Deconstructing "Interracial"...

So I'm in Vancouver visiting the cousins. We're at Pin Pin, the Filipino eatery, and everyone is snickering over the latest family joke as the row of Pinoys stare across the table at their White significant others, some of whom are daringly digging into the mystery meat, dinaguan. Being as unabashedly un-PC as we are, there is talk about accidentally "wiping-out the Filipino blood in our family" if the kids keep on dating and marrying Caucasians--an obvious pattern considering all four of us are in mixed-race relationships...

But besides some minor cultural barriers (ie. never referring to filipino elders by their first name--EVER--but instead using the universal Tita/Tito and Lola/Lolo--unless you want to risk a harsh slipper to the rear end; or accepting the fact that Filipinos will always eat fish with their hands since it's the most common sense way to pick out the bones), all of our boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, and wives have embraced our colourful family dynamic, while our Pinoy relatives have lovingly welcomed the in-laws with open arms despite the obvious interracial-ness of our relationships.

Sadly, I know the issue would have been a lot more controversial just a generation ago...

When my aunt arrived in Canada over 40 years ago, she was only 22 years-old. Winnipeg's Health Science Centre was recruiting nurses from abroad to join their growing team and my auntie, straight out of Nursing School, was forturnate enough to be chosen for the program. She was elated. The hospital was acting as her official sponsor so Auntie would have no problem gaining her permanent residency, and the accelerated training program would allow her to receive her Canadian RN credentials in no time. When it was all said and done, she would become the first Filipina nurse--EVER--at the Health Science Centre.

Somewhere along the way, Auntie had started dating. A young and strapping army sergeant began courting her and soon after, they were married. And even though the couple were happy and successful with up-and-coming careers, there was an undercurrent of disconnect brewing on her side of the family.

Auntie's new husband was Black and not everyone was on-board with this mixed-race marriage.

And without getting into the specifics of this family drama, I will tell you that for awhile, things did get a little ugly. Hurtful words were spoken, spiteful letters were written, and at times, entire family bonds were lost on account of their interracial courtship. To think, all of this fuss began over two shades of brown....

But that was then and this is now.

Our family has come full-circle from those days. Family gatherings are now a halo-halo of our multicultural roots--boisterous conversations in English laced with the native Cebuano, a bunch of White guys getting schooled while attempting to take on the Titas and Lolas in a game of Pusoy, and a husband proudly serving-up his first dish of pancit palabok after his mother-in-law gave him her secret recipe...

What Makes You a Filipino?

What is the essence of a culture?


Is it language? Values? History?


Can we possibly pinpoint a single attribute that authenticates one's culture?

Recently, I discovered the Speak Out series on Youtube that originally aired on The Filipino Channel. A Filipino-centric talk show, Speak Out explores relevant issues in a town hall meeting-style forum.


So what happened when they got a group of Philippine and American-born Filipinos together to define the Pinoy identity ?


Well, let's just say it involved a heated debate about the subjective essence of Filipino-ness (you can watch the program HERE):

Assimilating into American culture...

• "The message that I received was that my Filipino-ness was not good enough. And that I will not be accepted by my accent and by the way I dress. In essence, I have to shed my self of my Filipino-ness."
  

The language debate...

• "They expect us to explain our [Filipino] club...you know...our mission statement in Tagalog. And then they came up and said, 'We don't think you should call yourself Filipino because you can't even speak the language!'"

• "How are you going to tell me that you're a Filipino organization and you can't even speak Tagalog?! The essence--the foundation--of that organization...you can't even explain!"
  

What is American?

• "What does Americanization mean or what is the American Dream? And who is American? When we think about this...when we think about this concept...most people think about White folks. So if a Filipino wants to be a Filipino American, are you trying to be White or trying to have the ideals of America--of freedom and democracy, and have wealth and privilege?"

What is Filipino?

• "Let's just reverse the question: What does it mean to be Filipino? Does it mean chinellas (slippers) in the winter? Or does it mean putting our parents on a pedestal? "
  

Needless to say, the program stirred up a lot of strong feelings regarding the cultural authenticity of a Filipino, and I have to say I was getting pretty riled-up in the process! I guess the whole debate caught me off guard since I didn't realize such a strong rift existed between these two groups of Filipinos...but then...after thinking about it, I started to get it.

How can we strip one of their Filipino-ness on account of the fact that they may not speak Tagalog, but instead speak "fluent" English? Many of our parents believed that raising us in North America accent-free would allow us to become more successful within the larger culture, having encountered their own challenges with discrimination when immigrating to the new country. But the the seed of European superiority was obviously planted long ago...

Why do we often convince new Filipino immigrants that being American or being Canadian trumps being Pinoy? What is really dividing us? Why do Filipino American and Canadian kids often ignore their Philippine-born counterparts at school? Is it really because of their accents? OR is it because new Filipino immigrants remind us that we came from a place that's often been suppressed by our "good English" and North American privilege?

So what makes you a Filipino?

Family
loyalty is layers
of strength
as many Pinays
runs through my veins
my brown skin
at times
triggered the taunts
that have lingered
along
with Those dark times
All Pinoys share
the mountain
from which I see the world
and the way
that world
wishes to see me.

What's your heritage?

When I first started my blog back in November, it felt like I was this leaky faucet just dripping with ideas. My inspiration stemmed from my desire to explore the unique faces of the Pinay identity. It was a way of reaffirming my own sense of self since coming into my mixed Filipina Canadian heritage had definitely been a work in progress.

Throughout my youth, I had convinced myself that I was a Canadian that just happened to be Filipino. So being a Filipina was merely a consequence of my ancestry. Whenever I answered the well-played-out What's your heritage? question, I always felt the need to emphasize my Canadian-ness in my explanation: “I was born in Canada but my family is from the Philippines.”

It was a reflex I had developed over the years in order to convince people that I really was one of them even though I didn’t look like them. It was a second skin I had grown way back in elementary school when kids would shrug their shoulders and crinkle up their faces in puzzlement whenever I said I was a Filipino, as if this was synonymous with me saying I am a Martian. And at the time, it was my way of resolving both my Filipino and Canadian identities since I perceived them to be two diametrically opposed entities.

Complicating matters even more was the way my family always seemed to blame my teenage shortcomings (ie. cutting classes and missing curfew) on my Canadian (ahem...White) friends, convinced that all of my own free will suddenly flew out the window when I was in the company of these infamous ringleaders.

While peer pressure obviously played a large part in my teenage rebellion, I'm pretty sure that race had nothing to do with anything considering I knew a bunch of Filipino kids, and Chinese kids, and Indian kids who used to smoke cigarettes and cut classes all the time. It was like a right of passage or something. But before I get carried away here, my point is that my family had harnessed these discriminative notions of Canadian culture from their own coming to America experiences. To them, I was doing my Pinay heritage a grave injustice by behaving more Canadian. What that really meant was well beyond me and somehow I felt like I was a square peg trying to fit into a round hole.

So with all sob stories aside...

I started to figure things out. Seeing the amazing work done by Dr. Melinda L. de Jesus (Pinay Power Peminist Critical Theory: Theorizing the Filipina/American Experience) and Sabrina Margarita Alcantara-Tan (Bamboo Girl) made me realize that I was walking down a well-worn path paved away by millions of other Filipina Canadians and Americans. We were nurses, and punks, and teachers, and queers, and professors, and activists. Some of us could speak Tagalog, while others could barely utter a single sentence in our ancestral tongue due to highly held values of assimilation. Some of us were raised in strict Catholic households where girls were just girls, while others were taught the values of Pinay Power. But despite our uniqueness, we were all Filipinas.

As I began to connect the dots, I couldn't help but feel this overwhelming affinity for all of the women in my family.

So what's my heritage?

While I was the only Filipina at those punk rock shows, my aunt was the first Filipina nurse to arrive at Winnipeg’s Health Science Centre. As I crowd-surfed my way closer to my favourite band, yet another aunt carried her sister on her back as they fled from the Japanese during the Second World War. And even though I had earned my own shred of street credibility, my mother was busy earning two academic degrees and balancing the responsibilities of single motherhood.

That's who I am...

**Note: A section of this post was previously published in my article,"That's What a Filipina Is!", which appears in the latest issue of RicePaper Magazine.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall...The Other Beauty

Who's the fairest of all?

While we relentlessly convince North American women to be forever youthful with big breasts, teeny waists, white teeth, clear skin, fatless figures, waxed bodies, and designer jeans...

...many women of colour struggle with being too dark-skinned, squinty-eyed, kinky-haired, flat-faced, big-lipped, wide-nosed...

Judging by these impossible expectations, one can't really win!

In Filipino culture, a light-skinned ideal has been perpetuated by what I like to call, mestiza posturing. Mestiza/mestizo is a term borrowed from Spanish to mean one who has mixed indigenous and European blood, and even if individuals do not have this mixed descent, this look often governs mainstream perceptions of beauty. Just take a look at these major Filipina celebrities:

Vina Morales

K.C. Concepcion

Jennylyn Mercado

Taking this idea even further, mestiza posturing can also be seen as a bi-product of the Philippines' colonial/feudalistic legacy in which a system of white authority and brown inferiority was built upon the appropriated archipelago.

In "Emil's Big Chance Makes Me Feel Uneasy," Tricia Capistrano, reveals how much of her life has been dictated by this mestiza complex. She describes this underlying "white is right" consciousness:

I am a brown-skinned woman from the Philippines, where many people I know have a fascination with the lighter skinned--probably because our islands were invaded so many times by whites who tried to convince us that they were better and more beautiful than us. We were under Spain's rule for nearly 400 years, the United States' for almost 50. As a result, skin-whitening products fly off the pharmacy shelves.

With this notion of light-skinned superiority ingrained deeply into her teenage consciousness, Capistrano admits how she used to "hang out with the mestizas, because I wanted to be popular like them." And the quest for whiteness didn't stop there. While her grandmother cringed at the idea of her already dark skin becoming even darker at a friend's pool party, Capistrano's own mother encouraged her to start pinching the bridge of her nose everyday in hopes of "arching" its imperfectly flat surface.

After giving birth to her son, Emil, Capistrano was suddenly able to see the other side of the equation. Emil was a fair-skinned mestizo of Swedish/Dutch and Filipino descent which automatically made him a member of the most exclusive club. This became even more apparent during a family trip to the Philippines when Capistrano was continually bombarded by a slew of Filipina admirers ogling at her mestizo son. He's so cute! So fair-skinned!--they would exclaim.

Fearing the cost of Emil's future college education, Capistrano even considered moving back to the Philippines permanently, confident that her son could easily land a part doing baby commercials. When she was on the verge of booking an agent, Capistrano suddenly reconsidered her plans: "I realized that I was going to be part of the system that can sometimes make us dark-skinned people believe that we are inferior. I do not want Filipino children who look like me to feel bad about themselves....

***************

So even though I've focused the majority of this discussion on the Philippine perspective of beauty, I would like to turn your attention to another demographic--African American women. A friend of mine recently recommended this documentary featurette, A Girl Like Me, directed by a 17 year-old filmmaker, Kiri Davis. In her film, Davis insightfully explores perceptions of beauty through the eyes of African American girls. Like their Filipina counterparts, these young women reveal how they are often taught to perceive lighter-skin as more beautiful, while sometimes feeling pressured to surrender their traditional curls for the tamed relaxed look.

Without further ado, watch A Girl Like Me right here:

Related Resources

Borderlands/ La Frontera: A New Mestiza--Gloria Anzaldua

Emulated through Images: The Globalization of Misconstructed African American Beauty and Hip-Hop Culture--John Hendrick Clarke

Liminality and mestiza consciousness in Lynda Barry's One Hundred Demons --Melissa de Jesus

Metaphors of a Mestiza Consciousness --Erika Aigner-Varoz

Tagalog Movies and Identity :Portrayals of the Filipino Self --James F. Kenny

Oh! Yeah! I wanna riot!--Slam Dancing to Pinoy Punk Rock

Golly gee whiz, Filipino punk rock does exist!

In my very first post, I shared my experiences of frequenting my hometown's local punk/ska scene as seemingly the only Filipina at any of those shows. It was almost comical at times since I would often show up with my buddy, Andy, a big tall Black guy with a heart of gold, who was also an aficionado of Black Flag, Dead Kennedys, Operation Ivy, and the like....Andy and I, along with the rest of our friends, would often arrive at these gigs amidst stares ranging from mere curiousity to sheer puzzlement, which seemed to imply:

Dude, are you in the right place? SNFU is playing tonight not Run DMC....

Okay, so no one ever came out and said that but like I said, their stares often said it all. And the thing was, I also happened to listen to Hip Hop, Trip Hop, Indie, and Classic Rock--Who the f*** cared? But once I got older and started checking out DJ buddies of mine spinning Breaks and Jungle beats at local clubs, I would be one Pinay in a sea of other Filipinos so I was always treated with a special kind of respect--the nod--like I was their long lost brethren.


So what did this all mean?


I wasn't sure. It was something that I was aware of, but couldn't quite put my finger on.


So years whizzed by and this subject fell right off my radar as university, relationships, and careers begin to take centre stage. That is, until recently....


After starting my blog and writing that first post, it seriously got me thinking. Are there actually Filipino punks and rude girls/ boys out there?


A night of unscholarly research via GOOGLE and an entire bag of Clodhoppers turned up the answer I was looking for: YES!


Issues of race, identity, politics, activism, and resistance becamse apparent in the voices of :

ESKAPO--a Filipino American hardcore band outta Vallejo, CA

KADENA--a Filipino American punk band from Brooklyn, NY

T.R.A--a Pinoy punk/ska band from Cainta, Rizal Phillipines

Delubyo--Filipino American hardcore band outta Vallejo, CA

Shuffle Union--Pinoy ska band from Quezon City, Metro Manila

Marcos Cronies--Pinoy Ska band from Angeles, Pampanga Philippines

Put3Ska--two-tone ska outta Manila

I.O.V., G.I. the Idiots, Betrayed and Dead Ends--Filipino hardcore godfathers circa 1980s

What I realize now is that I shouldn't have been surprised. Extreme poverty and the seemingly endless generations of political instability--most recently marked by the corruption of Marcos, Ramos, Estrada, and Arroya--naturally went hand-in-hand with the origins of punk rock ethos. Instead of Joe Strummer and Johnny Rotten expressing their disillusionment in regards to the British monarchy and blatant classism in the UK, Pinoy hardcore trailblazers, Urban Bandits, were screaming their angst about the political assasination of Sen. Ninoy Aquino, a man seen as a symbol of hope in succeeding the notorious Marcos. They were all voices of punk rock resistance, only separated by geography.


And in discovering this rich history of Pinoy punk rock, I couldn't help but feel a sense of personal validation. My identity had been legitimized in much the same way I had suddenly become relavant when I went from being the only Pinay kid in Elementary School, to becoming one of many Filipino Canadians in High School. I wasn't the only one....


As a very fitting end to this post, I'll leave you all with this great documentary made by a group of Filipino American students at the University of San Francisco entitled, Rock and Resistance: Filipino American Identity Beyond Bebot (**"Bebot" is a reference to a Black Eye Peas song of the same name, which translates into 'hot chick' in Tagalog**). The documentary spotlights the contributions made by Filipino American musicians outside of the realm of Hip Hop.

Rock and Resistance: Filipino American Identity Beyond Bebot (Pt. 1)

(Pt. 2)

An Unofficial History of Philippine Punk

Philippines--80s Hardcore

Razorcake zine--"Philippine Hardcore/ Punk Scene Report"

Ode to El Familia

Cuivis dolori remedium est patientia.

--Patience is the cure for all suffering.

This is a conversation I had with my mom, sometime during my terrible teen years:

MOM: What's wrong with you?! Have you forgotten where you came from??

ME: Where I came from? What, you mean some Third World country with a bunch of poor people?

MOM: Don't you ever say that! You are a Filipino--have some respect!!

ME: I know, but I was born in Canada so I am also a Canadian. Remember?

MOM: You think you're so smart because you speak fluent English and can manipulate conversations. But the truth is, you wouldn't be in the comfortable position you are now if it wasn't for the sacrifices made by your family!

Silence.

After a few deep breaths, my newly composed mother began to tell me this story. I had heard much of this before, but now she made no qualms about filling in ALL the blanks....

MOM: When the Japanese came, we lost everthing. Our house was burned down during their occupation so that's why there are no photos from my childhood. Since my parents had 8 kids, they were not going to take any chances. We had to flee Davao.

The plan was to go to Cotobato since my mother, your Lola, had a brother there. This was a very long way on foot. We basically had to walk from one coast to another. It was a very long journey.

My father, your Lolo, carried all of the food and supplies that we needed. Your Lola carried your Auntie Nina near her chest since she was only a baby. I was just a toddler so your Auntie Linda carried me on her back the whole way.

We had to remain inconspicuous so the Japanese would not find us. So we often walked through fields. If my parents heard or saw anything suspcious we had to crouch down to the ground. Your Lola has since told me she was very very frightened during these times....

ME: Oh my GOD! Did you guys actually make it the whole way?

MOM: Amazingly, yes, we did. We stayed at my uncle's place in Pigcawayan, a city in Cotobato, until after the war.

ME: And then what happened?

MOM: We travelled back to Davao.

ME: You went back?

MOM: Well, my parents still thought we had a house to go home to. When we returned, that's when they discovered that our home was burned to the ground.

ME: That's so devastating!

MOM: It was, but remember, that was just a house. I think my parents were very thankful that we all actually survived.

ME: No kidding! That's an amazing story....

MOM: Well, there's still more. Do you want me to go on?

ME: Yeah Mom, for sure. Go for it.

MOM: So my father had fallen very ill in the years following the war. As his condition began to dramatically deteroriate, he eventually passed away from these complications.

This was very hard on my mother. She loved your Lolo so much. While he came from a very wealthy family, your Lola came from a very poor family. His family did not approve of this. In fact, they disowned him when he married her. So when he passed away, he did not have a lot of money to leave us.

My mother was very worried because she now had 8 mouths to feed, and we were all very young at the time--my oldest brother, your Uncle Tony, was 15 years-old. Your Uncle Danny, the youngest, was still a baby.

While your Lola was an intelligent woman, she only had an Elementary school education so her employment options were very limited. She also had many children to care for so she couldn't leave the house to work. This meant that your Uncle Tony was forced to sell fruits and vegetables on a street corner in order to put food on the table for us.

ME: Are you serious? Uncle Tony actually had to do that? He was like my age at that time!

MOM: Well, unlike you, he had no other options. It was not a glamorous job, but it was either that or starve.

ME: But I don't get it. How could you guys be living in total poverty and then somehow all become educated and immigrate to Canada and the States?

MOM: Be patient, I'm getting to that.

ME: OK, continue then.

MOM: So when hope was beginning to run-out for my family, my dad's sister suddenly arrived on our doorstep. What a godsend! She invited us all to move into her house so she could help us. Most of all, she was the catalyst for all of us getting an education.

Over the next few years, my aunt helped raise us and became our soul breadwinner. She would even pay for your Auntie Linda's and Uncle Tony's post-secondary education. This was a true gift since an education was the only ticket out of our poverty.

Once your Uncle Tony eventually graduated with a Master's Degree in Political Science, he made good on his final promise to our father....

ME: Promise?

MOM: Before your Lolo had died, Tony had told him he would take care of our mother and all of his siblings once he had the opportunity. And since he had just landed a good paying post-degree job, this was now the opportunity he had been waiting for.

Recognizing that our aunt had went above and beyond the call of duty, your Uncle Tony decided to take the responsibilty of paying for the rest of our college education.

Can you believe that? He sent us ALL to school! If it wasn't for your Uncle Tony, your Auntie Nina, Uncle Joe, Uncle Rene, Uncle John, Uncle Danny, and myself would not have had the opportunity to earn the degrees we have today.

ME: That's absolutely incredible! But how did Uncle Tony have the time to send all of you guys to school and start his own family?

MOM: He didn't. Helping us all get an education came at the price of his own personal life. Since he was so busy working crazy hours, there was just no time for dating or socializing, much alone getting married. When he did finally settle down, he was already nearing his forties.

ME: Wow, Uncle Tony is such an extraordinary person! So self-less. I mean all of you guys are amazing survivors...to come from nothing and end up where you are today. Mom...I'm really sorry about what I said earlier. I really had no idea....

MOM: That's all right, hija. You come from a different world, so of course it is difficult for you to understand another kind of life. All we ask you to do is remember...and recognize that you come from a very special legacy. You are a Filipino.

Buying a Filipina Wife: Voices of Mail-Order Brides in Canada

The Philippine Women's Centre of BC (PWC) defines mail-order brides as "a formal transaction between a man and a woman from different countries, usually brokered by an agent, who is part of the mail-order bride industry, via catalogues or the Internet. The term is also applied to situations where men go to the Philippines with the intention of finding a wife."

It is no secret that many Western men love shopping for their potential wives in the Philippines. In fact, the desire for an Island wife is so strong that a whopping 5000 Filipina mail-order brides arrive in the United States every year, while 20,000 catalogue wives already reside in Australia. And Canada is also joining this growing club as the country's large Filipina domestic worker demographic will be soon eclipsed by that of Island-bought brides.

You’re not liking Filipina dating sites? We are what we are. The Philippines is over populated with mostly women. There is a very high poverty level and Filipino do not treat their women very well. So what it adds up to is so many [F]ilipina want out! The desire to leave and the fact they are the most beautiful women in the world and treat their men better than any other culture of women. That makes the Filipina very desirable to most men around the world. (quoted from a guy that runs one of the many objectionable Filipina "dating" sites)

Well, this must mean that Filipinas are living the high-life overseas in the comfort of their new mail-order marriages. Let's take a look at some of their experiences...

"Maria" expresses the economic disempowerment she is subjected to by her Canadian husband: "We then fight. I don’t have money at all. I have to make him satisfied. We have so many incidents. I can’t go shopping. Of course it’s natural for us women to go out shopping, to buy something. He’s not giving me any money. He doesn’t know that he should give me money and he just learned from me in the long run...."

"Then the lifestyle here, there is no respect at all. Like it’s not easy for me to just ask or borrow something like the vacuum or money. Sometimes I feel shy to tell him that we need this or we need that."

"Nika" grew up in the Visayan region of the Philippines in a peasant family. Since her older sister had married a foreigner and was reaping the financial rewards of her new lifestyle, Nika was also determined to become a mail-order bride...She finally decided on her future husband, "Tom," after exchanging a series of letters with him. Tom had boasted about his booming taxi business back in Canada and had promised to sponsor Nika to the country.

Sadly, Nika's new life in Canada would be marked by her husband's incessant verbal and emotional abuse. He monitored her phone calls, he forbade her from watching TV, and even regulated how much she ate. In order to signal Nika to stop eating, Tom would simply slap her.

As a Filipina working in Hong Kong, "Perlita" met her Canadian husband, "Keith" through a "friendship" service....She decided to apply for residency through Canada's Live-in Caregiver Program (LCP) in order to secure her own incomce once she arrived in the new country. However, once Perlita had the couple's first baby, Keith would no longer allow her to work outside of the home.

And his abuse would not stop there. After Perlita gave birth to their second child, Keith started to control all aspects of her life--her social life, her finances, and even her mobility. He also inflicted brutal attacks on her in which he punched Perlita in the face, suffocated her in front of their children, and cruelly threatened her by holding a gun to her head.

Right, so despite the high instances of domestic abuse, the inherent marginalization of being bought in a developing nation and brought into the First World as a wife-servant, and being caught in this devastating Catch-22 with very few options, this really sounds like a better life...

All the personal excerpts from Filipina Canadians were borrowed from Canada: The New Frontier for Filipin Mail-Order Brides as published by the Philippine Women's Centre of BC. Please note that this is only a brief overview of the issue so please visit the above links for a more comprehensive exploration...

You Made Me Blush!

Today, I just wanted to send a huge THANK YOU to a fellow Pinay blogger for her kind words and tagging me in her last post. Such a kind gesture and you really did make me blush!

Girl, you inspire me too!

Check out Ivy's blog here!