Am I a Filipino American, or Just Plain American?
...like the American MTV generation, speak like them, and act like them. I am obviously considered an American, even when I visit the Philippines. So how does that make me the least bit Filipino? On the flip side of my life, namely, my home, I become somebody totally different. Yet, that part of my life, I still consider “myself.” I do not change because I feel I have to, but because that is who I am. As soon as I walk into the door, I “mano” (to place an elder persons hand against your forehead to ask for a blessing) my grandparents, parents, aunts, and uncles. As terrible as my Tagalog is, I still force myself to speak their language in order to improve. Fortunately, I have inherited the most wonderful part of Filipino culture: cooking the ethnic foods. Instilled in me are the traditions, values, and stories from the Philippines, and perhaps that is why I am so proud of my culture. To say that I am Filipino-American does not downplay the second half of the name. Some pro-melting-pot believers might say that I am being “’racist’… ‘petty’ or ‘un-American.’” However, I like to consider the second half of the name as something similar to a last name. Salomon is just as much a part of me as David. My last name tells people the family I came from, and David creates the individual that I am. You can tell by my mannerisms and the features on my face that my family is the Salomons, and then you notice that I am also someone totally different from them. In the same way, my family is everyone in America, and my deeper identity belongs with the Filipino culture. There is a recent issue of The Source magazine (October 2001) that contains a short article on an eighteen-year-old Korean-American named Aaron Park. Barely any of his friends were Korean, and his parents forced their culture upon him as he grew up. As a result, he became so immersed in American culture that he rejected everything Korean. His parents “still kick themselves for not spending more time with their son.” They still love him, though, unlike many Asian families who prefer to disown their Americanized offspring. Although I find no problem with him considering himself All-American, I find it sad that he probably missed out on another great culture. Even the two words that are supposed to describe my full ethnic identity do not encompass what I truly consider myself to be. My friends ...