One of the greatest gifts of being Fil-Am is the combined feeling of uniqueness and community it has offered me. I know it seems like it contradicts itself, but it really compliments itself greatly. I am not just one thing, just as my culture isn’t. I’m a mix, and so is my experience with being Fil-Am.
A huge part of my life has been recognizing and appreciating the community I’m a part of because of who I am— and not just community in one sense of the word. Being Fil-Am has not only connected me to groups like FANCO, but it’s allowed me to be closer to family and strangers alike. Learning about the Philippines, it’s traditions, and its culture from my mom and aunties is such a special and connecting experience. And as for strangers, I’ve made friends and bonded with people I didn’t know over our shared heritage, another example of an opportunity I have to get closer to those I otherwise wouldn’t. This sense of community, whether it’s an organization or just a conversation in passing is something I’m so glad I get to be a part of.
Being Fil-Am has not only connected me to groups like FANCO, but it’s allowed me to be closer to family and friends alike.
On the flip side, being Fil-Am has also made me feel unique, and a more empowered individual. As a kid, sometimes the lack of representation of Asian Americans in movies and shows I watched made me feel disconnected, but it mostly gave me a sense of pride. Getting to teach my friends about familial and cultural customs they’d never seen was huge to me growing up. I felt responsible for retelling stories and “keeping the culture alive”, and as funny as that sounds now, I think it was really beneficial. Being Fil-Am helped me feel confident, unique, and responsible for others’ perspectives, and it’s still something I can take pride in today.
I’ll admit though, I haven’t always felt that I could recognize and identify with this part of my identity. Growing up half white, getting more white passing as I got older, I experienced a sort of disconnect with the idea that I was POC (Person of Color). The fact that I’ve never learned the Filipino language and I have never been to visit the Philippines adds to the feeling. Especially in the last year, trying to advocate for social justice had come with an air of vagueness, where I’m not sure if I should simply identify as an ally instead of embracing all the parts of my intersectional identity. Though I’ve had my run-ins with this brand of imposter syndrome, I’m working to validate myself, my identity, and my experience. I’ve come to consciously appreciate my culture and my unique perspective of it more and more.
When all is said and done, I don’t think I could trade my experiences with being Filipino for anything in the world. We all observe and feel things so differently, and I am so grateful to have my own unique ways of being and appreciating my culture, as well as hearing others’. Growing up, being Fil-am has always been a constant, a distinct part of me that was always been there for me to embrace. I’m happy to say that now I'm more accepting of my Fil-Am identity, and I am passionate about it more than ever.
A huge part of my life has been recognizing and appreciating the community I’m a part of because of who I am— and not just community in one sense of the word. Being Fil-Am has not only connected me to groups like FANCO, but it’s allowed me to be closer to family and strangers alike. Learning about the Philippines, it’s traditions, and its culture from my mom and aunties is such a special and connecting experience. And as for strangers, I’ve made friends and bonded with people I didn’t know over our shared heritage, another example of an opportunity I have to get closer to those I otherwise wouldn’t. This sense of community, whether it’s an organization or just a conversation in passing is something I’m so glad I get to be a part of.
Being Fil-Am has not only connected me to groups like FANCO, but it’s allowed me to be closer to family and friends alike.
On the flip side, being Fil-Am has also made me feel unique, and a more empowered individual. As a kid, sometimes the lack of representation of Asian Americans in movies and shows I watched made me feel disconnected, but it mostly gave me a sense of pride. Getting to teach my friends about familial and cultural customs they’d never seen was huge to me growing up. I felt responsible for retelling stories and “keeping the culture alive”, and as funny as that sounds now, I think it was really beneficial. Being Fil-Am helped me feel confident, unique, and responsible for others’ perspectives, and it’s still something I can take pride in today.
I’ll admit though, I haven’t always felt that I could recognize and identify with this part of my identity. Growing up half white, getting more white passing as I got older, I experienced a sort of disconnect with the idea that I was POC (Person of Color). The fact that I’ve never learned the Filipino language and I have never been to visit the Philippines adds to the feeling. Especially in the last year, trying to advocate for social justice had come with an air of vagueness, where I’m not sure if I should simply identify as an ally instead of embracing all the parts of my intersectional identity. Though I’ve had my run-ins with this brand of imposter syndrome, I’m working to validate myself, my identity, and my experience. I’ve come to consciously appreciate my culture and my unique perspective of it more and more.
When all is said and done, I don’t think I could trade my experiences with being Filipino for anything in the world. We all observe and feel things so differently, and I am so grateful to have my own unique ways of being and appreciating my culture, as well as hearing others’. Growing up, being Fil-am has always been a constant, a distinct part of me that was always been there for me to embrace. I’m happy to say that now I'm more accepting of my Fil-Am identity, and I am passionate about it more than ever.
