Sometimes, it’s hard to explain what it’s like to be multiracial, like playing Twister with one hand in “White” and the other in “American” and your foot (I almost said “the other,” as in hand) in “Filipino.” It’s hard to explain what it’s like when you’re Filipino American. It’s hard to explain what it’s like to be an invisible majority minority.
And when your people finally have a hero that becomes a household name, it makes you feel special. It makes you feel like you could do anything in the world. And for being a part of such a solid, community-oriented culture, it’s really, really difficult to know how to feel when that hero says something that hurts so many others.
Yet it’s also hard to reconcile your feelings of respect and knowing how hard it is to reconcile your own beliefs with your culture’s strong Catholic tradition. I joke about being “culturally Catholic” sometimes, but it’s a daily negotiation to interpret the Church’s beliefs and proclamations with my own reality.
My heart goes out to my kuyas and ates and titas and titos and so forth and so on who not only struggle with this, but who also struggle with knowing that the culture still has a ways to go in terms of LGBTQ rights and that it affects who they are, their identity, day in and day out.
So please, take a moment, to read this. Because it’s so well-written–and I’m proud to say that, in a way, the author is my family, too.