It’s always awkward when people describe my children as “half-American/Italian and half-Filipino.” I know it’s a way of defining their race origin; that their father is Caucasian, their mother is Asian. But I don’t look at it that way. My children are Americans and Filipinos. Full, not halves. They have the best of both worlds, my husband would say. He painstakingly teaches them American History. In our home classroom, Friday Social Studies’ class is devoted to American History. From Dad, they learn football, US politics, meatloaf and lasagna and burger, Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin. They have blue passports which allow them entry to many countries.
They are also Filipinos, people of a country that’s so difficult to love. I’ve asked myself why we’re still here when we have the option to leave. Why do we have to fight when it feels like this country easily forgets the atrocities of the past? I still don’t have clear-cut answers to these questions. This may even read/sound so dramatic and the loyalists from other dimensions would say “OA, layas uy.” But I wasn’t raised to just give up. Grade 2 Civics and Culture taught me that I came from a brave race who protects what belongs to us. That lesson was even made more meaningful because I grew up in a city whose first known recorded leader successfully warded off an invader. I took all these lessons pretty seriously and they later shaped my language of love. It’s service and I’ve been doing the work as a student, youth leader, journalist, teacher, volunteer, development worker, wife, mother. I love my country and that is even more pronounced now that I have three children who look up to me. Three children who ask so many questions about WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A FILIPINO.
I answer their questions by showing them that being a Filipino is about being proud of our rich culture and heritage. Mao na nga bisan og sayon ra gyud unta magsige og Iningles, they are learning Binisayang Sugbu-anon ug Filipino. Mangaon og inun-unan, utan bisaya, monggos, buwad, mais. Manilhig, manghugas plato, mag-ampo, mangayo og katahuran.
Every Friday, we have a class on Biography. We’re currently reading about the life of Apolinario Mabini. Last quarter, we learned about Andres Bonifacio and Gabriela Silang. We learn about our collective history. Studying with them also gives me the platform to refresh my hazy memories of what transpired in the past. In Social Studies, we spend Wednesdays for Philippine History. We’re now discussing Martial Law by reading books and watching movies. The list of questions is growing and they are getting more and more serious.
A former teacher told me that I am sowing seeds of hatred in my children’s hearts by telling them lies. I was told that I should move on so we can be united. I’m tempted to follow the suggestion. But how can I and many others move on when the monstrosities of the past were never acknowledged? When justice is still not served? When the perpetrators are still free to roam around and cast more uncertainties, especially to the confused, undecided public?
But more importantly, to this mother, how can I let my children look up to people with tarnished, questionable reputations? Who enjoys comfortable arrangements at the expense of the lives of many Filipinos? How can I face my children and say, “Kani sila ‘Dong,’ Day ang mga lider nga inyong sundon.”
So mao na sya. Mao na sya ang rason why I came out to publicly support the people I am supporting now. By all means, they are not perfect. Juicekow kalami naman lang og perfect tang tanan no? But these are people who do not take the easier routes in order to be powerful. Call them lugaw, sabaw, hanggaw. But their track records speak for themselves. Engage in bardagulan, ad hominems, and black propaganda all you want but in your core, you know who should lead. These are the leaders that I’d like my children to look up to, to emulate, to inspire them to serve.
This is my first time to publicly support candidates. I’ve always been impartial and (tried to be) objective because my previous job as a journalist taught me to adhere to a code of ethics. I realized that taking a hiatus from journalism work actually accorded me the opportunity to be vocal about the advocacies I support, the people who inspire me, the brand of politics that I want to see.
So here I am with my children. Consistent as ever. Out there to speak up, stand up, and make our voices heard. Because the Philippines is worth fighting for. ALWAYS.
