Lumingon is a word in Tagalog (the main dialect of the Philippines) that can be translated to mean 'to look around' or 'to look behind'. When I was in college, I was the chair of a conference by the same name, and the theme of the conference was to look into our past to help us go into the future. (but that's a story for another time)

With everything that's been happening in the few months, as well as the new year beginning and even watching 'Big Fish', it has led me to think about my past a lot, and my relationship with my parents.

I won't lie and say that my mom was my best friend, or that I could turn to my father with any of my problems. I can't say that I was never embarrassed by my parents, or that I never wished that I had other parents. But I can say that I now know that they love me and my sisters, and I understand the sacrifices that they made to give us a good life.

It wasn't always this way. Both my parents were immigrants from the Philippines. My mom came here in the mid sixties, and my father came here after they got married in the early seventies. (talk about a long distance relationship!) I was raised with Filipino values, eating Filipino food and surrounded by my Filipino family. When I was around 5, we moved to a predominantly Polish and Irish neighborhood. When I began school, it was a bit of a culture shock. I was one of the very few minority children at school. Seriously, there were about 10 of us in the whole school. I started to get embarrassed by my parents' accents. I didn't want to take smelly stuff to school for lunch. I insisted on getting Spaghettios and other 'cool' lunches. Sometimes I would win, most of the time I would lose. I resented the fact that all my classmates got to hang out with each other after school and go to sleepovers, but my parents never trusted the other families, so I would go to the parties, but then my father would pick me up early. All the other kids had cool Barbies and Cabbage Patch dolls, and I would get the Sonny and Cher doll or dolls from relatives in the Philippines.

In high school, I would constantly correct my mom when I would go to dances or formals and she would call them 'parties'. I thought it was the most unfair thing in the world that they wouldn't allow me to wear makeup or date until after college. (I broke them out of THAT one!) When guys would come over, they would ask, 'Is he courting you?' and I would just roll my eyes. 'No one uses the word 'courting' anymore!!!' I would say.

Sadly, growing up, I was rarely proud of being my parents' daughter, or of even being Filipino. All I thought of was myself, and how they reflected on me. I hated being Filipino - I wanted to be as American as I could be. When I would argue with my parents, they would say, 'But they're American! You're Filipino!' and I would shoot back with 'I'm American - I'm an American citizen, aren't I?' Yeah, I was a brat.

But when I got into college, my eyes opened for the first time. I joined a Filipino club and learned about the culture that my parents so desperately tried teaching me when I was young. I grew to appreciate it, find the beauty in the Filipino culture, and learn about the rich history of my heritage. I also realized the kind of sacrifices that my parents made by coming to America to start new lives. It wasn't easy for them to pack up, leave their families, and move to a new country where the culture is so different, the values clashing with the values they were brought up with. I'm sure when they first came to this country they had stars in their eyes, thinking of maybe living a wealthy life, being successful, living in luxury.

But the reality of it was that they had a middle class life, working hard to put three kids through Catholic school because they didn't trust the Chicago public school system. Not the glamorous life they dreamed of. In addition to that, their kids didn't appreciate their heritage, didn't want to learn about life back home. But no matter, they worked hard to give their children the opportunity to have an easier life, to maybe live the life that they dreamed of having.

I realized what sacrifices my parents had made for me. How proud of them I should be for all they went through, for still loving me even though I was so hard headed all those years. What a beautiful past, what a rich history was my foundation. I started to see them as people, not just my parents. People with stories, people with feelings, wants, needs and aspirations.

Luckily, I had time to make amends for my unappreciative childhood. I worked hard to become someone that my parents could be proud of, so their sacrifices weren't made in vain. I made sure to let them know that I loved them, that I was proud to be a filipino, and I wanted to learn about the history of my homeland - the history, culture and the values.

I am so relieved that I didn't realize this too late. I was talking to a friend the other day, who said that he still had issues with his father. It's hard to start bridging the gap, but it's something that must be done. You never know what can happen in the future, and you don't want to have regrets.

I am no longer afraid to look behind me, where I come from, my past and my heritage. And knowing that, it makes my journey forward that much easier...

Posted by Yano at January 9, 2004 12:52 AM

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