I am one week into the Bayan Student Learning Community and I am discovering so much about myself. My undergraduate and postgraduate education did not even begin to reveal my identity, and it is only now that I am reading about other Filipinos Americans and their stories.
I immigrated to this country from the Philippines and started Kindergarten without speaking a word of English. From the beginning, I was asked if I was a boy because of the bowl haircut my mother gave me even though my dress indicated otherwise. From then I learned to grow my hair long, just like all the other girls at school. I was corrected when I read out loud words like "COMforter" instead of "comFORTer". I didn't appreciate the unsolicited attention from classmates so I learned to read just like the teacher.
In high school, the only other group I looked to were the Mexicans although I kept a diverse group of friends. Through outings and social gatherings, I learned how very similar their values were to my culture: family came first, respect for elders, religion above all, and FOOD always the center. They were, however, also contrasting in other ways. While I was taught to never "rock the boat", my Spanish speaking friends spoke thier minds freely and loudly. I was drawn.
So it was no wonder that I spent many weekends during my high school senior year with my Mexican boyfriend at the time to go to visit his relatives in our neighboring counry and bordertown, Tijuana. My parents never really talked positively anyway about their homeland and there was never money to go back and visit, so I stuck to what I knew and was available.
Fast forward time, I spent a summer and separate semester studying Spanish in Mexico and fell deeply in love with the culutre and a national. We lived in Tijuana for four years, got married and crossed back when our first child was born. Spanish was necessary at work teaching first graders English and communicating with their parents.
My son is currently in a Spanish dual language immersion class for Kindergarten. We speak and do homework at home with him in Spanish. And we travel to Mexico to visit my husband's family at least twice a year. One part of my son's identity is recognizedged but the other? As I am learning the history, the struggles, and the oppression of Filipinos in the Bayan classes, I am getting to know a whole new side that has always been but never allowed to be: books, music, movies, tv, politics, sports (in addition to PacMan). I hope my children learn as much from me about who they are along this journey of rediscovery.
