On Saturday, I attended the chapbook release party of Jenny Lares (yay!), and listened to a few of her spoken word poetry pieces. Blame the fact that I am an emotional person (my ups are really up there and my lows are really sad) or hormones if you will, but I found myself in tears at a point...during a poem called "Patawad," which apologized to her grandmother about not learning about her experience in the Philippines, her culture, her tradition, her struggles in this country and her native one. There was something that sent chills up and down my spine...something about understanding what the poem was saying so exactly, so deeply, so empowered by the fact that there was someone else in this world who felt exactly as I felt. That feeling of remorse from not learning more about my own Filipino grandmother, my lola, who I called "Inang," which is a word that means "mother." How much of my identity have I lost as a result of passing up that opportunity to know about her experiences...they were her struggles, her life, and I valued it that little to let it slip away?
Yet it's not too late, at least to learn about the struggles of Filipino Americans in this country. Hearing about I-Hotel, how that community - those people who were forced to leave their home, all they had, as little as it was, and how hard they fought to keep it...that effort is something that I recognize, that I value, that I'm proud of.
My Inang - I'd loved her! She remains a part of me. Her history was my history and a part of my identity. It's no wonder I felt that dissonance - that regret, remorse, disappointment, that damned shame for not preserving it. It's no wonder I'd cried...
...And that must be the power of shared experience.
This post is to be continued, by the way, for the next time I post. :) I really wanted to talk about avenues for expression and using our voice in unique ways for A/PIA activism!
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3 comments:
this is awesome guys. mike thao.
this is an awesome idea guys. mike thao
This entry reminds me of a dark time in my own life with the tragic passing of two family members. History is lost when it remains untold and I encourage everyone to speak with their loved ones about their family history because death can come unexpectedly, regardless of age. I was fortunate to unravel some of my own family history before their passing through a few courses in school (FYI - AMCULT 214: Intro to A/PA Studies). Still, I know there was so much more that I could have learned but now may never know.
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