No Filipinos in America

I am Filipino
Born and bred, Manila girl
I don’t eat dog, never have, never plan to
I am not a made to order, maid material, mail order bride
I am a citizen of a democracy, not a colony, not a far off US State
I speak English at home, not Spanish, not gibberish
I cannot translate Ralph Ellison novels into my native language
But since when was nationality dependent on that.

I am Filipino
Bred and raised on Sago’t Gulaman
I am not Catholic
I am not ascetic
I am not barbaric
I am not a pathetic reflection of my colonists
I am not always nationalistic but I try to be
But that doesn’t make me any less Filipino than the Maria Clara next door.

I am Filipino
Raised and taught to be passive
I should not speak up to my elders
I must not scream or shout when I’m hurt
I must take all offenses as a chance at martyrdom
I am doing all this for my family and my country
I should learn to listen and accept
But I was never good at subordination, revolution is my middle name.

I am Filipino after all.

There are no Filipinos here
If there are, I have missed them
Mistaken them for something else
Did not hear the sounds of my mother
In the voices that laughed just like everyone else
When I asked them if they were like me

There are no Filipinos here

You are different, they said,
We are Americans
We are citizens
We are Asian-Americans
We are people of color
We are minorities
We can pass as Chinese
We can look Latino (I
have Spanish blood you know)
We are rich doctor’s sons
We are working women’s daughters
We did not grow up climbing trees,
with blackened feet that ran barefoot
On city streets, chasing after things
Blindfolded, yet laughing.
There are no Filipinos here
And if you are smart
You would join the invisible multitudes
Clear is closer to white than brown.

-Shiloah Matic