To My Grandparents,
How did you feel when Marcos’ government fell in 1986? What went through your mind when you heard the news? Were you happy that a regime that took so much from the people was gone? As Ilocanos, were you upset that a man who began with big promises for the people was unfairly slandered by opposition forces and unlawfully deposed? Were Ferdinand and Imelda your John and Jackie Kennedy? Were the people right in their revolution? What did your families say when they sent letters, or did they mostly ask for money? I wish I had asked before you went to God’s side. I knew of you, and spent time with you, but never had the chance to really know you. I was so young, and knew nothing of death. I felt you would be around for a long time.
I wish I could have asked you about your life in the Philippines. As a young child, I never learned about our Filipino culture and our Ilocano language. Now that you are both gone, I’ll never be able to recapture your unique stories. As an adult, I can now read about the conditions Filipinos faced in early twentieth century America. Having read America is in the Heart, I can imagine a little of what you, lolo, went through on your journey to Hawaii and California. Did you, like so many pinoys, come to the United States in hopes of a better life? Did you see so little opportunity in your home that you felt a long voyage across the sea would open the doors for your success? What made you decide to purchase one hundred acres of Central Coast farmland with your brothers? How were you able to purchase the land, at a time when Filipinos were still looked at with suspicion and prejudice? So many questions, and yet so few answers.
How did you feel about your children? Were they raised to be wholly American, with so little expression or knowledge of their Filipino heritage? I know among many immigrant parents it was better to cultivate the American culture, in order to assimilate more completely, and draw less attention from the government officials who tried to expel “illegal” workers and “lawfully” exclude Filipinos from free access to all being an American national meant. Were you proud of your children? Did you feel, as so many parents do, that there was more you could have done to make them even more successful?
How did you feel about me? A third-generation Filipino American with so little knowledge or cultural ties with our family’s Filipino culture. A young person who must rely on books, secondhand stories, and friends’ families to learn anything about our Philippines. Who knew so little that, prior to this assignment, didn’t even know what the 1986 People Power Revolution referred to? I knew who Ferdinand Marcos was, but only as a dictator who styled himself a political playboy. I knew of Imelda Marcos’ shoes.
How can I recapture that narrative which, through my and my parents’ upbringing, was so quickly lost within two generations? While I feel so blessed to have unrestricted access to a wealth of virtual resources I can use to study our culture, they are not you. They are not your individual stories. How can we; young, third and fourth generation Filipino Americans with, at times, so little connection with our Filipino heritage, recover a lost history that’s so often ignored in our American and World history courses? We must ask questions and take action.
Would you, our manongs and manangs, be proud of where we have come? We have a TV show that depicts a Filipino American family sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner without over-the-top stereotypes. We fought to rename a high school after two of our most prominent, but largely forgotten, labor union warriors in Larry Itliong and Philip Vera Cruz. We produced a documentary that introduces so many of our own to the fight in Delano, and its role in the great labor battles of the twentieth century. We’ve done much but, like those who came in support of their personal values and rights as citizens on the Epifano de los Santos Avenue, there’s still much work to be done. Neither the Filipino people or we are truly free of the status quo.
Ours is not a physical conflict against an individual regime or tyrant, but a cultural struggle against anonymity in history and invisibility in society. Our conflicts are not waged in revolutionary language with great public displays, but with a quiet determination in the halls of government and behind our cameras. In speaking with you and your children, and telling or retelling the story of our people, we honor our culture and those who fight for their beliefs. We are the offspring of Filipinos, but we are also Americans. Our charge may not be to overthrow a government, but like the Revolutionaries we must change minds and hearts of others who do not know about us. We must save our cultures from disappearing into the shadows of history, lest we ourselves forget. We owe our lives to the sacrifices of men and women like you, lolo and lola. Without you, I would not be here, able to enjoy the benefits of this great country. I hope our young people are up to the challenge of honoring the lives of our grandparents and great-grandparents, and honoring the spirit of those who fought for a better life for themselves and their families on the EDSA in 1986. Though we are in different arenas, we both fight for our right to relevancy and visibility in our national stories.
To my grandparents, I hope I made you proud. I wish we had had more time to get to know each other, and share our stories with family and food. I look forward to showing you more about my life when I see you again.
Love,
Your grandson
See Positively Filipino Magazine's article on the contest here.
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