Community & Connection

A space for shared stories, gentle advocacy, and the work that roots me.

Where my wandering meets my why

My life has taken me through cities, classrooms, communities, and quiet riverbanks — but the thread that ties everything together is this: we grow through connection.

Not the loud, performative kind, but the slow, relational, deeply human kind.

This page is where I gather the people, places, and partnerships that shape my work and my heart.

Why this matters to me

I believe in communities that lift each other.


I believe in childhoods that are safe, joyful, and rooted in culture.


I believe in advocacy that feels like relationship, not transaction.

If my wanderings have taught me anything, it’s that connection is the real destination.

Lift PH Up: Community as a Verb

Lift PH Up began as a simple belief: that local innovators, educators, and community leaders deserve support that is dignified, relational, and rooted in trust

Today, it continues to grow through projects that honor culture, empower families, and create spaces where children can learn, play, and thrive.

Our work is not charity — it is collaboration.
It is listening, learning, and walking alongside communities who already carry wisdom, resilience, and vision.

Paluan, its People & the Community of IPs

My connection to Paluan is one of the quiet blessings of my life.

The people of Paluan and the Katutubo have welcomed me with stories, laughter, and a way of seeing the world that is grounded, generous, and deeply ancestral.

Together, we are shaping the Children’s Discovery Camp, a space where IP children (ages 3–7) can explore early learning through play, nature, and cultural identity — guided by their elders, their environment, and their own curiosity.

This partnership is built on respect. On presence.

Sir Abe Pangilinan & ASPAN Construction

Some people support communities quietly, without fanfare — just steady presence and genuine care.

That is who Sir Abe Pangilinan has been to Paluan. Through ASPAN Construction & Development Corp., he has consistently shown up for the IP children and their families, long before any titles or recognition. His support is grounded, practical, and deeply human — the kind that strengthens a community from the inside out.



Stay Connected.

If you’d like to follow the stories, projects, and gentle revolutions happening in these communities, this is where I’ll share updates.

Stories from the Field

1. A Journey to Paluan: Trust, Community, and a Memorandum of Agreement

June 14, 2026 – I traveled to Paluan with a folder full of documents, a Memorandum of Agreement, and the responsibility of explaining every term, every condition, every intention behind our Children’s Discovery Camp. I thought the trip would be technical — a meeting, a presentation, a checklist of approvals.

But the moment I sat with the Katutubo elders and leaders, I realized this visit was not just about paperwork. It was about presence. Listening. Respect. And trust.

I came to explain the MOA.
But Paluan had other plans for me.

High in the hills of Sitio Ulasan, Brgy. Harrison, I sat with elders and leaders of the Indigenous People of Paluan, Occidental Mindoro to walk them through the terms of our Memorandum of Agreement for the Children’s Discovery Camp. I thought I was there to explain a document. Instead, I found myself receiving something far deeper — trust, affirmation, and a shared sense of purpose.

Community members, the Council of Elders of Brgy. Harrison gathered after the MOA discussion — a reminder that this work is always shared. Far right is IP leader, Garry B. Pag-Ilagan, past IPM Representative of Paluan. He reviewed the MOA, making sure that it aligns with the Indigenous Peoples’ Mandatory Representation (IPMR) Law (the law that ensures the Indigenous Peoples in the Philippines have representation in local legislative councils, promoting their rights and interests in governance.) Third from right is Lester Evangelio, an agriculturist and Lift PH Up’s consultant. He was instrumental in introducing Mr. Pag-Ilagan to us.

What I Brought to Paluan — and What Paluan Gave Back

We gathered in a small, quiet space — no microphones, no formalities, just people who care deeply about their children and their community. I laid out the terms of the MOA, line by line, making sure everything was clear, transparent, and rooted in respect.


They listened.
Really listened.


Not the kind of listening that waits for a turn to speak, but the kind that weighs every word, every intention, every implication for the next generation.
And when they finally spoke, it wasn’t just approval I heard.


It was wisdom.
It was grounding.
It was a reminder that community work is never just logistics — it is relationship.

I didn’t expect the immediate past IPMR to be there.
I didn’t expect him to speak.


And I definitely didn’t expect him to stand with us so firmly.
His support was more than a nod.


It was a bridge — a connection to the past leadership, a blessing from someone who carried the community’s trust for years.


When he said he believed in the project, in the intention, in the partnership… something inside me softened. I felt the weight of responsibility shift into something lighter, something shared.

There was a moment — quiet, almost unnoticeable — when I realized the elders weren’t just approving a document. They were entrusting us with a piece of their future. That kind of trust is not given lightly. It is earned slowly, through sincerity, clarity, and humility.


And in that moment, I understood:
I came to Paluan to present a project.

But I was leaving with a responsibility that was deeper, more human, more sacred.

Set the date for the signing of the MOA.

It sounds simple, but it isn’t. It means they are ready. It means they are committed. It means they see us not as visitors, but as partners.

We are now looking at July 4, 5, or 6 — a window of time that feels both near and monumental.

I went to Paluan thinking I was there to explain something. But the elders explained something to me instead:
That real partnership is not built on signatures. It is built on sincerity. On listening. On showing up with both hands open.


And as we prepare for the MOA signing in July, I carry their trust with care — knowing that this journey is just beginning, and that the most important work is the work we do together.