“Ang hindi marunong lumingon sa pinangalingan ay hindi makakarating sa paroroonan.”
    [He who does not know how to look back at where he came from will never get to his destination.]
    - Jose Rizal

If you are Filipino by blood, this is for you.

Here’s the thing. This generation of Filipino-American youth have lost their heritage. We cannot blame time nor geographical differences; nor can we blame this American society that we live in. We have lost our heritage by a strong-willed choice to be depicted as a nationality that our skin is not.  The Filipino blood that runs deep in our veins has been quenched and silenced beneath our sorry attempts to fit into a mold that is neither Filipino nor American. In a sense, we have surrendered our identity to our own selfish pride and insecurity.

Who, then, are we now? Are we a sect of Filipinos who wear our hair teased atop our black eyeliner as we have no moral sense of modesty? Are we just really great dancers? Or are we emancipated orphans that the only way we learn of our motherland the Philippines is from a foreign source or a textbook? Are we so ashamed of our language and our culture that we would rather be labeled as Asian rather than Filipino?

“Ang hindi magmahal sa sariling wika, daig pa ang hayop at malansang isda.”
[He who does not love his own language is worse than an animal and smelly fish.]
    - Jose Rizal

Who are we? What are we? Definitely not Filipino anymore. We’ve become an amorphous race. We “proudly” wear red, white, blue, and yellow without knowing the depth of the meaning attached to those vibrant colors that were once drenched in blood. We scream Manny Pacquiao! and yet we know nothing of Rizal, Bonifacio, del Pilar, or Aguinaldo. We love saying “don’t hate,” when we, in all seriousness, hate ourselves. We. Hate. Ourselves.

We have denied ourselves true patriotism in exchange of some cute, watered-down “Filipino Pride” that we wear like a hand-me-down consolation medal. We wear our flag on our shirts and not in our hearts. We hang it on our rearview mirrors, yet we never truly look back to where we’ve come from.

We have been privileged to be citizens of the United States of America, a beautiful country founded on freedom and opportunity. This does not mean that we forsake our origin. Our beginnings. Our blood. If only we know the depth of the scars of liberty the Philippines has carried from decades upon decades of suffering she endured. If only we sat with our “FOB” grandparents to talk about home, as it is our home too. Our forsaken home.

As my great-grandmother beseeched me on her death bed, I now pass it on to you: “Huwag mong kalimutan na ikaw ay Pilipino.”

I beseech you, kababayan. Never forget that you are Filipino. It is the culture you will always carry and pass on to your children whether you like it or not.

Might as well love it

“My only desire is to do what is possible, what lies within my grasp, what is most necessary. I have glimpsed a little light, and I believe I should show it to my countrymen.”
    -Jose Rizal