. It doesn’t have to be complicated.
Especially since we’re in a Catholic country, really deep-rooted into that. It’s a lot to go through, but it’s not impossible.”
While we did not get to meet both Sinta and Senator Hontiveros jointly, their answers made apparent how deep their bond with each other is. Sinta repeatedly emphasized how present her mom has been in her life, in spite of her busy schedule. She revealed that she is actually homeschooled by her mom, to which, she says, most people react “She has the time for that?” “I grew up sick,” she explained, “So we’re in and out of the hospital a lot. A month wouldn’t go by that I didn’t go to the hospital. Appointments, tests, treatments. Obviously, she was with me more than half of the time. There are times I’d go to the ER and it’s a day when she’s leaving abroad at like 3am in the morning. And she’s caught in between, ‘Do I stay in the ER with my child or do I go, ’cause I got to go?’ This pandemic, I was hospitalized. She was really going to be absent from work, virtually. And we have this conversation one too many times, when she’s like, ‘Oh I’ll stay with you ha.’ and I’m always like, ‘No Ma, you have to go to work, you have to attend this. It’s okay, I understand. You gotta go. I’m not the only one you’re taking care of.’”
Intergenerationality is often perceived as a gap, but it does not have to be —
not when something much more powerful can bridge the divide between two generations, as is the case with Sinta and her mother. As the former might put it, “Love always. Love above all.” We need not stand in opposition with our parents, our grandparents, our predecessors. We can choose to instead walk alongside each other, facing what lies ahead together: the work to be done, and the future to be secured.
Intergenerational relationships like Sinta and Senator Hontiveros’ reminds us that collaboration and co-creation is possible, when both sides are willing to lean into difficult conversations wholeheartedly.
Rather than posing as obstacles, these relationships may instead become catalysts for change.
Written by Betty Napkil and Sophie Lua, talented writers from our team who has been changemaking together with us for more than a year
