on filipino/pilipino diaspora: my experience

content warning (cw):  descriptions of diaspora, racial identity, multiracial experiences, abandonment/loneliness, mention of abuse, body horror mention

as a multracial student of color, i’m very confused a lot of the time, and it’s hard to feel like i fit in, especially in my ethnic communities and the diaspora*. i’m mexican and pilipinx**, as well as white, but with my skin i can’t really claim that (and i don’t want to, but it’s not something i can deny at the same time. it’s a lot). in both communties i feel isolated, like i can’t find a way to fit in; for mexican folks, i’m too asian—for filipino/pilipino folks, i’m too latinx. for both communities, i feel very alone because i wasn’t given access to my cultural traditions and practices because much of my family is white or mixed with white, and for many reasons we didn’t talk about race, or ethnicity, or anything. i’ve learned a lot of my cultural backgrounds alone, away from my family, because they either don’t realize they’re people of color too, or they don’t care. i might also be thinking about that wrong, but i think i’ve been so alone in this experience of being mixed for so long that i’m not in a place to be understanding of what they think or feel. as a result of that, though, when i approach these communities or find other people who are full mexican or full pilipino/filipino, i freeze up because i don’t feel like i’m enough

 

enough

enough is the best word for it.

where are you from?

what are you?

how can i dissect

your entire self

piece by piece

limb from limb

with just one look at

your face?

one glance

of the eyes

over your heart

that lies

heavy in your chest

on your sleeve?

where are your parent’s from?

did they grow up in

(insert city) here in (insert country) here?

how can you not know?

aren’t they

your family?

how?

when you look asian

one moment

and latinx

the next?

oh, you’re pilipino?

have your ever visited family in the phillipines?

what?

your grandpa died when you were too young

and your mom is mixed

and you never got to learn

about being pilipino?

that sucks

sorry, i don’t think you

are pilipino.

if you can’t tell me

what kind of pilipino

you are

then you don’t

belong.

oh, ¿hablas español?

eres mexicana?

no entiendes por qué

tu no entiendes hablar español

fluidamente.

your dad abused your mom

and ran away from your family

ran away from his responsibility

to raise you

to teach you

and see you grow into the blossoming of your

culture?

lo siento, no es mexicana.

but i am!

i am these things!

please believe me!

i’m learning!

i was denied my right to

my culture

and i am denied

access

to my community

to top of that unique as fuck experience of

living

the diaspora.

what a wonderful way to spend my life.

in isolation

for things that i will

battle

constantly

with the vague memories of my ancestors

in this

complexly constructed, multiplied soul.

why am i forced to feel like this?

when all i want to feel

is feel like i

am enough.

 

 

wow. i didn’t mean to make this a poem but i guess that’s how things go sometimes, haha.

 

definitions:

*diaspora: a scattered population of people whose origins stem from a smaller geographic area/location. people of color in the US often use this word to describe their feelings about being separated by our ancestor’s countries of origin, and various other feelings of separation and isolation from each other

**pilipinx: gender-neutral term used to descrise filipino/pilipino people, can be seen as problematic, but i use it as a non-binary person in the pilipino diaspora.

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