Fil-Am

I've been struggling to start this post for some time now, essentially since our last visit to Rockford. The effort was renewed after my family's visit here. It has many tangents, questions, and points - all intertwined into an entry that I just can't formulate.

The question is: How do I give my children the cultural inheritance, knowledge, and appreciation of being Filipino, when I, myself didn't have any of those things until much later in life? And, now that I'm here, wanting to give my children those things, I'm completely removed from all the things that represent the Filipino side of me.

I suppose that's the challenge of growing up, first-generation, in America. My parents moved here, hoping to give us all the opportunities that come with growing up in the U.S. Without ever having been here, my mother packed up her few belongings and set herself on a journey that she couldn't possibly imagine. Not to mention, she left her husband behind after only a short time of marriage, to start the citizenship application process that could take many months. (I feel fortunate that my mom's dad served in the U.S. Military and therefore she and her siblings were "given" U.S. Citizenship and could come over easily to America.) It's the classic immigrant story - one that I admire and can appreciate.

Growing up, I was exposed to everything "American" through school, while at home, I was raised in a very traditional Filipino household. I was teased for all the stereotypical Asian things - knowing karate (which I don't), my slanted eyes, playing the violin (which I don't), being short, brown-skinned, being good at math (which I'm not), and of course speaking funny (which I didn't). It all seems incredibly silly - but at the time, I was very sensitive about it all. It's hard to distinguish now, but I suppose it was a combination of purposeful act and subconscious act that I clung to all things "American" - activities, language, expectations, childhood - and ignored all things Filipino. Maybe I didn't ignore, but I certainly didn't embrace it, either.

I can't imagine that raising me was easy for my parents. In their eyes, I probably rebelled against Filipino child-rearing principles and insisted on being allowed to do the things the other kids were doing. They struggled between wanting me to have "normal" childhood/teen experiences and their own comfort level.

I didn't really have any Filipino school friends and I never did date a Filipino boy -- both of which would have made my parents so much more comfortable through it all. Instead, I found myself surrounded by blond-haired, blue eyed kids year after year. If you look at every picture of me and friends, dates, dances - I'm always the only Asian chic. I never learned to cook traditional Filipino dishes and I didn't learn to speak the language. Filipino history? Nope, didn't learn that either. (Yikes! I'm a disgrace!)

So, anyway, in my adulthood and growing maturity, I've begun to realize the importance of my Filipino heritage. My last few visits with my family have been wonderful - quirky, but wonderful - and I just wish Bella (and BH2, 3, and 4) could grow up around them and be immersed in the culture. Maybe they'd have a chance at learning the Filipino cuisine or learning the language.

So, it's one of my new missions - must. learn. to. be. more. Filipino. So that I can give some "Pinoy pride" to my kids.