Filipino-American Heritage Month

Photos from www.sepiaera.wordpress.com

My ancestors are from Bataan, Manila + Dumaguete. I took a trip in 2017 during the travel ban with my mom to visit her childhood home that changed my life and how I see the world forever. To Vigan, 10 hours north through the Filipino countryside, majestic rice fields and along the China Sea – like stepping back in time.

”I’ve never seen any photos of my parents as young children, so these images helped me understand their childhoods and imagine my ancestors.”

So when I discovered these photos online, it literally took my breath away. I imagined my ancestors and my parents as kids, leaving me deeply humbled seeing my history and heritage in this way for the first time ever. I couldn’t stop thinking about them.

I had no idea that a 22-hour plane ride back to my birthplace in Manila on February 2nd, 2017, two weeks into #45’s presidency and the administration’s travel ban, would lead me to a glimpse of what mattered most. It began as an 11-day trip to see my mom’s rural childhood home for the last time in her life. It soon became a quest to discover my true calling for the first time in my life.

“I was determined to connect the missing dots that would map my family’s folklore.”

My greatest hope? To capture my Filipino heritage with my aging, increasingly forgetful, feisty mom before it was too late on a once in a lifetime trip to Manila.

“To follow constellations of untold stories. To unearth trails of hidden ancestral gems sparkling in the sky from Cleveland, Ohio to Metro Manila, to the China Sea and back.”

To hear stories from my mom’s childhood and get a glimpse of my parents’ journey while my mom was still able to travel and share her memories which seemed to be fading fast. I wanted to make peace with my past and present, designing a deeper, more meaningful life purpose once and for all. (Basically Filipino-American Enlightenment 101. No pressure. And no time like the present. You know – NBD!)

“When people talk about being and living their ancestors’ wildest dreams, I can relate…”

It’s hard to explain to your classmates during the holidays when you’re a second-grader growing up in rural Ohio that you have grandparents whom you’ve never met a world away who don’t speak English. Or why you have white rice at Thanksgiving along with pancit (a rice noodle dish - my favorite!) and egg rolls.

Married to my maternal grandmother Marina bearing their eight children, my grandfather Antonio Solomon was the mayor of his Bataan province and a watermelon farmer. As the story has been told, he had the only car in the village that he would loan out for weddings and celebrations. My paternal grandfather, Pio Lauengco, was a doctor who was spared his life because he treated WWII soldiers and prisoners – American, Filipino and Japanese – with the same respect for all human life beyond race. His wife, my paternal grandmother Isabel, had 13 children.

“I’m always deeply humbled thinking about my grandparents’ generosity and selflessness, and how they stayed on the family farms to care for the land making way for their siblings go to college in hopes of a different life…”

Following in their footsteps and in the same spirit of service, my dad came to start his clinic in the U.S. with the same dream for his family and me. I love this photo and series, reminding me of all of my family history and the sacrifices made before me - for me.

What trip has changed your life? When you think of your ancestors, what sacrifices come to mind? What stories will you leave behind in their honor?