The father to the child

My youngest, Bella, recently wrote a piece about what it’s like to be Joey Concepcion’s daughter. In it, she put in writing her thoughts and observations on what makes me tick. She recounted things that I thought would have passed unnoticed, but nevertheless made a mark on her young mind. I shouldn’t be surprised, really. Bella soaks up information like a sponge. She is keenly observant and wise beyond her years. Her observations are so surprising that I sometimes forget how I must look to others. She writes:

“One of the biggest factors that helped him become who he is today is the values that he instills in himself. I would describe my dad as someone who is stubborn, impatient and always wants things done his way. Yes, these traits might give out a negative connotation but he brought the good out of it. I find that these are some of the things that make up a father that I truly know and love and what makes Joey Concepcion, Joey Concepcion.”

She goes on to recount what happened during the pandemic, how I was offered government positions but refused them, how she would tag along at our free entrepreneurship mentoring events and many other things that form my daily routine. All these things, as seen through the eyes of a young daughter.

Reading Bella’s letter, I am struck by a feeling that no boardroom victory or public accolade has ever quite replicated. It is a slow realization that the most important work I have ever done – and will ever do – is not found in the pages of a business report or the headlines of a newspaper, but in the heart and mind of my daughter.

As a father, you spend years trying to build things. You build businesses, you build organizations like Go Negosyo and you try to build a better future for your country through whatever role that is given. You operate under the assumption that you are the one doing the teaching – that by demonstrating persistence, by being “stubborn” in the face of challenges and by pushing for results, you are molding the next generation.

But reading Bella’s words, the mirror is turned. I realize that the influence a father has on his child is not a one-way street of instruction, but a collaborative dance of observation and reflection.

Bella mentions my impatience, my stubbornness and my drive. She sees these traits not as flaws, but as the engine of my mission. To hear her articulate that these qualities – which I have often worried might be misunderstood – are actually the tools I use to fight for the causes I believe in, is, to say the least, humbling. It tells me that she is watching. She is not just watching the awards or the titles; she is watching the process. She is learning that “success” is not a destination you arrive at, but a series of choices you make every single day, often when you are tired, often when people disagree with you and often when the path is unclear.

She mentions how I, at times, come into conflict with others in my field. She was in her early teens during the COVID pandemic, but it didn’t escape her attention how I had to fight tooth and nail – at the risk of being called names or openly criticized – to get vaccines to people, to get them tested, to bite the bullet and shut down businesses temporarily so we could stop the spread of the virus. Those were tough times, but I see now that the hard work and difficult decisions I had to make back then produced gifts that keep on giving. I remember how my own father’s sacrifices taught me valuable lessons in integrity and honor. And now, to be in his shoes, I am even more grateful that I am my father’s son.

The most poignant part of Bella’s letter, for me, is when she speaks about my decision to prioritize family over a government position. That was a pivotal moment in my life. It was a choice between two forms of service: service to the nation and service to my family. I chose to balance them because I realized that if I were to succeed in building a better future for the Philippines but failed to be present for the future of my own children, that success would be hollow.

Bella’s reflection reminds me that fathers are the architects of their children’s internal compasses. We influence their future not by telling them who to be, but by showing them how we handle the pressure of being who we are. When she talks about selling merchandise on Shopee at age 10 and wanting to open a bank account, I don’t just see a budding entrepreneur; I see a child who has internalized the value of action. She has learned that you don’t wait for permission to start; you start, you fail, you learn and you persist. Years after that first venture, I see that she’s still at it. She forges ahead with her businesses, she fails, she learns, she gets up again and tries harder.

If I have one hope for the future, it is not that my children follow in my professional footsteps, but that they carry the same fire for service and the same commitment to their own values. Bella’s letter proves to me that the best legacy a father can leave is not a company or a reputation, but a child who understands that the greatest rewards in life come from loving the process, fighting for what is right and always, always coming home to what matters most.

To my daughter, thank you. You have taught me more about being a father than I could ever hope to teach you about being a leader. You are the future I am fighting for.