Everything, everywhere, all in May

It’s also the same month our government, in its infinite wisdom, designated National Heritage Month and Volunteerism Month via Proclamations No. 439 (2003) and 1778 (2009), respectively. That’s 31 days of celebrating culture, unpaid work, and fatigue…an interdimensional period that fits right into the world of Oscar-winning film Everything Everywhere All at Once.

Let’s start with the timing. If May is supposed to celebrate our heritage and volunteerism, why does it begin with a tribute to... labor? Not that labor is a bad thing; we do appreciate it and value our workers. If this month is a metaphor, it’s certainly starting with a backache and calluses.

But wait, there’s more.

Smack dab in the middle of these celebrations lies Mother’s Day, falling on the second Sunday of May like a lovingly wrapped reminder that no one has ever done more unpaid labor than your mom, starting with labor pains itself.

And as if Mother’s Day weren’t already a logistical triathlon consisting of the Dangwa station run, get-togethers for the family matriarch, and photo ops galore for your Viber groups to see and like, the very next morning you’re expected to wake up early to perform your civic duty by electing candidates who may have no chance in hell of winning—the ultimate act of democratic volunteerism that doubles as an exercise in futility.

At my age, I may be jaded, but I try not to be overly cynical. I even make feeble attempts to search for good intentions and silver linings.

For instance, I believe volunteerism is deeply ingrained in our Pinoy DNA. Long before the West started romanticizing “community service”—Benjamin Franklin famously founded the first volunteer fire brigade (probably because he didn’t trust his neighbors with water buckets)—we had bayanihan. This is no walk in the park. Literally carrying an entire house across town just because the residents probably need a better view of the town plaza or the public market may be one of the most selfless acts of community solidarity.

If bayanihan is the spirit of our social ethos, heritage is its heart, the core of what we are as a people. It’s the capiz windows your lola refuses to replace even when it seems ready to break every time the wind picks up, the kudkuran and batirol your cousin turned into a TikTok curiosity, the Rizal or Mabini quotes your tito uses to justify unsolicited advice to the youth. Preserving heritage is like storing old love letters—irrational, sentimental, but somehow necessary.

This month, heritage blooms in full color. Flores de Mayo, the OG flower fest, is a month-long devotion to the Virgin Mary, where people bring floral offerings to church like it’s a daily love letter written on petals. It’s quiet, pious, and fragrant—kind of like pressing “Like” on Mary’s Facebook post every day for 31 days straight.

Then comes Santacruzan, the grand finale. It’s not just a religious procession but a local Met Gala with a Marian theme. Young women in itchy, frilly gowns, all heavily made up even in this sweltering summer heat, glide through buntings (and election posters this year) along dusty barangay streets as biblical icons and local legends. Like contestants in a beauty pageant, they walk or ride on floats, waving to the crowd with a permanent smile. At the tail end: Reyna Elena holding the True Cross. Along with her son Constantine the Great, the first Christian Roman emperor, Saint Helena has cemented an esteemed position among Catholic A-listers. She’s supposed to be the belle of the ball, the most awaited figure in the long procession, but also the most maligned if she doesn’t meet expectations.

And behind all this spectacle? Volunteers: flower and candle bearers, stylists on standby in case of wardrobe malfunctions, carosa drivers, dakilang alalays with their fans, bottled water, and blotting paper, even the friends and relatives showing solid support. These are the unsung heroes of the town parades.

Which brings us back to May being—frankly—kind of exhausting.

If you think about it, volunteerism, heritage, labor, motherhood—they all glorify selflessness, culture, and human bonds. College memories of Atlas Shrugged come to mind. In Ayn Rand’s world, altruism—especially the kind that places the good of others before your own dreams of doing a fairy walk in Siquijor ala Anne Curtis—isn’t just suspicious; it’s morally bankrupt. For Rand, the notion of self-sacrifice as a virtue is a slow march toward the extinction of individuality. Does embracing all these rituals mean we’re applauding the very thing she warned us about, i.e, doing much more unpaid labor to serve some nebulous “common good”?

Perhaps, we should just quietly accept that May is our national to-do list: honor the past, keep traditions alive, volunteer for the present and the future, appreciate laborers and moms, and remember to post election day pics on Instagram—because nothing screams “patriot” more than a photo of your finger with purple ink, akin to ash on the forehead as a moral badge of Catholics at the beginning of Lent.

So this May, go forth and celebrate. Volunteer at your barangay. Visit that heritage museum you keep meaning to. Help a stranger (without filming and posting your good deed online). Learn more about our culture than the white dude who chose to become a Filipino citizen because he realized how awesome this country is. Do it all as if you’re being guided by an unseen hand instead of merely performing a duty.

And when in doubt, channel your inner Ben Franklin: light a metaphorical fire under apathy, and hope the volunteer brigade shows up in time to stop it from spreading.