#fahm2016

Meet Jose Miguel Esteban, a sophomore at Boston University. He identifies as a Filipino/Filipino-American and grew up in a setting that emphasized the Filipino culture.

What are you most proud of as a Filipino/Filipino-American? “The connections I made to all of the other Filipinos that became part of my life.”

For those not from the Philippines, have you ever been to there? Tell a story or favorite memory from you visit! “Waking up at 5 am with my cousin to go and get taho from the guys who would walk up and down the beaches at sunrise.”

Tell us about someone who has had a big influence in your life. “Although not the most influential person... Casey Neistat- He is a constant reminder to pursue what you are passionate about it and to bust your ass to get to where you want to be.”

Can you tell us about one of your most difficult memories? “Realizing that one day, I may have to give up some of my passions in pursuit of a career.”

Where do you see yourself in 10 years? “Either working in a biomedical engineering firm, volunteering/working in a place where they need biomedical help more than here, or exploring the world filming and photographing.”

What traditions have been passed down your family? “FAMILY FIRST. ALWAYS. NO MATTER WHAT.”

Describe your immediate/household family. “I have a twin sister who is a dance major, my parents, who are doctors, and my dog(the most adorable thing in the universe).”

Do you have any stories involving your older/deceased ancestors? “When I was very little, around 4 or 5, before my Lolo passed away, he used to always tell me stories of how he grew up in the Philippines(something I realize my dad does now too), and he used to always tell this story of how when he was young he once shot a snake out of a tree in his backyard... I always imagined it happening with American and Japanese fighter planes flying overhead... And I would always sneak into my granparents' room at 6:30 am and I would jump on their bed and wake them up and I would bring my little model WWII planes and we would pretend dogfight, and he would tell me all these stories about him growing up during that time, and it would always amaze me.”

Meet Cristina Silvestre, a junior at Boston University. She identifies as a Filipino/Filipino-American and grew up in a setting that emphasized the Filipino culture.

What are you most proud of as a Filipino/Filipino-American? "Being able to truly connect with my filipino roots!"

Is religion important in your household? Describe a situation illustrating why or why not? "Religion is definitely important in my household. Without fail I'm always going to mass on sundays (even when I'm away from home). Prayer is just such a big thing for my family too."

For those not from the Philippines, have you ever been to there? Tell a story or favorite memory from you visit! "I've definitely been to the Philippines, I'm actually going back to the motherland for new years!"

What do you feel most grateful for in your life? "I feel most grateful for the older generation who came to America and was able to pave a path for my cousins and I."

Tell us about someone who has had a big influence in your life. "My grandmother is definitely the backbone of my family, she's the one who keeps us all in check and even though my sister and I are second generation, our lola really emphasizes the importance of keeping in touch with our filipino culture."

Can you tell us about one of your most difficult memories? "My most difficult memory was losing my pet last October. She was pretty old, 15 years, and that summer before she passed away I could tell her health was deteriorating. It was a sunday night around 6 or 7 and I got a phone call from home telling me to say goodbye to her. I was so distraught and everything seemed unreal that the next thing I knew I was running to the Charles River. I just stood out there in the cold rain trying to make sense of what was happening and nothing added up. It was that day that I took out my rosary and just started praying religiously for the next 40 days."

What has been one of your biggest regrets in life so far? "My biggest regret was not taking that semester off because I really wanted to be home when she passed away."

Describe your immediate/household family. "So there's my Lolo and Lola, my Ninong, my little sister, and my mom!"

What does it mean to be successful in your family? "Having food on the table is one thing that means success for us. Another, is when everyone is healthy - nobody is sick, and we are all happy and just enjoying life to its fullest."

Describe the grandparent you are most attached to and the relationship you have with him/her. "I'm definitely most attached to my Lolo. We never fight, we always joke around with each other. In many ways I feel as if we are the same person because we like to pick on everyone in the house and our jokes are just really weird and out there that you don't even see it coming (that's what makes it funny). Without saying anything we can pick up on what the other is feeling. My Lolo was always around to watch me when I was younger because he's an engineer so his work schedule was during the daytime. When you're living in a household where the majority is in the medical field and their work schedule is usually the afternoon and night shifts the house gets quiet, so my Lolo would sit around the dinner table and play either the beatles, the beegees, or michael jackson all throughout the house and we'd just dance and play board games (connect 4 and dots was our OG games). He's always there when I need him. I know I can always count on him for anything - we may not always agree on certain life decisions but he respects the choices that I make and I'm just lucky to have such a quirky, hardworking diy man in my life that I get to call my Lolo."

Meet Dale Maglalang, a student at Boston College School of Social Work. He identifies as a Filipino/Filipino-American and grew up in a setting that emphasized the Filipino culture.

What are you most proud of as a Filipino/Filipino-American? "As a Filipinx American, I am proud of the resilience of the Filipinx American community in the U.S. We have had a long history of Filipinx American presence in the country as early as 1587 when Luzon Indios landed in Morro Bay, CA. Furthermore, we have contributed significantly to the cannery industry in Alaska, the agriculture industry in California, and the shrimp industry in Louisiana, to name a few. We have been part of major movements from the establishment of Ethnic Studies at San Francisco State University, leading the Delano grape strike that led to the creation of the United Farm Workers (UFW), and the struggle to keep the International Hotel (I-Hotel) in San Francisco, CA where many manongs/manangs were residing. Despite the oppression and discrimination that many Filipinx Americans faced, our community continues to maintain its roots and make waves in the country. Nevertheless, it is imperative that we remain critical of the current condition of Filipinx Americans where many are still dealing with wage-theft, human trafficking, abuse, gentrification, etc. It is our duty to work alongside our community and use our voices to address issues facing Filipinx Americans."

What challenges did you face, growing up as a Filipino/Filipino-American? "When I immigrated to the U.S. at the age of 12 years old, I went through an identity crisis feeling ashamed of being Filipinx American. I think it was a result of dealing with the constant micro-aggressions I would encounter everyday and what was being shown in mainstream media. Moreover, it was difficult to relate to what I was learning in my classes where often times Filipinx Americans were reduced to one paragraph in our hxstory books. Fortunately, I had a strong group of Filipinx American friends and was outreached to by UCLA SPACE (Samahang Pilipino Advancing Community Empowerment) in high school where I learned about Filipinx American history and the importance of higher education. I began taking Asian American Studies classes at UC Davis, where I eventually majored in and earned a master's degree in, and become involved with the Filipinx American and the larger Asian American communities on campus. I was able to gain a better sense of who I am as a Filipinx American and my purpose because of these spaces."

Did you grow up in the Philippines? If so, when did you move to the US and describe your transition. "I was born in the Philippines and moved to the U.S. when I was 12 years old. I was fortunate to live in Echo Park in Los Angeles, also known as Historic Filipinotown (HiFi), and be surrounded by a diverse working class immigrant community. I remember initially living in a one bedroom apartment with two other families and sleeping on the couch for many years. I didn't get my first bed until my freshman year of college. My parents worked multiple jobs, they still do up to this day. Although the transition was a struggle, looking back now it made it easier knowing that I was able to retain my Filipinx culture and have access to the food, language, and community that I was familiar with. It's unfortunate that Echo Park is currently going through hyper gentrification and many of the working class Filipinx Americans and Latinx Americans are being priced out of the area."

What is one thing you want to do in the next four years? "In the next four years, I hope to finish my PhD program in Social Work at BC. "

Where do you see yourself in 10 years? "In 10 years, I hope to be a professor in Social Work and/or Asian American Studies. I am interested in working on community-led research and interventions with marginalized populations and based on our research findings, create sustainable policies, programs, and services that will positively benefit and empower underrepresented groups."

Meet Ryan Rudolph H. Galindo, an alumnus of Boston University. He identifies as a Filipino/Filipino-American and grew up in a setting that emphasized the Filipino culture

Did you grow up in the Philippines? If so, when did you move to the US and describe your transition. "I was born in the Philippines and lived there until I was about three years old before I moved to Guam, where I grew up. I can only remember small, vague details of my migration.

My mother packing our suitcases. My family coddling me in the days leading to our departure. The huge send-off get-together full of family, friends, and neighbors bidding us goodbye. Snippets of the 10+ hour overnight bus ride from Ilocos Sur to Manila. Gazing out my plane’s window, staring at the clouds, my multi-colored propeller cap sitting on my head. My father and aunt picking us up at the airport.

I remember my aunt sharing an anecdote with me when I visited her in Orlando where she now resides with my cousins: I kept looking for the jeepneys, tricycles, and pop-up fishball stands I was very much accustomed to back in the province. And, unsurprisingly, I’d always ask for my other aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, and grandparents that I had left behind.

I did not fully comprehend back then how large of a transition moving to Guam would be, but it is a part of my history that I constantly revisit. Like many 1.5 generation immigrants, I wonder about how differently my life would’ve played out if I stayed. I think about what my parents had gone through when they prepared for this change. My father made the transition first so he could get all the basic necessities settled and ready for my mom and myself. My mother is a teacher and she taught me English as soon as I could speak. By the time I moved to Guam, I was as fluent in English as well as Ilokano and Tagalog as any three-year-old would be in any of the three languages individually. The transition, in retrospect, was effortless because I was young, understood little at the time, and was prepared for this huge change by my parents."

Describe a drastic change in your life that affected who you are today. "When I was a senior in college, I spent a semester abroad in Geneva. French is the dominant language in that part of Switzerland. At the time, I knew zero French. It was a struggle to learn the language and function as a basic human being while I was abroad.  Getting lost in a city and attempting to muster up whatever French I can recall from class to ask for help is humbling. Even more humbling is having people realize you know very little of their language and attempt to help you find your way with the little English they do know.

When I moved to Guam, I started using Tagalog and Ilokano less frequently, and eventually, I forgot how to speak them altogether. Thankfully, my parents would talk to me in both Tagalog and Ilokano, and because Guam has a huge population of Filipinos, I grew up exposed to the languages. Though I could no longer speak them, I still can fluently understand.

I met a couple of Filipinos abroad--a majority of them first-generation immigrants--so the only language they were adept in aside from Tagalog or their dialect is their receiving country's and it pained me that I couldn’t interact with them because I forgot how to speak our language.

I traveled to Milan and was hosted by my aunt and her three children, all of whom were around my age, give or take a few years. It was my first time meeting all of them. My aunt had been living in Milan for years and my cousins were born and raised in the city, so they were Italian through and through. My cousins knew as much English as I knew Italian: basically none; so my aunt--bless her--had to act as our noble translator. She knew I understood Tagalog and Ilokano, so I told her she could speak to me in either of the two languages since she wasn’t too comfortable using English and I can muster up whatever Taglish I could in response to her. Over dinner my cousins would speak in Italian, a conversation which my aunt would politely (for my sake) attempt to translate to English, only to realize it was futile and revert to Ilokano. Then I’d respond in some broken Tagalog-Ilokano-English word vomit which my aunt would try to piece together like some detective to translate for my cousins. It was pretty funny, I’d have to admit.

I didn’t get to know my cousins as well as I wanted during my short stay for obvious reasons, but the whole experience had me wondering what sort of connections and stories have eluded me as I was growing up because of my inability to converse in my mother tongue.

My reflections over my time abroad revolved around a recurring theme: the immigrant experience. For the first time in my life, I had an idea, though admittedly slim, of what my parents, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, and every other first-generation immigrant in the world has gone through. There was the confusion, the language barrier, the exasperation of a few folks who could not entertain my subpar translation of a question. I was in a land that was not mine, and I had to adhere to a culture that was different from mine while attempting to preserve my identity."

Do you have any stories involving your older/deceased ancestors? "I took a class called "Death and Immortality" in my last semester of college wherein we discussed the process of dying as well as how we process death. This roused my interest in how immigrants deal with loss, especially from oceans away. How do loved ones decide whether to make the trip back to their homeland for funerals or emergencies? Impromptu travel is not inexpensive, so how do they choose who gets to go? How is grief addressed from afar?

I think about the many family members and friends in the Philippines who have passed. My parents would always tell me when someone had died by asking me, “Do you remember ___? They passed away yesterday.” And they’d tell me stories about them. About the time she took my mother in her care and raised her. About the time he used to babysit me as a child and pick me up in his arms. The nicknames they gave me. About how much they worked for so little. All these stories are nothing short of inspiring and it’s a shame that I cannot remember the people who take credit for them.

My mother’s father passed away when I was about nine. It was January, the month I was born, and I was getting ready to receive my first holy communion in a matter of days. I don’t quite remember how my mom broke the news to me nor my younger sister but I do recall being offered condolences by friends who heard the news of his passing. My mom left for the Philippines on her own for the funeral; my father, sister, and I stayed. If I sound detached, it’s because I was. My memories of my grandfather are scarce. Although I’d visited the Philippines twice since I moved to Guam by the time he died, I didn’t have much opportunity to get to know my grandfather. As a young kid, it was difficult for me to feel grief for a man I barely knew.

Grief is a funny thing that creeps up on you when you least expect it and I feel its force so saliently now as an adult. I will never know my grandfather, the man who brought up eight children, and the man whom my mother, my heroine, admired. I have no memory of his scent or the sound of his voice. I do not know where he is buried. As much as I accept death as an inevitable and permanent part of life, I find myself grieving not only for my grandfather’s passing but also for what I did not have, what I do not have, and what I will never have: a relationship with him.

Growing up, I would frequently leave out my middle initial, H. The other kids thought it sounded weird and upon learning of what it stands for, people frequently assume that I made a typo. "Did you mean to write, 'Hernandez'?" No, it's "Hernaez." It is my mom's maiden name, which she inherited from her father. Now I never leave out the H. It is my name. And, in the most basic sense, the one thing I have left of my grandfather."

Is having a knowledge of family history important? Why or why not? "There is a saying: “No history, no self. Know history, know self.”

Meet Shirley Peng, a senior at Boston College. She identifies as neither Filipino nor Filipino-American. 

How did you become involved in the Filipino-American community? "A couple years ago when my mom left I went to a local church where I found my Filipino family. I was able to find my mother figure at that church. She took care of me. She showed me what pamilya meant. She took me in as part of her family. When I got to Boston College I decided to be a part of PSBC and it was one of the best college decision I have made because at PSBC i found the most genuine friendship!"

What do you feel most grateful for in your life? "My friends and family."

Can you tell us about one of your most difficult memories? "One of my friend passing away."

Meet Noah Hizon, a Sophomore at Northeastern University! Noah identifies as a Filipino/Filipino-American who grew up in a setting that emphasized the Filipino culture.

What are you most proud of as a Filipino/Filipino-American?

I will always appreciate the Filipino communities I was able to join through Northeastern and my hometown. Through our common identity and shared values, it wasn't hard for me to create lasting bonds with them that would transcend the boundary from schoolmates and acquaintances to family members.

What challenges did you face, growing up as a Filipino/Filipino-American?

Throughout my life before Northeastern, I was always a minority, due to the lack of Filipinos in my social environment. At times, it was hard to take pride in my culture, when there would be nobody to share it with. I had a good friend group in middle school, but I could never relate to them when they talked about their experiences, like what they had for dinner last night, or what shows they watched together as a family. I was close with my friends, but there was always a noticeable distance between us. During middle school, people would also  poke fun at the fact that I was Asian,  and I was always mislabeled as being Chinese. When I would correct them, and say I was Filipino, I would always get replies like, "what even is that?". I remembered becoming so exasperated, to the point where I wouldn't even bother correcting them anymore. Looking back, it was hard to see how one middle school kid could combat the waves of ignorance from my peers.

For those not from the Philippines, have you ever been to there? Tell a story or favorite memory from you visit!

The last time I went to the Philippines, Summer 2013, I visited my cousins in Malabon City. My older cousin asked me if I wanted to play basketball with him and his friends at a local court. He said he would let me borrow his OG Kobe (probably fake) Lakers jersey to play, which fit me like a dress. I didn't have the worst ball handles, but I most definitely didn't have the best handles either. I went anyways, and thought to myself, how good could they possibly be?  When I got there, I got crossed up so badly they started calling me Tatay on the court. I remember going back to our home that night drenched in sweat, instantly passing out on the couch. 

What is one thing you want to do in the next four years?

Become a legendary dancer

What do you feel most grateful for in your life?

Generic, but family over everything

Tell us about someone who has had a big influence in your life.

I went to my Tito Eddie's house in California this past summer, and I never expected the visit to change me the way it did. After we all had dinner, him, my dad, and I all sat at an outdoor table drinking grape juice (lol) and we talked about my dad, and what he was like when he was younger. He told me that my dad was a diligent, passionate individual, who passed the engineering board exam in 1 try, and who always experimented with new recipes after school. We also talked about Tito Eddie's kids and the great relationship, or friendship that he had with them. It made me look at what I had with my dad, and I realized that I should attempt to become closer with him. I only have my one dad, and I am an only child, so I should do my best to make him proud. It's kind of sad that it took me a conversation with my uncle to realize what my relationship with my dad should ideally be like, but I'll always be grateful that I had that conversation with Tito Eddie in the first place.

Describe the happiest moment of your life.

Performing on stage for the last time with my high school team Kinaesthetics

What has been one of your biggest regrets in life so far?

Not going to Rutgers (lol, kidding mostly)

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

Happy and successful

Describe your immediate/household family.

I have a mom and dad.

What does it mean to be successful in your family?

Having a good job that involves engineering or becoming a nurse. That's not my definition of success, however. 

Who are the relative(s) you are closest with?

Mom.

Do you have any stories involving your older/deceased ancestors?

Both of my great grandparents were named Ignacio

Is having a knowledge of family history important? Why or why not?

Shoutout to Joshua Abalos, the President of Umass Boston’s Hoy Pinoy! Joshua identifies himself as a Filipino/Filipino-American who grew up in a setting that emphasized the Filipino culture.

What are you most proud of as a Filipino/Filipino-American?

I am proud of our very pride. Pinoy Pride. That despite being colonized essentially twice, by the Spanish and then by America, despite being from different ethnicities, different backgrounds, despite being so many thousands of miles removed from our homeland, we still cling to the things our parents taught us, and not only accept them but embrace. Who are we as Filipino-Americans? 

In the US, despite many of us being considered by whites (and sometimes even other POC) as foreigners, outsiders, aliens, minorities, or whatever, we are actually, along with every immigrant who has ever contributed to this nation, the backbone of this country. This is a nation of immigrants. And it is the culture that we bring with us to this land of opportunity that helps us stake our claim in the amalgam that is our United States. In a nation that has historically refused to treat all its denizens equally, in a nation that has many hard years to come, we continue to persevere in claiming that by our very existence, our way of life is no worse nor any better than those that have come from Europe, or any other land full of peoples that would lay waste to our name. 

And not only in the ways that just we are, but I am also proud of the ways in which we come together. Despite us adolescents being so busy trying to study and just figuring out how to be adults, still figuring out who we are, we find the time to seek each other out, as though we weren't sick of all the fiestas we had growing up, of all the titos and titas, and the chismis, and the corniness, and the difficulty of just being different. And we don't shy away from it. We revel in it. Just next week, District 1 is hosting a line-dancing social, and I am looking forward to that. I was so sick of it as a child, but now I miss it. This is part of who I am. Whether or not we grew up here in the States or in the Philippines, whether or not we are "part-", "half-", or "full-" Filipino, there is that allure. We seek it out: family. I am proud of us. 

That together, we can make a better future, not just for ourselves, but for our neighbors, our children. That despite all the hardships, despite our differences, we recognize each other as kin, and strive towards just being ourselves. And for us here in the States, "Filipino-" will always be part of who we are. 

No matter what any foul, ill-tempered president says about us.

Is religion important in your household? Describe a situation illustrating why or why not?

Religion is the most important thing in my household. Second is success. My house is dolled up to the nines with effigies, portraits, and statues of Jesus on the Cross, the Virgin Mary, El Santo Niño, and angels. Whenever I have non-Filipino friends come over, they are sort of taken aback, and then I have to explain to them what the hell is going on. 

My parents are part of a Catholic prayer group, based out of Mandaluyong, which has a big diaspora across Canada and the US, et al. I started 1st grade in a Catholic school in upstate New York. I attended CCD classes from an early age. I had the Sacrament of Confirmation in the 8th grade. I was part of a Catholic Filipino youth group. All the while, we, as a family go to other Filipino households to pray the rosary with the Poon (the statues of the Crucifix, the Virgin Mary, and El Santo Niño) every weekend. 

But to me as an individual, religion is most important in a culturally egalitarian and also academic sense. I don't practice anymore. Not because I lost faith in God. But because I will not be the one to automatically say that another's way of life is bad, and that they are any less than me, or they have any less of a chance to find peace after death, than myself.

What challenges did you face, growing up as a Filipino/Filipino-American?

I'm from New Jersey, I like to think. I was born there. I spent the best three years of my life there. It's becoming a distant memory though, because my family moved to Massachusetts when I was 9 years old, in the 4th grade. Moving from an area with a high concentration of Fil-Ams, where we would have church parties every weekend, where fiestas were as common as candy, and where everyone knew your name whether you knew them or not, to being in an area with a low concentration, at least at first, of Filipinos, was absolutely devastating. I didn't even know how to reflect on it at first. By ten years old I was really contemplating my identity though. I was suddenly only around white people. I few bad social interactions, and I was the reluctant, silent type. New England was so cold. Both socially and in its climate. I look back now and it's not just me, but everyone from out-of-state says that.

I struggled to fit in. I lost my fluency in Tagalog by the time I came to Massachusetts. My parents gave up teaching me. I was more worried about fitting in with the white kids, who I had to see every day. Dealing with being the butt of Asian jokes, people not even knowing where/what the Philippines is, getting constantly asked if I eat dog, or made fun of for eating with my hands, or putting too much ketchup on my eggs, or eating with a spoon and fork, and just being mistaken for Mexican, Indian, Chinese, Cambodian, Vietnamese, Native American or whatever, just rendered me bare. No one knew who I was. So I built a new identity, based on being white. I ignored the color of my skin. 

But as I began to better my circumstances, I embraced how I was raised and what I looked like in the mirror. Being Filipino was not something to be ashamed of. I learned to display it proudly. That was hard. When there is a body of people who see you as different, even if in a dark room you would all sound the same, they still treat you differently. 

For those not from the Philippines, have you ever been to there? Tell a story or favorite memory from you visit!

Well over a decade ago was the last time I went. I was visiting my cousins in the provinces, in Pangasinan. They had a two-story, open door, concrete house, a dirt yard, a chicken coop, and a fire pit where they would roast fresh tilapia from a local fishpond. It was fun there. I was young. Me and my cousins would just throw dirt at each other and watch Darna on their ancient antenna TV for fun. But it was monsoon season. During my stay there, we became trapped in the house while the monsoon raged on. I was scared. It was my first time ever experiencing something like that. As time (was it days?) passed, I became hangry. In my inexperience, I wasn't certain we'd make it out alive. 

We survived alright. The days before we headed back to the States, we were staying in Manila, and I said to my parents in such impatience "When are we leaving these wretched islands?!" 

They still tease me about that to this day. 

I'm over my petulant-child-self, and I look forward to the day I can reconnect with my relatives and my culture. I have more compassion for others, and hope to someday better the lives for those who are annually affected by monsoons.

What is one thing you want to do in the next four years?

Get into a PhD program and start work on really tackling climate change.

Describe the happiest moment of your life.

Probably falling in love. Being big on romanticism, that meant a lot to me. But I also think there are many kinds of happiness, and the other kinds I might be looked down upon, to put it mildly, for admitting to haha

What has been one of your biggest regrets in life so far?

Forgetting Tagalog.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

Probably just hanging out.

What does it mean to be successful in your family?

Success is being a doctor or a lawyer.

Who are the relative(s) you are closest with?

My brother. The bunso. He's seven years younger than me and he's the meme lord.

Do you have any stories involving your older/deceased ancestors?

My lolo (granddad) on my father's side fought in World War II. He fought the Japanese when they invaded and he walked in the Bataan Death March when our resistance failed. I never knew him, not because he died there, but because he died of cancer a month before I was born. Sometimes I wonder what he was like. Did he hate the Japanese? Would he have been the kind, doting grandfather figure I never had (my mom's dad died before I was born too). Would he have hated me for embracing Japanese culture by watching anime, having Japanese friends? And what kind of father could have produced such a weird specimen such as my dad? The world may never know.

Is having a knowledge of family history important? Why or why not?

Family history is absolutely important. Some may not know their parents, or their parents don't really value the culture they came from, or impart that value to their kids. But I believe that, even if you don't feel connected, it still remains important. When we forget our roots, we risk baselessness. Maybe we fundamentally disagree with the way our ancestors used to do things. But it is only by knowing the rules that we can break them (think Toph from Avatar). In baselessness, we are alone in our endeavors to define our identity. We make things up, which is often how culture evolves, but to evolve outside of community gets you hard labelled an outsider, a weirdo, a maniac.