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Through dance, I’ve learned to appreciate the nuance of the Pilipinx and Pilipinx American experience, slowly and surely ridding myself of my preconceived notions of Pilipinxness.
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Seeking help or working together does not make me any less successful than my peers. I am graduating for myself, for other Chicanx students, for other students of color, for womxn
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I took all the depression, guilt and anger that I had constantly built up within me and took it upon myself to accomplish my father’s unfinished mission. It wasn’t easy to get back on my feet, and I worried that I would fail my father because even though I had a lot of passion and determination, I felt completely lost.
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A new day begins with a warm, citrus tint cast above the city. I can see it clearly with all its lurid delights. The soo’q (market) is busy with mothers bargaining for lower prices on cabbages and eggplants while children stray further down the marketplace, toward the livestock. They race
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I’ve often been told, “You look Black American, but I figured you weren’t. You don’t sound like them.” This statement, along with comments referring to my accent, my ability to speak English well and much more are what my life has been since I moved to the United States. I
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Seared into my memory is the first time I fought with my friends. We were in ninth-grade world history when my friend offhandedly joked, “Yeah, but Rona’s Asian and has a big house, so she wouldn’t get what we’re going through.” “Excuse me?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
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For most people, ABCD is the beginning of the English alphabet. But for American-Born, Confused Desis like me, it’s an acronym, an insult, a joke and an identity, all wrapped up in four letters. Calling me an ABCD invalidates my experience of being Desi, or a person of South Asian
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When I was seven years old, my white uncle called me a worthless n-word in the middle of an argument. As I sobbed uncontrollably at my grandmother’s feet, I realized that racism can trump family. Being half- Black and half-white, I fall in between two identities. I realized then that
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These spaces — spaces like UC Berkeley — were never created for people like me. Retention rates of Pilipinx students at UC Berkeley always frustrated me, but at times like these, I was numb to the idea of becoming a part of those statistics.
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When I would ask about my absent dad, my mom would tell not me to worry, reminding me of my Heavenly Father watching over me from up above. I love you, Mom, but that’s crazy talk. I don’t want white Christ watching over me as much as I don’t want
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