Filipino-Americans, or “Fil-Ams,” are the second largest Asian group in America. Yet, despite our growing numbers, the younger generations often have little exposure to Filipino culture due to our lack of representation in American pop culture, as well as the flawed postcolonial mentality pervading Filipino mindsets. I talked to three other first-year women about their experiences as Filipino-Americans.
Abbie M. moved from Texas to Georgia and finally to Nevada throughout her childhood, leaving her little time to learn about the Philippines. Both her parents are Filipino, but she doesn’t know the language because they tried not to speak as much Tagalog and Bisayas in front of her. Tracy B. is also familiar with the experience. She said that her parents wanted her to assimilate into American society, so they gave her a “very white name” and didn’t speak Tagalog” so she could learn English. Meanwhile, Lexie A. grew up with even less access to the Filipino identity in a relatively conservative area in northern Kentucky, where there were no Filipinos other than herself and her father, who she stated never had a reason to share the language. In fact, I was the only immigrant and native Tagalog speaker among us four.
American television only adds to the invisibility. Despite our rapidly-growing numbers, our on-screen representation remains abysmally low. In 100 of the top grossing films in 2013, only 4.4 percent of speaking roles were given to Asians as a whole. We’re supposed to be happy with that tiny 4 percent of Asian lead roles that Scarlett Johansson doesn’t horrifically appropriate, but even those can be inadequate. Lexie summed it up best: “It’s assumed most of the time that if there’s an Asian person there, that should be enough for you. So much of it is, ‘oh, take what you can get.’” That is really what each of us had been doing for most of our lives—shrinking into the background.
Meanwhile, remnants of postcolonial thought stain Filipino minds. The media favors whiter skin to the point that skin bleaching treatments are common and encouraged in the Philippines. When Tracy goes to the Philippines, she uses an umbrella, a lot of sunscreen, and papaya soap to keep her skin lighter. Abbie was advised to do the same by her mother. Lexie, who has not yet been to the Philippines, finds the idea of skin bleaching “wild” because of how many of her friends compliment her tan complexion. Nonetheless, colorism thrives in the Filipino mindset through the silver screen, and it affects even second-generation Fil-Ams with few ties to the mainland.
But all is not lost. YouTube is a popular platform for many Filipino artists like AJ Rafael to excel in their natural state. YouTube is where Tracy gets most of her content, having once been turned off from the white-washed mainstream. Many are choosing the creative path in order to fill the gap that million-dollar blockbusters can’t fill. In the meantime, the Filipino women of Soka are busy trying to find a platform to help our community. Lexie might join the field of publishing where she hopes to facilitate creativity. Abbie dreams of starting a non-profit that promotes hands-on education. Tracy is considering a career in academia to study the issue of cultural exposure in the Filipino community. No matter what, none of us plan on fading into the background.