My publisher, Tess Cusipag of Balita, the Filipino community newspaper in Toronto, is facing a difficult dilemma—how to balance the demands of publishing a newspaper with the need to enjoy her own life.
It was 1:25 in the afternoon on July 22. I had just finished my lunch, knowing that Tess was probably busy putting another issue of Balita to bed. Her unwavering dedication to keeping the newspaper alive in service of the Filipino community in Toronto is truly admirable.
But in a recent Facebook post, Tess shared the concerns weighing heavily on her mind. While she remains committed to publishing the paper, she admitted that she often misses out on spending time with her retired friends because of its demanding deadlines.
She explained that one of the main reasons she continues publishing Balita is to fulfill the wish of her late husband, veteran journalist Ruben Cusipag, who founded the newspaper and wanted it to continue serving the community after his passing.
“I wanted to do it,” Tess wrote, “but at my age and living alone, I am having problems keeping up with the work needed.”
She added, “Balita is now the only remaining newspaper in the community, and that also forces me to still try.”
Although she would love to travel and enjoy retirement with her friends, the newspaper’s production schedule often prevents her from doing so.
Tess also expressed her heartfelt gratitude to the writers, contributors, advertisers, and loyal friends who continue supporting Balita. She even acknowledged the people she hires to help maintain her home and keep her flowers blooming—small gestures that make everyday life a little easier.
To lessen the workload, Balita has already reduced its size from 80 pages to 72 pages.
“Rather than stop altogether,” she said, “which will disappoint our readers and my late husband, I would rather continue.”
Reading her words, I could genuinely feel her dilemma.
On one hand is her lifelong advocacy of serving the Filipino community through journalism. On the other is her personal desire to enjoy the precious years of retirement with friends and family.
Her commitment to continue publishing Balita despite the sacrifices she has made is inspiring. Yet there comes a time in everyone’s life when we must carefully weigh what truly matters.
Life is short and uncertain. None of us knows what tomorrow will bring.
Sometimes we have to ask ourselves a simple but profound question: What will bring me the greatest joy and fulfillment in the years that remain?
I was reminded of a quote by Japanese author Toshikazu Kawaguchi:
“Don’t leave anything for later. Later, the coffee gets cold. Later, you lose interest. Later, the day turns into night. Later, people grow up. Later, people grow old. Later, life goes by. Later, you regret not doing something… when you had the chance.”
Fortunately, Tess is already exploring possible options. She has openly discussed whether any of her three sons might someday take over the newspaper.
Her answer was candid.
“I was asked if any of my three boys would be able to take over Balita, and it’s a No.”
She explained that her eldest son is a Senior Executive Vice President of Investments at a major corporation in downtown Toronto. Her second son serves as a Director of Sales for another company, while her youngest is a Sales Manager at Industrial Alliance.
“On top of work, they also have their young families,” she said. “With my growing grandkids, who are my inspiration, they do not have time to work on a community newspaper.”
Still, it is encouraging that Tess has begun sharing her concerns with the community. Speaking openly about the future of Balita may eventually lead to opportunities she has not yet considered.
Perhaps there may be individuals or organizations interested in becoming partners, investing in the newspaper, or even assuming ownership while preserving its mission. Such an arrangement could allow Tess to enjoy retirement more fully—travelling with friends and spending more time with her family.
Balita is more than just a newspaper. It is an institution that has faithfully served the Filipino community for decades. It has earned the loyalty of readers, writers, contributors, and advertisers while providing fair, balanced, and meaningful news that helps unite Filipinos across the Greater Toronto Area.
For now, however, Balita is not for sale.
Tess continues to reflect carefully on the future, weighing her options and searching for the best path forward.
As things stand today, the fate of Balita remains uncertain—still hanging in the balance, awaiting the decision of the woman who has devoted so much of her life to keeping its pages alive.
