The Philippines taught me what America is all about

My mom’s story is one of many within the Filipino Diaspora, but her struggle is the root of my very existence.

Her ability to thrive as an independent woman of color continues to inspire me everyday to be wiser, stronger, and more compassionate toward people and the world.

My mom dreamed of jet planes

She grew up in Cagayan de Oro, the southern Philippines with her six brothers and two sisters dreaming of a life beyond the archipelago. Her mother, my lola, decided that my mom with her wit, charm, and care would be a nurse. My lola and lolo were determined to provide their children with the best opportunity to come to America whether that was speaking and practicing English or saving up the small amount of funds they had to fund their education.

Growing up in a country with deeply rooted histories of colonization and oppression, my mom along with her siblings and friends grew up with a strong awareness of the opportunities and power lying across the sea in the United States of America. As she studied hard to become a registered nurse she gazed lovingly at the jet planes soaring away from the struggle and pain she endured to continue pursuing her dream.

My mom dreamed of opportunity

Coming to America in 1980 as a registered nurse, my mom struggled to adapt to American culture and norms. Although she grew up learning English, she was constantly scrutinized for her accent and pronunciation of medication names in the hospital. It took her over fourteen years to save sufficient income on her own to return to “the province.”

Through prayer and hard work, my mom never lost hope of establishing herself in this country. During this time she married my father, a Polish and Russian American, and had my sisters and me (clearly her greatest accomplishment). My mom was determined that this land of opportunity would allow us to achieve anything we set our minds toward.

My mom dreamed of my happiness

Growing up, I had the privilege of experiencing two drastically different cultures that continue to teach me how to love and embrace my identity. From my mom, I learned the power of persistence and the ability to be a working and independent womxn while also being a loving, nurturing caretaker. She taught me how to love my rough, brown skin and my coarse curly hair.

To believe that I was strong, beautiful and resilient simply because I was her daughter and she would not let me give up on myself that easily. My dad always encouraged me to remember my mom’s story and her ability to hold our family together in dire circumstances.

I dream of my mom’s peace

Even as I lose myself in the haze of college stress and soul searching, she is always there to be my constant, to silence my self-doubt, to remind me that even though she may not exactly understand my experiences, she will always be there to listen.

Learning more about her story as I embark upon my own journey to volunteer in the Philippines this summer, I dream of the success and struggles that lie ahead – reminding myself all the while that I come from a line of warriors and that already makes me enough.