Filipina HERstory
Illustrations by Nicolette Bautista + Original Post from Cambio & Co. / Mikaela Lucido
Illustrations by Nicolette Bautista + Original Post from Cambio & Co. / Mikaela Lucido
I was doing research on Filipino American Heritage Month recently and found that I really didn’t know where to begin to put “this” into context for me. How to frame what “Filipino American” means to me and for my own second generation kid. Growing up, there was less of an emphasis on getting back to our roots, perhaps because my parents were too busy working hard, being practical and wanting us (and them) to assimilate to being “American”… but, ‘ya know… not “too” American. It was always confusing. And frankly, it still is, trying to figure out how to fill out or fit in a “box” – like the ones on the 2020 Census.
I recently completed the US Census. Just for fun, I clicked the screen language option for Filipino / Tagalog to show my second generation son what that might look like and feel like. (Some days, I do feel like I have a toggle switch that turns on and off – if only it were that simple!) We clicked on the other languages, too, as a point of comparison, trying Russian, Polish, Chinese, Spanish and Portuguese, since we have friends from those countries. (Always a teaching mom moment my son pointed out as he rolled his eyes. Yep!) These types of forms force you to choose this OR that, versus this AND that. I of course put Filipino as my primary identity. My son? Well, as they say, it’s complicated. How does he identify culturally most of the time? Is he a product of his environment or genes?
“I asked him to fill out his “kid” portion on the 2020 Census to see the screen interface and to understand the value and privilege of being seen, counted and heard in a free democracy in action…”
Honestly, I think he just wanted to get back to his XBOX with his friends. We filled out the online form together, toggling back and forth between languages and cultures. We’d been talking a lot lately about freedoms and rights here at home and abroad, and democracy and advocacy in action. And how the stories we tell ourselves, the stories we inherit, and the stories that define and follow us shape our experiences. Which is why voting and filling out the Census seemed especially symbolic.
The first Asian racial category for the Census was introduced nationwide in 1870 with “Chinese,” reflecting the Chinese labor force who came as immigrants to work on the Central Pacific Railroad.
“In 1910, ‘Other’ was offered as a race category for the first time, with the vast majority of those who selected it identifying as Korean, Filipino and Asian Indian.”
“Other” or “Some other race” was later introduced to expand and include a broader range of races and Asian racial categories. From 1920 to 1940, Asian Indians were called “Hindus”, regardless of their religion. Beginning in 2000, people could choose from six different Asian group check boxes in addition to “Other Asian,” with a write-in option in a specific group. I always would pause filling out any questionnaire regarding racial identity given my blended heritage. It was fascinating to learn about the Census and how the form has evolved to reflect changing immigration dynamics and what it means to be “American” in real time.
I still remember becoming a naturalized citizen when I was around my son’s age. I was excused from school to drive forty-five minutes with our whole family down Airport Highway to the City Hall in downtown Toledo, Ohio. My sister and I were the youngest ones. I remember seeing lots of people sitting in the large, make-shift folding chairs section for “new citizens” like us, getting emotional while carrying small American flags and flags from their home countries. I also remember thinking…”Hey, this must be kind of a big deal. Everyone, men and women, are in blazers!” It was the ‘80’s. Funny the things you remember as a kid.
Having blended East-meets-West heritages and homelands create a sliding door sense of cultural identities. It can make it tough to define or describe who we are and how we show up as first and second generation Filipino Americans, questioning what “history” and “identity” really means right now.
Which is why it was so inspiring and refreshing to come across this wonderful post about female Filipinos who changed the course of history. What I found universal is that bravery, courage, and feminism – humanism – is universal in every culture and language.
7 Filipinas In History I Wish I Learned About In School
Take Agueda Kahabagan, “Henerala Agueda” for example (Filipina Number 2 on the list.)
As Kumander (Commander) Liwayway, Remedios Paraiso-Gomez, she joined the revolution at twenty-two after her father’s brutal murder. As a beauty queen from Hukbong Bayan Laban sa Hapon (Hukbalahap) fighting in the guerilla movement against the Japanese occupation, she was in charge of her own squad and defiantly wore a bold red lip, telling her troops and the world:
“One of the things I am fighting for…is the right to be myself.”
Another universal right and truth in any culture and language. Here’s to cherishing, learning and being grateful for your own blended history, homelands and heritages. I’m not so sure if my son will remember filling out the 2020 Census and reflect on what it means to be “American” – but I know I will. Every. Single. Day.
