The Story of Women’s Work Worldwide

I look around my store Women’s Work and I often wonder how I got here. Surrounded by handmade items made by thousands of women from over 20 countries, I can’t believe I’ve been at this for 10 years and find it even harder to believe how lucky I am to have found my purpose in life.

From when I was in 2nd grade, however, I knew I would be a writer. I loved reading and loved writing as a result. In my class, the writing assignments came from a box. We could pick the card prompt and take it from there. I remember being finished with one and asking my teacher for another and another while the other kids grumbled about the assignment; this was the best part of my day.

During a school assembly, one of my pieces was read aloud to the entire auditorium. I can still remember the story – it was about a fish that lived in a bowl that sat high atop the TV set. The fact that my teacher liked it so much she thought others would like to hear it began my pursuit to become a published writer.

I knew my purpose at an early age. It made life easy. I knew my way. And my parents were more than agreeable. Immigrant parents, new to the USA, leaving behind a difficult life in the Philippines, they embraced our new country of choice and loved that their daughter would be an English major. I saw it as my way of pleasing them and reaffirming their choice to leave their family and friends in third world Philippines for a better life in the United States.

As I grew older, I later refined/defined my goal was to be a journalist and started to see the world through newspapers and magazines. I wanted to travel around the world, telling stories about interesting people. I wanted to be a correspondent for the New York Times or Newsweek. I loved finding the truth in a story and sharing my insights.

And as my life progressed, my world expanded…one day, I’d meet the man that would change my life forever. He had just graduated from school and was accepted into the Peace Corps. He took a waitering job as he waited for them to assign him to a country…and I waitressed as I finished up my final years in college.

It all seemed so romantic. This do-gooder, going off to save the world! Of course we went into the relationship thinking we would never see each other again – he was off to Africa and I was still taking classes. So, we made good use of our time together knowing there were no strings attached – best relationship I’d ever had!

But when it came time for him to go, instead of never hearing from him, I got a letter documenting each day we were apart. And you know what? I sent a letter doing the same. Our words crisscrossed the Atlantic. We stayed connected throughout his service. Surprise, surprise, when he came home, he bought me a ring using his Peace Corps stipend.

Romantic, huh?

Not really. It was Fate.