Hope Does Not Follow a Calendar

By Joe Larano Jr.

By the time winter loosens its grip on Vancouver and the months quietly move forward, many Filipino immigrants find themselves returning to a familiar moment of reflection. It does not require a new calendar or public celebration. Often, it happens in silence sitting by a window, a cup of coffee slowly cooling, thoughts drifting back to the long road already traveled.

It is rarely an easy road. It is shaped by night shifts and survival jobs, by homesickness and the constant pressure to do better for family left behind or growing alongside us. Yet it is also marked by patience, faith, and a steady belief that progress is possible, even when it comes slowly.

For overseas Filipino workers and immigrants in Canada, meaningful planning does not belong to a specific season. It happens whenever life demands recalibration. Goals are not declared loudly; they are written carefully. Save a little more. Learn one more skill. Apply again, even after rejection. These quiet decisions become anchors that help us move forward when the path feels uncertain.

Consider the story of Roddie Oriente, a forty-year-old I.T. professional now working for a software development firm in Burnaby. His current workspace is filled with computer screens, conference coffee mugs, and family photos. This is a picture of stability many aspire to. But this was not where his journey began.

When Roddie arrived in Canada more than a decade ago, his professional credentials from the Philippines did not immediately open doors. Like many newcomers, he started where opportunities were available, not where his degree pointed. He cleaned offices at night and stocked shelves at dawn, often running on very little sleep. There were moments of doubt, when the cold felt heavier and the distance from home more profound.

What sustained him was a quiet commitment to his passion for technology. He enrolled part-time at a community college, studied online, practiced coding late into the night, and slowly built a portfolio. Exhaustion was constant, but so was resolve. He reminded himself that this stage was temporary.

Roddie eventually moved from cleaning jobs into entry-level tech support, then into short-term contracts that paid modestly but expanded his skills. Rejections were frequent. Emails beginning with “we regret to inform you” became all too familiar. Still, he continued to set personal targets: upgrade skills, apply consistently, and remain open to learning.

That habit of intentional planning was done not because it was a new year, but because it was necessary to keep him grounded. Last year, his persistence paid off. A software development firm in Burnaby offered him a position that recognized both his skills and his journey. Today, he contributes to application and software projects used by companies across Canada. His income now allows him not only to support his family, but also to save, to plan, and to dream with greater confidence.

This is the shared experience of many Pinoys abroad. We do not erase our hardships; we carry them as proof of endurance. We plan not because life is easy, but because direction matters and no matter what month it is.

To every “kababayan” in British Columbia and beyond, whether you work in healthcare, construction, hospitality, or are working toward returning to your profession, know this: progress does not wait for January. Sit down when you are ready. Reflect. Write your goals. Trust that your sacrifices have purpose. Like Roddie, your present may not yet resemble your dream. But with patience, perseverance, and belief in your own worth, each step forward brings you closer to the life you once imagined. (Contact: jblarano@gmil.com)