An Asian in America

"An Asian in America", unwieldy as the statement might be, is how I have decided to characterize myself in the grand cultural milieu of the United States.

I am, for all technical and legal definitions, an American, a citizen of the United States just as anyone born and raised from New York to Los Angeles, Seattle to Miami, from New Mexico to North Dakota and everywhere in between. My parents, like so many others in this land of opportunity, came here in search for the best lives for themselves, their loved ones, and the descendants they were to have. It was during their pursuit of happiness that I was born in a small hospital in Alexandria, Virginia, and I was baptized in a small church in Fairfax a few miles away. This is why I carry an American passport and am fortunate enough to be regarded the courtesies that citizens of this great country enjoy - that I am an American, and I have been granted this privilege by the grace of those who recognized the citizens of this land not as belonging to one race of people, but to all those who would seek in it a means to make the world a better place.

Despite these privileges for which I am thankful, I cannot in good conscience ever refer to my identity as being that of an "American". To do so would be a disservice in numerous ways, to numerous people. It would disparage the efforts of my parents who, instead of choosing a path that would create great wealth for themselves, they gave that up to raise me and my brothers in the same world they formed their characters in, to enable us to grow up in an environment that they believed would make us the best people. It would not do justice to the rest of my family and friends, by whose influence, which I could have received nowhere else, I am the person I am today. But more than anything it would take away from the history, struggle, and human spirit of the country from whose earth grew the food that would nourish me and make me strong, whose days and nights crafted my hopes and dreams, my justice for years and years.

This is why despite my two passports, despite my dual command of Filipino and English, despite my small eyes and Chinese surname, I have called myself a Filipino my entire life and have never gone by any other affiliation.

However, I recognize and acknowledge the struggles of people like, and not so much like myself. I recognize that as a man from Asia now residing in America, I have whether I wanted to or not begun to partake in the lived experience of Asian Americans. Some may have lived here their entire lives and have never been to Asia, some may not speak a word of the language their parents were raised on and some may even conceal their heritage in public fora, but these are all people with whom I now share an experience that only we will have in the entire world. As an Asian in America for the first time I am no different from their parents and grandparents, brought far away from our homelands in the East to a strange land full of wonder and unfamiliarity, joy and sorrow, despair and promise. It is in this kinship that I feel the need to speak the way I do, and make no mistake, this is no apology. Merely an explanation and resolution, and affirmation of who I am and what I stand for.