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“Do you remember me, Cheena?” Growing up, I would hear this phrase constantly. Family is the most important thing to Filipinos, thus I had many, many relatives. Most of which, I did not remember their names. My nickname, Cheena, was born because I looked very Chinese when I was a baby. This may be because I have a little bit of Chinese blood. My dad and his dad are both named Confucius after all. However, I am fully Filipino. Growing up in the Philippines was great. My dad didn’t have work, and we would play all day. When we had enough money, we would go to the corner store and buy my favorite candy, Pochi. At home, my dad would cook me my favorite dish, Tilapia. Every night, my mom would sing ang gabi palapa to lull me to sleep. Out of everything I experienced in the Philippines, the most notable part of our culture was respecting our elders.
Every time I greeted my Lola or grandma, I would have to do the mano. The man is a sign of respect given to elders by placing their hand on your forehead. Elders were thought of to the the most wise because of their age. Also, we had to follow whatever our parents told us to do. Whether that be our career choice, who we marry, or how many kids we have, we always had to get our parent’s opinion first. Even my relatives tell me what to do. At every family dinner, I always hear the phrases “Don’t get a boyfriend yet,” and “Are you studying hard enough?’ Most Filipinos want their children to be nurses because it pays well, and has great benefits. Whenever I expressed my dream of being an actress, they would all laugh at me. However, as the years went by in America, the more accepting my family became.
According to migrationpolicy.org, “After the U.S. annexation of the Philippines in 1899, large numbers of Filipinos migrated to the United States to study or to fill agricultural jobs, primarily in California and Hawaii.” My family was part of this number. We flew to America when I was four. On my first ever plane ride, I was so dizzy I threw up in a paper bag. I was four years old, and so excited because my parents told me we were going to America to go to Disneyland. Little did I know, we were moving there. The first thing I ever did in America was drink calamansi juice made from concentrate. It was the most delicious and refreshing thing I had ever tasted. We did eventually end up going to Disneyland, but I was confused because we weren’t going home yet. When I was six years old, I asked my mom why we weren’t going back yet. She told me she got fired from her job as a teacher because she expressed an interest in moving to America. She told me that we were better off here because the education was much better, and I’d have more opportunities to succeed.
On the outside, transitioning to the American ways was fairly easy for my family. In the Philippines, English is taught in schools. So, this made it easy for my mom to find a job in America because she had an edge on everyone else. However, the hard part of the transition was the internal changes. For example, my mom got a job at a progressive private school. The school was very accepting towards everyone and had a very activist-oriented mindset. So, she was exposed to all sorts of new ideas and beliefs. This caused her to start questioning the fundamental ideas she held deep inside.
The change in my family’s values didn’t just happen instantly. Our values are usually instilled in us early on, and it’s hard to change them. However, because of the need to adapt to the new environment of the United States of America, my family started adapting their mindset. The society in the Philippines was very backward-thinking. It was the norm to be racist, homophobic, and sexist. That kind of thinking would get you in a lot of trouble in the U.S. Especially in California, we pride ourselves on being open and accepting to everyone. Because of this societal pressure, a lot of my family stopped their offensive remarks. Or at least, kept it to themselves. Even though they may have stopped verbalizing it, a lot goes on behind closed doors. While my family has gotten a lot more progressive, we still have a long way to go.
The biggest change, however, was present in the family dynamic. As I stated earlier, elders were respected, while the young ones were cast aside. However, I started noticing that my family listened to me and my cousins more. We’d sit at the dinner table, and while they were talking about politics, we were asked to pipe in instead of being told to shut up. Another huge change was that my family was way more matriarchal than patriarchal. My mom runs everything in our household, not my dad. Even my very traditional grandparents let me speak my opinion, even though they don’t necessarily agree.
Toxic masculinity and heavy reliance on the matriarch is prevalent in the Philippines. This caused my family to believe that the father is always right and that the children’s opinions don’t matter. Older people’s beliefs were respected more, solely because they lived longer, thus causing my family to put authority above all else. In the Philippines, there was no hope for a better future. The wealth you were born into was the wealth you would have for the rest of your life. Moving to America is every Filipino’s dream because it signifies that you have a chance to make it in life. To provide a better future for me, my parents decided to move us to America. Although my family used to value absolute parental authority, moving to the United States of America from the Philippines caused my family to start valuing care, and listening to their children’s needs. California, in particular, is a democratic state with an emphasis on free speech. Because of this Western influence, my family began to allow me to make my own decisions, and to value care and fairness.
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