Pecha Kucha Speech Transcript: I made it out alive! My first attempt running for Edmonton Municipal Election during COVID

Giselle delivering a speech at the stage of Metro Cinema in Edmonton

After a long hiatus no thanks to the pandemic, it seemed fitting that my first in-person speech activity was with the same event where I did my last in-person speech from 2019. It’s with Edmonton Next Gen for their Pecha Kucha night! This is the transcript of my speech titled “I made it out alive! My first attempt running for Edmonton Municipal Election during COVID”

  1. That was nothing to sneeze at! It’s a phrase I never heard before, until after the election day. 5180 votes, Second place against an incumbent, with limited funds and during a pandemic, was apparently noteworthy.
  2. You should feel proud, I was told. How do I feel? Not that. I felt gratitude, inspiration, motivation and energy. Most of all, huge relief that I made it out alive, uninjured, not severely traumatized.
  3. There are many “typical” things you need to prepare for when running as a candidate, your platform, who to ask to volunteer or donate, the GOTV plan, short for Get Out The Vote, print and online communications and more.
  4. In 2016, I attended my first elections 101 program, hosted by the city for women who want to be involved in municipal politics. A current city councillor (born & raised Canadian white guy) did his energizing pitch that we, women, should run.
  5. In the Q and A I raised my and asked, ummmm sir, councillor may I ask, is it safe to run for politics in Edmonton, in Canada? Do I need to worry about getting killed and my dead body floating in the River Valley?
  6. He was shocked and reassured me it IS safe to run here. A fellow workshop participant told me, wow, I was worried about social media trolls, I didn’t even think about actual threats to my life. For me that was top of mind.  
  7. From then on, in the other workshops and campaign toolkits I accessed, I realized it gives some fundamentals, but won’t be sufficient to help me run a campaign that aligns with my values and will keep me safe, healthy and uninjures.
  8. Immigrants and visible minorities have a steep learning curve about the political culture here. It’s even worse when you came from a country where politicians, journalists and activists do get murdered on a regular basis.
  9. When a candidate knocks on your door, what comments do you make? I got “Do you have kids?” “What’s your background?” “Are you Native?” “I love the Filipino caregivers!”  Do male or white candidates get these also, I wondered.
  10. I know that all it takes is one violent incident to cause permanent injury and harm. I had to constantly think, I can protect and defend, administer first aid,  call 911 quickly when things go very wrong for me? 
  11. I have a very difficult time asking for help and this stems from a lot of personal trauma as an immigrant and an orphan. It’s a huge challenge to overcome and that was important, since the area for ward sipiwiyiniwak, where I was running, is massive!
  12. Campaigning during COVID added more concerns, on because of the increased prevalence of Anti-Asian racism. I can’t change how I look. I’m someone who looks visibly Asian, wears a mask, and also gets misidentified as Indigenous.
  13. The volunteers who were my fellow immigrants had additional fears that was tough to overcome. The big one, dropping off flyers in mailboxes. Despite my reassurances that it’s permitted. They skipped the ones that says “no flyers or no soliciting”
  14. They’re worried about getting yelled at as ignorant, rule breakers, they’re afraid of harassment. They’re worried about my reputation too. The tradeoff, better for people to not know me, than being angry at me after seeing an flyer they didn’t want.
  15. As someone who can’t drive and with a weak leg, I carried heavy supplies and went to neighbourhoods on foot, car and bus. Which shocked bus and uber drivers, seeing a candidate who’s literally living like an average person.
  16. With that said, many people donated and shared their time and talents. People doorknocked and flyer dropped with me in hot summer days and rainy afternoons, dealing with hazards on streets. Sidewalks and front lawns, across older and developing neighbourhoods.
  17. People I’ve never met until the campaign reached out through email and social media, who helped remotely and positively talked about my candidacy to others. Trolls were very few, but supportive people, thank goodness, it’s abundant.
  18. The next day, after the election I got a message on Twitter from a competitor I’m on good terms with. Like me, he didn’t win. His message said “well that was a waste of time”. And that’s one huge thing I disagree with.
  19. For me this is just part of community service and being an adult. Within  a week, I resumed my volunteer duties with my neighbourhood, ethnic community, and the city. I went back to my nonprofit job, booked a massage, and an appointment with my therapist.  
  20. I’m alive, uninjured and not severely traumatized. I plan to share my insights, and campaign templates to anyone who wants it. And if I’m fortunate enough, I might be healthy enough, wiser and equipped for a future candidacy. TY.

This post will be updated once the video of the presentation is available. Thank you to Edmonton’s Next Gen, the organizers of Pecha Kucha Night that takes place three times a year, for the opportunity to present, especially for something as significant as your first in-person event since COVID started. For more information such as previous presentations how to support or participate, visit https://edmontonnextgen.ca/pkn.

The Life-Changing Impact of School Choirs in My Life

By: Giselle General

Humans of New York is a Facebook page I have been following for the past decade, with is compelling and artful way of capturing people’s portraits and their stories of the subjects, usually narrated from their perspective. A series of posts not too long ago talks about a subject that was dear to me, children’s and youth choirs. It was a story of the founder of the Young People’s Chorus of New York City.

Music, particularly singing in groups, was a regular part of my own life starting in elementary school. I would say it is my first ongoing experience as a child learning how it’s like to contribute something to a collective whole. Usually the settings are religious, where students from every grade level take turns being the main choir for the monthly Catholic mass at school. I learned then the phrase “singing is twice praying” which I find compelling to this day, even if I don’t regularly go to church. There is something deeper, spiritual, and elemental about music, and even more so for me, when the sounds come from my own body, my own breath, my own vocal chords.

I continued this musical journey through the Catholic Youth Ministry student group in my first two years of high school, still in the village where I grew up. By then, it has been three years since my parents and sister died, and I’m very well set in my ‘parental’ and provider roles for my brother and myself. Home life was not a place of ease and acceptance. Being part of the Youth Ministry choir was great way for me to maintain some sense of age-appropriate exposure and belonging, one of the few ways I felt like an actual teenager.

When I moved to a high school in the nearby city, I was too intimidated to join the Performing Arts Club of my new school in the city, but I did join the Liturgy Club. That involved a lot of singing in the daily church service from 7 PM – 7:30 AM before the morning bell.

“Hear me Jesus, hide me in thy wounds that I may never leave thy side. From all the evil that surrounds me, defend me! And when the call of death arrives, bud me come to thee. That I may praise thee with thy saints, forever!

When I came to Canada at 16 years old, I joined the school choir for Holy Cross high school in St. Catharines Ontario, during my only year in high school here, Grade 12. It seemed like an easy, seamless way to be part of a club. I can already sing in English and despite not being able to read music, I can follow along once the instructor plays the piano and demos the notes. The first song I learned is O Canada which was really cool. It meant I was years ahead in preparing for my citizenship ceremony, haha! On top of religious songs, I also learned how to sing pop songs in a choral setting. I learned how to be the backup melody while our vocalist Danica would sing the main lines. This one I remember well, which is Apologize by Timbaland.

Danica our lead vocalist: “I’m holding on your rope, Got me ten feet off the ground. And I’m hearing what you say, But I just can’t make a sound. You tell me that you need me, Then you go and cut me down, but wait. You tell me that you’re sorry, Didn’t think I’d turn around and say.”

The other students, including me throughout this entire verse: “Ooooh, na na na. Oooh na na na.

Staying after school on Thursday afternoons, sometimes also Tuesdays, was something I really looked forward to then, because I was not used to the way things were in Canada with school being done at 3 PM. It felt way too early and I’m usually at home alone after school. It opened remarkable experiences and opportunities for me, such as performing in front on a baseball stadium in Toronto and me taking the yellow school bus for the first time. And also, getting a loyalty award at the end of the school year for being involved in the choir. This has significantly helped in my adapting to life in Canada, followed by discovering the Filipino-Canadian Association of Niagara and its cultural youth dance group.

When I moved to Edmonton and stared university, I considered auditioning for the choir, but got intimidated by the fact that the members are likely music majors, so those with superior vocal skills who are planning to make this their career. As I went through the motions of completing my university degree, the show Glee came about. I thought the show was entertaining and fun and cool. While in this case, the choir is more of a show choir and is flashier, I’ve seen glimpses of what reminded me about what high school choirs, and high school clubs in general, can provide to young folks going through one of the most transformative stage of their lives.

I got teary-eyed when I watched one of the performances of this youth choir featured in Humans of New York, the Young People’s Chorus of New York City. The combination of the vocals of the performers and picking up the distinctive sound of youth, especially for the male students who seem to have just started puberty. Seeing how many of the kids are way shorter than their instructor/ conductor, and seeing how animated they are singing their parts.

My youth choir experience was something I personally cherish in my younger years. It kept me out of trouble and at the same time, helped me reconnect to my actual age and stage in life, that I was an actual kid who is still growing up, not saddled with adult responsibilities such as earning income and being the parent for me and my brother. When they are run well, youth choirs can serve as a bridge between kids of different backgrounds, provide structure, motivation and fun in a balance way for growing minds, and open opportunities for those who lack access in their own homes.

Thank you to all the adults that help manage youth choirs and other music-related programs and make them a success!

My Current One and Only White Hair

Closeup of a black-haird woman's face and her hand holding a strand of grey hair.

By: Giselle General

It was February 2020 and I was excited to do my bi-annual ritual with my hair. I let it grow for close to 24 months and I cut a large chunk of it to donate for charitable causes that make free wigs for kids with cancer. Usually I alternate between Hair Massacure or Angel Hair Foundation. It’s something I have been doing since March 2009.

This time around, I got assistance in cutting my hair and shaving my head so I have a smooth and even buzz cut. My brother who was living with me at the time agreed to help, maybe reluctantly because little brothers can’t refuse their Ate (big sister) when they ask for sometime, haha! It was pretty messy, and pretty fun. He was so scared at first to use the scissors to cut the little pony tails of hair I tied, but I told him to just hold his hand steady and it will be fine. Then, it was time to bring out the clippers! It was a the lowest setting, number 1, so what was left in my head is likely the same length of hair that most men have when they don’t shave for a day. He told me a few times to tilt my head this way and that way, and hold me earlobes flat, so that the clippers cover every part of my scalp. He did an amazing job.

A week later, I was in the office washroom when I notice something unusual on the top of my head. My hair is going through its “chipmunk phase” so it was sticking up and ready to poke you! But I saw that there was one particular spot where the little half-centimeter of hair didn’t look the same as all my other hair. It was lighter colored! I thought it was a piece of dirt, or somehow soap or shampoo got stuck – although I thought that didn’t much sense.

Then March 2020 rolls around and by then I had at least half an inch of hair. And it’s confirmed, it is a single strand of white hair, growing from the root! I posted about it on Facebook my feelings a mixture of amazement and disbelief, since at this time I was 29 years old. My great aunt living in Australia said some nice words about the white hair being a symbol of age and wisdom. I really appreciated it.

I’m not exactly outraged of panicked about it. I’m more amused really. And I challenged myself to try to keep that single strand for as long as possible, so not pulling it out either manually or when I comb or brush my hair.

And then the pandemic hit. As I mostly worked from home for months on end, I’d see this single strand of silver whenever I comb my hair and part it a little to the left. Inch by inch, my buzz turned into a pixie, then a bob, then shoulder length and now it is past my shoulders again.

Now it is January 2022. I’m preparing to shave my head and donate my hair to any of these organizations if they are still around and accepting natural hair donations. I wonder what surprises my scalp will bring up. Will I have a few more grey hairs that will pop up from the root? Will that be the physical manifestation of the stress from the past year, not just from COVID and the state of the world, but from the election I ran for recently?

It’s been remarkable to finally see changes that are related to aging. With a bit of dread and also curiosity, I acknowledge that menopause will be here before realizing what hit me!

Cheating to Survive by Evading Transit Fare: The Captive Transit User Series: Part 8

Closeup of a hand holding a Canadian two-dollar coin.

This is part of an ongoing series of posts discussion issues I personally encounter while taking public transit in Edmonton. Links to other posts will be added on an ongoing basis:

What is a Captive Transit User? I learned about the term for the first time from the City of Edmonton’s website. The easy definition is: someone who takes public transit because it’s the best (or only available) option for them to travel around. The part about feeling ‘captive’ comes from the restriction that sometimes comes up, perhaps because one is too poor to own and maintain a vehicle, one does not know how to drive, or for medical reasons, cannot operate a vehicle. In many ways, I relate to this a lot. Though I’m pretty fortunate to afford the occasional taxi ride, and with my husband having a car.


In the volunteer-based citizen advisory board on transit I’ve been involved with for the past three years, we had a recent discussion about cash fares, how much they are supposed to be, and the impact of increasing it to $4. During this exchange of emails, I sent this as a response.

I’m gonna get a bit personal here: during my first year in Canada, the first “it’s not right but I gotta do it to survive” life hack I learned is how to evade paying the full amount when taking the public bus. I was in a living situation where I didn’t get adequate financial support even for small things such as taking the bus to go to a classmate’s house for a school project. Most days during winter there in St. Catharines, Ontario, I can handle walking up to one hour one way to my destination but that is not always feasible. One day I was worried because I was short 25 cents to pay for fare and when I placed all my coins in the cash box, I didn’t get reprimanded for being short. So I did that, a few times. It felt horrible. But I was a 16-year-old newcomer to Canada still adjusting to school and didn’t have a job yet, and I had to fend for myself and be resourceful. And sometimes, the coins in the key jar by my cousin’s house wasn’t enough for bus fare. 

The times when I short-changed the public transit system were back in 2008 and I still think about it to this day. 2007, the year just before that, was a particularly difficult year for me even before coming to Canada. In early 2007 I’ve done several things that are considered theft (of large amounts of money), which I would have been arrested for if I was caught. Only those who have lived in desperate times would understand the pressure to be “resourceful” in order to survive.

Thankfully, after moving to Edmonton, I was able to gain employment and improve my life. For many years, I’ve benefited from various transit-related arrangements that helped make taking transit more manageable. There was the U-Pass, a sticker placed on my university ID card, that allowed me to take unlimited transit trips throughout the entire semester. There was the monthly bus pass where, for a fixed amount (latest is $100) I can take as many trips on the bus and LRT. And during the pandemic, I’m lucky enough to be able to afford a 10-pack of bus tickets, that are approximately $25 each. There is certainly a time and a place for incentives and discounts for frequent users of our transit system.

However, the needs of transit users using it for a few trips also needs to be considered. Some can be like me, a newcomer with limited cash, still working on getting established while needing to travel around to do so. It can be the tourist who is trying to follow Google Maps’ suggestion to take a short transit trip to a destination and might only need to take the transit system less than five times over a few days. And yes, it can also be the person who is homeless, who managed to get some coins from begging, and really wanted to be fair and pay the proper transit fare. Raising the cash fare for one-time users is detrimental to these types of passengers.

I’m relieved that in the end, Edmonton City Council voted down the proposal from the City Administration to raise the cash fare. I’m also looking forward to be a member of the public who will be pilot testing the electronic card fare payment system which they named the ARC card. I’ve heard from many fellow Edmontonians that taking transit and paying upon entering the bus or LRT station should be as easy as tapping your debit or credit card, of which I agree.

Book Review And Thank You Letter: The Midnight Library by Matt Haig

A library shelf with various books, and in the middle displayed the front page of "The Midnight Library" by Matt Haig

By: Giselle General

My workplace organizes an opt-in Secret Santa every year, and I participate every year. This time, I received a book as a gift, which is perfect for the holiday break that we get from Christmas Eve to New Year’s Day, usually with an extra day or two. This is a Thank You Letter and a book review to my office Secret Santa, whose identity I still don’t know!


December 29, 2021

Dear work Secret Santa,

I don’t have investigative skills at all, so I will likely never know who you are. Also, over the past seven years at our workplace, I’ve only know for sure who my Secret Santa is just one time. The other time, I had a hunch but was never confirmed. All I know, given your handwritten  note on the card, is that you are either part of the office’s Book Club, or know someone who is.

I finished reading The Midnight Library by Matt Haig during the holiday break, over the course of a few days between Christmas Eve (our first day off from work) and Boxing Day.

Also, bonus points for wrapping the book using a Christmas themed fabric drawstring bag! I love it and I promise it will be re-used for many further occasions.

Anyways, back to the book. This is the first time I’ve read a book by this author, so I was going in blind. Aside from the short summary on the cover, I tried hard to not give myself spoilers from reading reviews online. The plot is really interesting, and very relevant to what I imagine is what a lot of people are feeling these days. The exhaustion and discouragement from feeling that one’s life have been full of regret or decisions will less-than-ideal outcomes. The resentment that might come up from one’s current circumstances, made worse by feeling trapped and unable to do enough to change things. Nora, the main character, decides to kill herself shortly after a neighbour tells her that her cat had died, after an already rough day from getting fired from her job and running into her old bandmate who tells Nora that her brother is unwell. Thinking and truly believing that “it is a good day to die” emphasizes disillusionment from feeling worthless and wanting the pain to end.

I am personally fond of libraries; they were literally a lifesaver for me growing up. So, the young Nora having fond memories of her school library was lovely, as well as her relationship with the librarian, Ms. Elm. Our own mind and memories work in interesting ways, so when the adult Nora overdoses on her medication and was taken to a mystical place where she can live different versions of her lives, it made sense to me that it looked like a library and that her “spiritual guide” was in the form of a familiar, kind person in her life, Ms. Elm.

The library has a “Book of Regrets” and countless books of different versions of lives to live. If Nora felt that she wanted to live that life permanently, she will be able to do so. But many times, feelings of discomfort, regret and discontent arises which would then take her back to the Midnight Library. As Nora went through various versions of what her life might have been, she slowly shakes off the feeling of needing to live the way that fulfills other people’s expectations. She also learned a harsh and true lesson, you can make choices, but you cannot predict outcomes.  This was a difficult one for Nora, because in some of the alternate lives she had chosen, either her friend, brother or someone else gets harmed and dies. In one of our alternate lives, she met a fellow “wanderer” who helped her understand the concept of what they are going through from a metaphysical standpoint.

Nora finally decides to return to her “root life”, the current life she was living in (and at the moment, her body is dying from the medical overdose), with a newfound sense of purpose, contentment, and determination to make some decision actions to make her present life better. I am particularly thrilled to learn that the actual Mrs. Elm was alive, and that the book ends with Nora and Mrs. Elm playing chess in the retirement home.

I know I took a break from the office book club, but if I re-join in the new year, maybe I’ll suggest this book. At least I already have a copy that I can lend to our co-workers!

Thank you again for the gift and for believing that this is a good choice for me. I do recommend others to read it also!  

Love Language Reflections: Learning About Love Maps

a man and a woman walking on a farm on a date

The consequence of not having solid role models of what a loving, caring, mutually equitable marriage looks like, is that I had absolutely no clue where to start. While I am lucky enough to have some memories of my parents until they died when I was eight years old, that is not enough time to learn, remember and apply it in my own relationships. One thing did stand out, and that is they treated each other well, so at least I know that this is a valuable principle that I want to have, and want to make happen, in my own marriage.

Luckily for me, I was book smart as a child and have retained some of the positive aspects of being one. That is, being resourceful and not feeling ashamed to do research, whether it is print or online resources, on how to do things. It’s something I’ve done for many years, including the awkward topics that I felt are just as important, such as learning about sex positions!

A YouTube channel I’ve started watching recently and really loved is Cinema Therapy. It’s an amazing Youtube channel that analyzes movies from a mental health standpoint, from a filmmaking standpoint, and hosted by two men (a registered psychologist and a film director) who are very open about their emotions while reviewing the movies. One of their videos talks about the 1990’s version of the Addams Family movie and how the main characters, Morticia and Gomez, showcase several key principles of a good marriage. In this video, the new concept I learned which I really like is the one of Love Maps.

A Love Map is the “part of your brain where you store all the relevant information about your partner’s life” as referenced in the book mentioned in the YouTube video, the Seven Principles of Making Marriage Work.

This is gonna sound cheesy again, but my husband, bless the man, has already been doing this without knowing the technical term for it. Many times in the past, when he learns something new that caused a strong reaction in me, both positive or negative, he makes an actual effort to remember them.

I’ve talked about the concept of Love Language before. I realized that the concepts of Love Language and Love Map go hand in hand, and I think it’s remarkable! Love Language focuses on categories that are very practical and tangible, while Love Maps can help find and apply specific observations or preferences.

So, using my husband as an example, the love languages he likes to receive are acts of service, quality time, and touch. Integrating the principle of the Love Map here means the following examples:

  • He appreciates food being prepared for him whenever I am at home. It doesn’t matter at all whether it is 100% homemade, takeout, or simple processed food like a frozen meal or a can of soup. Having a plate or bowl of warm food and a drink placed in front of him is something he really loves.
  • He appreciates that I know how to repair clothes and re-purpose non-wearable clothes into other functional household items. The most recent one is the pair of pants I repaired so many times, and when it’s no longer salvageable, I turned it into a pillow. He describes them as “gift made with love”.
  • Spending time doing different things while in the same room is quality time.
  • He loves cuddles and hugs throughout the day, and bed cuddles during daytime hours can only last up to 30 minutes max, then he gets restless.

In my case, the love languages I really cherish are acts of service, touch, and words of affirmation. Integrating the principles of the Love Map here means the following examples:

  • While I like all various types of affirming words, my outward reactions to them vary. Hearing “you’ve my love” and “I love you” will have the most immediate and reciprocating response with me saying “I love you too!”. Compliments about my skills “you’re such a smart baby!” would make me feel nice inside, but my reaction is more muted, likely because I’m raised to be modest about my skills. Compliments about my appearance “you’re a sexy lady!” are also lovely for my self-esteem, and I need to work on responding to them still. It is nice to be reminded at least one person thinks my butt is cute!
  • Acts of service for me includes self-organization and self-care, not just actions done directly for me. So, paying the bills on time or emptying the dishwasher are amazing, as well as him taking a break from chores and playing video games so he can de-stress. There’s no need for him to iron my clothes or buy my preferred snacks from the Filipino convenience store.
  • I love all forms of touch! We hold hands in the car all the time. When we “bump” into each other in our home’s hallways there’s always a little kiss or butt grab! And cuddles for at least 15 minutes at bedtime before sleeping is an integral part of our bedtime routine.

Combining this with other things I’m trying to do for my own individual wellbeing, such as therapy and learning about mental health, I hope that we are able to continue to be there for each other. This upcoming year is a year of a lot of change, and I hope that we will be able to ride out all what is to come and have our relationship in one piece.

The Mindset of ‘Understanding, not Agreement’

A couple sitting on a yellow couch while arguing.

By: Giselle General

There’s no need for a rocket scientist to tell me, or anyone else, that people seem to be more divided than ever. There’s enough commentary around lamenting the increasing ‘us versus them’ mindset, amplified by social media, people speaking out against injustices they have suffered from for so long, and people feeling anxious about all social, economic, and political changes happening around them.

“This is a hill I’m willing to die on” is one of those euphemisms that I, as a English as Second Language speaker, try to wrap my mind around.

In a government advisory board I volunteer for, a long-time board member suggested the concept of ‘understanding, not agreement’.

I think this means, making an attempt to follow the thought process of someone’s argument or reasoning, without necessarily agreeing with this person’s position. It is something I haven’t heard before and it stuck with me ever since. I think that there is value to what he said, something I am discovering more and I expand the ways I volunteer in the community.

It gets tricky of course when the person’s perspective is inherently harmful or invalidating the suffering of others. I don’t have an answer right now on how to navigate this. I think that would be the necessary next stage as I try to get more involved in the community.

In one of my recent appointments with my therapist, we talked about getting backlash and criticisms and how to react to them. One piece of advice she gave was ‘find the nugget of truth’. I think there is something to that. Even if a racist person keeps on spewing out problematic commentary, if you dig just a little bit, there is something else beneath the hostility. It can be ignorance, it can be fear, it can be lack of belonging, or a little bit of each.

Someone who keeps on mentioning economic impact when it comes to policy decisions might not necessarily be a callous jerk who cares only about jobs. Perhaps their train of thought is that financial stability is a valuable foundation of a person’s wellbeing, and if that is not considered, it can be tough to convince people to do certain actions.

Someone who keeps on mentioning the number of people dying when it comes to policy decisions might not necessarily be a delusional person who thinks the government has unlimited money. Perhaps their train of thought is that every single life has value, and believes that if a person is dead because of government policy failing them, that is completely unacceptable.

Back in university, I remember reading an article about how conservative and liberal minded people can convince the other camp of their perspectives. The essence of the advice was to use the logic and mindset of the other party to frame the arguments towards the topic of discussion. For instance, it can be valuable to say that increased environmental protections through policy can help preserve and maintain the God-given nature, a precious resource and blessing that deserves care.

Given that COVID19 is still an issue, after almost two years, in an attempt to protect my mental health, to protect people around me from being subjected to my anger, and to keep my faith in humanity, I’m trying a bit harder to tell myself these days “understand what led a person to believe that way, even if in my own mind, it is completely nonsensical”. A book I read during a trip, Predictably Irrational: The Hidden Forces That Shape Our Decisions by Dan Ariely, also reminded me of the natural and human flaws of decision-making and belief.

As I browse through the different definitions of the word understand, I’m trying to learn how people behave and communicate, even if I am not convinced of their mentality.

to perceive the meaning of; grasp the idea of; comprehend

to perceive what is meant; grasp the information conveyed

to be thoroughly familiar with; apprehend clearly the character, nature, or subtleties of

to accept tolerantly or sympathetically

to assign a meaning to; interpret

to grasp the significance, implications, or importance of

And in the process, I can see more clearly why some people have views that are discriminatory or ignorant. Many beliefs and behaviours are harmful even towards oneself, but from the perspective of trauma or being in survival more, a clear path emerges.

How about confronting and addressing these mindsets that are problematic? That is a whole different conversation altogether.

Book Review and Thank You Letter: Motherless Daughters, The Legacy Of Loss: by Hope Edelman

By: Giselle General

In an attempt to fill the gaps in support and knowledge from my ongoing therapy, I was seeking out additional resources to help with dealing with the pain and loss of being an orphan. While my therapist wasn’t able to point me to an local support group, I found an adequate starting point.

I just finished reading the book Motherless Daughters, The Legacy Of Loss: by Hope Edelman. This is a Thank You Letter and a book review for the person who recommended this book, a remarkable woman in Edmonton named Mimi.


November 29 2021,

Dear Mimi,

Thank you for your lovely invitation to go out for lunch a few weeks after the outcome of the Edmonton Municipal Election last October 18. It was wonderful to chat with someone who experienced many of the things I have as a first-time elections candidate, as someone who is a person of color, and a woman. You shared many stories and insights that will help me as I go through my emotional recovery after not winning this election.

On top of the political commentary and stories, you kindly asked important questions about one challenging reality I have, as someone who doesn’t have a mother figure in my current life, and as someone who hasn’t had such a person for a very long time.

If my memory served me right, you actually haven’t read the book yourself, but you shared to me that Motherless Daughters was a book recommended to you a while back. I believe you said that you’re not the self-help-book-type. I was overjoyed though, since self-help is a book category I read on regular basis. Thank goodness an E-book version was available through the Edmonton Public Library, and I started reading in on nights and weekends when I have spare time.

The book was written and researched by a woman whose mother died when she was young, a teenager, and it involved numerous interviews and questionnaires from other “motherless daughters“. I liked how the book chapters outlined concepts bases on topic, such as navigating womanhood, romance, family, motivation and self-worth as a motherless daughter.

My favourite was how the book outlined key differences in terms of impact, depending on the child’s age when the mother passed away. I was eight when my mother died, together with my father and sister. Old enough to remember who they are and to know that life will never be the same after the deaths. Too young to do basic household management functions on my own. Too ill-equipped to grieve but not immune to the need of it.

It was a tough read, where every paragraph hitting me hard, shedding a light in very dark corners of my scarred soul, revealing wounds that never really completely healed. Especially in the first five chapters, it felt like every third paragraph made me cry, the vision of a child in her brokenness that was never acknowledged, and was just hidden away for so long. The stories of the other women and the commentary from doctors and the referenced resources, are both haunting and illuminating.

While distressing and unfortunate, I learned that it is actually normal for people to freak out when they reach the age of death of their same-gender parent. I thought that being fatalistic, catastrophising is a unique issue I am having due to election stress. Seriously, for the last six months before the election day my mind was telling me relentlessly “If I lose in this election, I have three years left to prove my worth. If I am not able to accomplish something profound and remarkable, my mother’s sacrifice was worthless. I don’t deserve to outlive her, and ending my life then is the right course of action.” I cannot rationalize it then, but yes, I was measuring my life and worth based on a very specific number, 33 years of age.

Now, there is huge comfort from realizing that this is a common occurrence. That subconsciously, people can be neglectful about their lives, or in the case of those whose mothers died of suicide or addictions, the adult “motherless daughter” ends up replicating those behaviours. It comes from wanting to grasp any way to find a connection with the mother that died too soon. So this is something I have to seriously watch for between now and 2024, that I don’t harm or kill myself, either by suicide or self-sabotaging my wellbeing.

Chapters of the book outlined how motherless daughters like me are stunted in our development, pushed to maturity and independence too early in some ways. But we are also stuck in childlike tendencies and yearnings in other ways. Instead of feeling inferior, I felt liberated by this. This paved another path of acceptance, and also pride, that my childlike mindset has not affected my adult life in debilitating ways.

For me, knowledge is power. I imagine it comes from my need for control from needing to look after myself (and my brother) at such a young age. I cannot describe how relived I am in realizing a few things:

  • That I will likely grieve again, in cycles and waves, for the rest of my life. When I reach womanly milestones, I would then yearn for a mother’s presence and guidance. Like during my first period, potential pregnancy and childbirth, menopause, even being a widow, financial and career changes, and many more.
  • A few time and age-related stages will be particularly difficult, such as reaching the age my mother died (which for me is in three years), giving birth, and when my child/ren reaches my age when my mother died, which is eight years old.

This is a huge blessing that came at a perfect time. Did you know that just a few weeks ago, during my therapy session right after the election, that I told the doctor that I need a very specific support group for people like me? He was sympathetic and understanding but the referrals provided were too broad for what I am seeking. This is the next closest thing to a support group and it worked really well as a starting point. I’m super grateful for the recommendation, as this has officially marked another journey of my healing from trauma, unpacking the fallout of being an orphan.

End of the Journey of a First-Time Councillor Candidate: Repost from the Alberta Filipino Journal

Giselle outdoors in a neighbourhood holding her election flyer

By: Giselle General

Introduction: This is a re-posting of the articles I have written about my journey as an candidate for the 2021 Edmonton Municipal Elections. Politics and political participation in Edmonton will be a topic I would like to discuss on an ongoing basis, now that I had this experience. But since at this point, it has only been a month Election Day where I only got second place, I am still processing my emotions, compiling documents, and reflecting on everything I have observed and learned.

This was the third article, submitted on November 2021, but was written just two weeks after the election day. You can get a free copy of the paper, published monthly, from many Filipino-owned businesses in Edmonton. You can also everything digitally at: https://www.albertafilipinojournal.com/


The election is over for the municipal elections and I wasn’t successful in my campaign to be city councillor for the city. I came second place. Here is my preliminary reflection of the end of this journey.

Relief in safety and campaign principles

I was determined to run the campaign by following very important principles. These are: positivity, transparency, inclusiveness, collaboration, and care for community. As a result, some of the tasks in the campaign took extra time, such as properly preparing maps for volunteers, calculating fundraising numbers for the weekly social media posts, or adding subtitles to all videos for the benefit of people who are deaf. With that said, both during and after the elections, people have messaged me expressing their appreciation for my thoughtfulness. My actions made the election informative for the average person, and people from the disabled community appreciated that I went above and beyond to ensure they can access the digital content that I published.

Another key component in my campaign is safety, given the reality of COVID19 and additional risk due to Anti-Asian Racism. Many times, I played it safe by avoiding entering  homes with tall gates, not door-knocking alone, and being careful when walking through uneven landscaping and front steps. While other campaigns were door-knocking as early as March, but I waited and observed closely the COVID numbers and the impact of changes in the rules. Sure, it meant I didn’t go to as many homes, but I’m glad that throughout the campaign, I didn’t get seriously ill or injured.

Anguish at missing the goal and systemic hurdles

Just like most people in the world who are ambitious and competitive, not winning definitely hurts for me. On top of that, I felt the weight and pressure of my endeavour, as the only Filipino candidate in the entire city for any municipal seat, after the other candidate withdrew. I definitely would have been great if I achieved this important milestone for the community. My heartbreak at not winning is not just for me, it’s for the entire community.

The optimistic side of me dismissed the idea that money plays a huge role in campaigns, but seeing it firsthand gave me a wake-up call. While I’m confident that I did everything I could to have a well-run campaign, it came to a point where certain gaps can only be filled by additional funds or additional people helping. With this realization in mind, I know what I will advocate for moving forward to help those like me with passion and drive to make positive changes in government, and need just a bit more resources to be successful.

Marvel at the support, outcome, and generosity

Since I don’t have in-depth experience that seasoned politically-engaged people have, I don’t have context of the election outcome. All I know is I didn’t get enough votes and I lost. The cool thing is that many days after the election I received messages of kind words and

As it turns out, getting 5000+ votes is a remarkable accomplishment for a first time candidate, and for a budget that I have it is impressive. I am very grateful to those who have supported the campaign, from the donations, those who made time to volunteer consistently, those who gave advice.

Drive moving forward

One thing I want to make clear is that this is the end of the journey of being a first-time candidate, and not the end of the community involvement journey, and likely not the end of the political journey. If you think about it, if I run for public office, I will be a second-time candidate, with a better understanding of processes, and the unspoken rules of the political world. In the meantime, my focus is to resume all my community service activities that I am already doing to make our city better for everyone.

Update on the Journey of a First-Time Councillor Candidate – Repost from the Alberta Filipino Journal

Giselle wearing a blue top and white blazer outside in a park in Edmonton

By: Giselle General

Introduction: This is a re-posting of the articles I have written about my journey as an candidate for the 2021 Edmonton Municipal Elections. Politics and political participation in Edmonton will be a topic I would like to discuss on an ongoing basis, now that I had this experience. But since at this point, it has only been a month Election Day where I only got second place, I am still processing my emotions, compiling documents, and reflecting on everything I have observed and learned.

This was the second article, submitted on September 2021. You can get a free copy of the paper, published monthly, from many Filipino-owned businesses in Edmonton. You can also everything digitally at: https://www.albertafilipinojournal.com/


My journey of being a first-time candidate for Edmonton City Council is coming to an end on October 18, Election Day! Here my reflection of the journey of being right in the front lines of a campaign.

It is much harder than anticipated. When I first told my brother that I am running, he was scared for my safety! It made sense, given how dangerous it is to run for public office in the Philippines. I reassured him that I likely won’t get murdered here, win or lose. But that doesn’t mean that there are no dangers. As a visibly Asian woman, the risk of racists attacking me is a possibility, given the rise of Anti-Asian Hate due to COVID. There are even practical dangers, as well; many people’s stairs, entryways and landscaping are not always stable, so a slip and fall is a risk when going to thousands of homes.

The harsh reality that it takes money and connections to run for public office became evident. Expenses line up really quickly. I am running against the current councillor, who spent $84,000 in her campaign in 2017. I wondered, how can I even match that? Advertising in bus shelters are at least $1,000, billboards start at $1,500. I spent $2,500 earlier this year for flyers and $3,500 on lawn signs, as name recognition is paramount to being successful.

I see many candidates who get a lot of help, in terms of time, money, and connections, from their parents, and my heart breaks into a thousand pieces every time. It’s a painful reminder of losing my parents too soon. I tearfully wondered every time, in what way would they have helped if they are still alive? Would my parents be proud? Think their daughter is crazy for being this ambitious?

COVID is a mixed blessing when it comes to attending events and activities. Typically, in an election campaign, there is a lot of traveling involved for meetings and gatherings, and it would have taken so much time while taking public transit, or I would need to spend a lot of money taking taxis, or a lot of stress arranging rides from other people. The switch to digital for many meetings and tasks proved to be helpful.

This campaign journey is also quite incredible in many ways that continue to uplift me. As of writing this, I got $17,000 worth of donations, money sent through e-transfers and online payments as well as in-kind donations, it’s just remarkable. For many weekends in the spring and summer, people joined me in delivering flyers to neighbourhoods so I don’t have to spend money on postage. Professionals shared their skills voluntarily, from websites design, graphic design, translating my flyers, mapping routes, strategy, and more!

Another remarkable thing is connecting with people who are not within my immediate network, those who, after researching all the candidates, discovered that I have what it takes to be their next Edmonton City Councillor.

This experience opened my eyes to the simple and complex reasons why our political system is the way it is right now. I really wish that for immigrants, women, and working-class people, that running for politics is not this cumbersome. After the election this is something that I want to address, by finding a way to share all the lessons learned from this campaign journey.

This election candidacy is a journey five years in the making. I hope that by October 18, that history can be made for the sake of the Filipino community in Edmonton and in Alberta, that I can be the first Filipina-Canadian councillor that Edmonton would have.