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We Filipinos eat with our hands, drive crazy on the road, point with our lips
I don't think I'm contradicting myself PistolPete. Yes, I was born and raised in San Diego and my parents have instilled (and continue to instill) our roots of where they were raised by bringing us to monthly gatherings with fellow Caviteños that migrated from the Philippines to San Diego as we grew up. I've been on a few trips back to the Motherland and I came back feeling even more humble. My parents taught both my brother and I how to understand Tagalog, but speaking it was rather difficult, but yet I still try to learn to this day. You don't know me, so don't ASSume I'm lacking the Filipino culture I grew up with. CAMM719- I totally agree with you! I am Filipina-American whether you or anyone may think otherwise. So what should I claim, that I'm only San Diegan and only that? Yeah, sure buddy.— March 8, 2010 9:20 a.m.
We Filipinos eat with our hands, drive crazy on the road, point with our lips
I agree that this cover story could have been better written with A LOT more focus on the so-called "rules" that us Filipino-Americans had to grow up with rather than a story about her boyfriend getting in trouble with the law (and she being involved in that hot mess). I am also Filipino-American and was born and raised in San Diego from parents that moved here after my Dad joined the Army in the early 70's. Although he joined the military (after obtaining a college degree in mechanical engineering), he got out after two years after it served its purpose of bringing my Mom and then two-year old brother here to the U.S. (I was later created). =) Basically, my family was not your stereotypical Filipino family that was described in this story. My Dad was not in the Navy, we didn't shop at the Navy Exchange, MCRD or Commissary, my Mom was not a nurse, my brother didn't join the military after he got his G.E.D. and nor did I become a nurse or accountant when I got my business degree from Cal State Long Beach. Nor, thank goodness, did I think my parents were super strict with me and my brother as we grew up. I thank them for that because my teenage years might have been a little different with more sneaking around; which later turned out to be unnecessary since I was allowed to have a boyfriend while I was in high school and they simply trusted me. I was sadly bummed out because the title didn't quite deliver and I felt like we, as a reader were left hanging. I was like, "That's it?! Really?" Basically, the article didn't provide the wow factor to gain the cover story it was awarded. The stereotypes were mentioned, haha, I've heard it a gazillion times before, but I think it was exaggerated too much, especially with the Balikbayan box comment. You get an "A" for effort Mae, but this article was more blog-appropriate, not meant to be the cover story of the San Diego Reader. If you really wanted to focus on the "Filipino Rules," here's my two cents of the rules I personally had to grow up to: -go to CCD (catechism school) every Saturday morning starting when I was in kindergarten until I got my first communion, went to confession and got confirmed in the tenth grade, - don't get pregnant until I got married and finished school, - no sleepovers at friend's houses (they were allowed to sleep at our house though), - don't do drugs, - don't answer back to my parents (although I admit that I had major 'tude at times and deserved a slipper or two thrown at me, but it hardly happened), - do my chores around the house (do kids even do this anymore??) to earn my allowance, - try my best in getting good grades in school, - don't join a gang, - come home at the time we agreed on and on time when I'd go out with my friends, - don't smoke, and - don't get pregnant (mentioned twice for emphasis) These were my rules, probably many homes can relate to my list regardless of being Filipino-American or not. =)— March 7, 2010 2:37 a.m.