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Network Member Profile: Billie Blanco, Ateneo Human Rights Center

Billie Blanco.

Billie Blanco leads Ateneo Human Rights Center’s flagship internship program, where law students in the Philippines gain experience in human rights advocacy and alternative lawyering. In August 2026, Billie was selected to join Pathfinders’ Young Justice Leaders program.

Introduce yourself and tell us a little about your work in the Philippines.

My name is Billie Blanco. I’m the Internship Director of the Ateneo Human Rights Center, a university-based institution engaged in the promotion and protection of human rights in the Philippines. My work primarily focuses on leading our flagship internship program, where we form law students through an immersive experience in human rights advocacy and alternative lawyering. At the heart of the program is the hope of forming lawyers for, and with, communities. My own work intersects across Indigenous Peoples’ rights, access to justice, legal empowerment, civic space, and protection of Human Rights Defenders.

But when I introduce myself to people, two things always come up: that I am passionate about human rights and Indigenous Peoples’ rights, and that I love stories. I consider myself a storyteller. There is something deeply meaningful to me about listening to stories of communities—their plight, their courage, and their hope. I find joy not only in telling these stories, but in being trusted enough to witness them. And I think that’s what drew me to working with communities: that each community has a story worth hearing, and that my work as a lawyer is, in part, to accompany communities in making sure that these stories are not erased, ignored, or told only by those in power.

What was an experience, or maybe even an individual, that inspired you to join the fight for environmental justice?

I was only 14 years old when I first went up into the mountains to immerse myself with Indigenous Peoples. It was the first time that I stepped into the ancestral land and territories of the Aetas of Gala, Zambales—and from then on, my worldview fundamentally changed.

I witnessed firsthand how they see the world not for profit, but for the land that sustains them. As I continued working with Indigenous communities over the years, I kept seeing how Indigenous Peoples are deprived of basic services and opportunities. And yet, they are doing the most to conserve and protect the environment because, for them, their identity is intrinsically tied to the land—and therefore so are their whole lives, their future, and their survival.

So, when I think about what inspired me to join the fight for environmental justice, I don’t think of just one person or one experience. I think of the communities that have trusted me with their stories and allowed me to witness their struggles and their hopes. They continue to inspire me every day.

Have you seen a particular community or campaign achieve a change that gave you hope? Tell us about it.

Community-mapping and agenda-setting activity with the Calamian Tagbanwa from the Culion Ancestral Domains in Culion, Palawan, Philippines.

In July 2026, we gathered the elders, women, and youth representatives of the Calamian Tagbanwa of Culion, Palawan, for community mapping and agenda setting. We asked each of the seven Ancestral Domains what their dream was and each of them had the same answer: Certificate of Ancestral Domain Title (CADT). They wanted to secure a formal title recognizing that the land they have lived on, cared for, and protected since time immemorial is theirs.

This was a powerful moment for me, because it was the Indigenous Peoples themselves that articulated this dream. Even after being failed by the same system over and over again, they were still willing to engage with the same system, believing that something could be done.

For the past year, we’ve been assisting the Chindunan-Alulad-Lamud-Marabal (CALM) Ancestral Domain in putting together the documentation needed for their CADT Application. And for me, seeing the community come together around that shared dream is what hope looks like. It’s hope in action.

Have there been moments when you felt discouraged or questioned whether your activism was making a difference? What helped you keep going?

As someone who was a student activist and became involved in the movements, particularly during the previous Duterte administration, I think it was only natural that there were moments when I started to question whether I was making a difference or if it was still worth it to stake against a future dictated by the unjust.

When you do organizing and advocacy work in an environment where human rights is villianized, activists are red-tagged, and the civic space is shrinking, it can be easy to fall into despair. Organizing around anger is exhausting, and carrying grief can be isolating at times.

I think what helped me keep going was learning to understand change differently. We want to see immediate wins—a policy, a case, or an institution being held accountable—but in this work, I realized that a loss is not a loss, but rather it can be a win in the long run. Change can look like a community becoming more empowered in asserting their rights, a young person finding the courage to speak, or grassroots communities made to feel that they are powerless seeing that they have a voice and people willing to stand with them.

I try to remember that “may panalo at may talo, pero walang sayang (there are wins and losses, but nothing is ever wasted).” And that my role is not to see the final win through, but to help move the work forward.

What would you say to another young person who wants to get involved in environmental justice but does not know where to start?

I would tell them: Start by listening. You don’t have to begin with an understanding of laws and frameworks on environmental justice. Start by learning about the environmental issues in your own community. Listen to the people whose lived reality has been those issues, particularly communities whose voices are often left out of the conversation.

I say this because I myself started very young. I was 14. If my years of working with Indigenous communities has taught me anything, most of the time, a lot of the issues faced by communities are because those in power have done something so simple: Listen. The most important thing you can bring to this work is not answers or solutions, but a willingness to listen and to learn.

Thinking back on your time as a member of the Network, what has been the most significant change in your work or in the work of your organization that your involvement with the Network has contributed to?

The most significant change has been the way the Network has provided me with both a community and a larger platform.

In this work, it can sometimes feel like we are fighting very difficult battles within our contexts. Being part of the Network reminds me that we are not doing the work alone. It has been simply reassuring to be part of a community of people from different parts of the world who are facing similar challenges, asking similar questions, and imagining different possibilities for justice. It has not only allowed me to learn from others, but gain a deeper sense of solidarity.

The Network has also given me a larger platform. It has allowed me to share stories of home, of the Philippines, and of communities in spaces they might not otherwise reach, while also bringing back ideas and perspectives that can hopefully contribute to bringing about a more compassionate and just world for all.

What is one thing you have learned from other Network members that you have taken back to your own community or organization?

One thing I have learned from the other Network members, particularly some of the other young people working on human rights and justice, is bravery.

I have met so many young people in the Network who continue to work for human rights and justices despite incredibly challenging and sometimes frightening circumstances. What struck me was that they were not fearless, but they continued to show up and do the work, even when they were afraid, uncertain, or struggling themselves.

They remind me not just of bravery, but of my own humanity. Working in this space can make you feel like you are not allowed to show your emotions or be afraid, be tired, to grieve, or simply not have all the answers. We are often expected to be strong. Seeing other young people be honest but persist anyway made me realize that being human is not a weakness, but it is what allows us to remain connected to why we do what we do.

Looking ahead, what would you like to see the Network do to create more opportunities for young activists to strengthen their voices in environmental justice movements?

I hope that the Network can continue to create and nurture more spaces where young people are not just invited to participate, but are given the opportunity to shape the agenda.

I would hope that the Network can continue to build connections between young activists across different countries and contexts. One of the most valuable things about being part of the Network for me has been realizing that, although we have different backgrounds and stories, there are so many things we can learn from one another.

If you could speak directly to young activists across the Grassroots Justice Network, what message would you share with them?

I am a firm believer in that we each and all have a role to play. I hope you find yours and carve out your own path in this space. 

And when you do, I hope you persist—not simply for the work, but to honor grassroots communities who are supposed to be at the center of justice. May you be relentless and be braver than ever before, because the communities we are privileged to walk alongside are nothing if not relentless and brave.


September 22, 2026 | Michael Musyoka

Region: Philippines

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