First off let me say that I was born to a Filipino Family. My mother, father, and my brother were all born and raised in the Philippines, as well as all my aunts, uncles and several of my older cousins. As a result, when they all moved to America, they moved into a small Filipino neighborhood here in Hollis, NY. This soon came to be my neighborhood. As I was raised there, I inevitably became immersed in the Filipino culture. As a child, if anyone asked, I was Filipino. I wouldn’t even tell them that I was Filipino American. When famous Filipino boxer Manny Pacquiao, won his matches, I applauded and cheered like a fan of a team that won the Superbowl. When a famous musician or actor appeared in a movie or song, I always barked to my friends about how my people were so awesome. I took pride in everything Filipino.
However, everything is different now that I’m older. I realize that I’ve never been to the Philippines nor do I know of its history. Embarrassingly enough, during a review session in my U.S. History class, my teacher randomly asked me what the independence day was for the Philippines, and I humiliatingly sat in silence with the “I don’t know” gesture. Heck, I can barely speak the language! This all raises the question: Am I really Filipino?
The answer to that question is yes. I am Filipino by ethnicity. I understand the culture, the language (despite being unable to speak it), and all the habits and subcultures. But because I understand these things does not necessarily mean I am Filipino. Culturally, I am American. I was born and raised with Filipino values and traditions, but I grew up in America. I went to an American school, watched American television, played American games, and listened to American music. I know American history, sympathize with American people, and celebrate American heroes and traditions. I belong to the American community.
One of the most important icons in the American community is the statue of liberty. The statue of liberty is representative of our freedom and our pursuit of happiness. Lady liberty is forever standing in New York, greeting those that come in. A long time ago, when immigrants sailed into the harbor, the Statue of Liberty came to be their beacon of hope. When they saw the statue, they knew that they were in America and that a new life of opportunity awaited them. In films that depict the end of civilization or the destruction of modern society, the director often chooses to show a sunken Statue of Liberty. They do this because the statue represents America itself.
Now when someone asks me what I am, I tell them that I’m American. Of course, right after we both laugh it off, I tell them that I am Filipino. I still believe that I belong to both. I am, rightly named, Filipino-American. I still take pride in my Filipino background, and I still cheer like a fool when Manny Pacquiao gets a win. I celebrate both Filipino and American traditions, and I embrace both cultures. As so, I’ve adopted the unique language of “Taglish,” (Tagalog and English!) something I can use to jokingly communicate to those like me. Maybe I’m just a confused individual. Either way, I know who I associate with, and I know who my family is. Put together, it’s just good ‘ol wonderful cultural diffusion.
