LEARNING TO APPRECIATE MYSELF
BY: ELAINE PABLO
published
in Sandigan, 1991.
Being
a Filipino-American who was growing up in a
predominantly white neighborhood, where cultural diversity was not a
prerogative, caused me to have negative views about myself and my race. My parents spoke a language that was not
English and our daily food was not the typical meat and potatoes meal. My family's decorum with relatives, close
friends and with each other was different from what I had observed at the homes
of my friends. Even the way we
celebrated holidays and weddings were different from other families' celebrations.My differences from the other kids at school
and from the kids in the neighborhood led me to believe that I was
"weird." These perspectives
were my biggest barriers to self-acceptance during my junior high and high
school years.
I
was different in many ways, but the aspect of myself that tormented me the most during my
adolescence was my physical make-up. I
know that it sounds like a petty concern but during the early teens, when the
meaning of inner beauty is non- existent and being like the crowd is of the
utmost importance, so-called "flaws" in personal appearance are life
threatening. My perception of beauty was
based on what I was confronted with everyday at school. The prettiest and most popular girls in
junior high had a peaches and cream complexion with either blue or hazel eyes. Because I could never posses either of these
qualities, I felt grossly inferior.
In order to relieve my anxieties over my
appearance, I set out to change the parts of me I did not like. I avoided the sun for fear of darkening my
already dark skin. I fervently hoped
that my jet black hair would lighten to a chestnut brown. As for my eyes, the growing popularity of
colored contact lenses was my answered prayer.
In other words, I spent a great deal of time trying to transform myself
into someone I was not and time after time I failed.
By
the time I entered the tumultuous era of my life called high school, I had
experienced a succession of unsuccessful attempts to reconstruct my physical
appearance and I knew that it was time to give up the battle. I then began to dedicate my time and energy
into convincing myself and those around me that the physical differences did
not matter. I was born in the
In
the middle of my freshman year, I befriended a classmate who taught me the
greatest lesson of my life. From her, I
learned that being a member of a particular race consists of more than shared
physical traits. While I advocated being
"color blind" on racial issues, she ardently cried, "Notice
me. I am different!" Her ethnic differences are not as apparent as
mine are. She has the peaches and cream
complexion I once envied, but she is also part of a culture which she takes
great pride in. She made her ethnic
differences noticeable by openly speaking about the customs her family
practices and her dream of returning to her parents' homeland. In contrast, I denied being part of a
culture.
I
was insistent in believing that skin color, language and traditions are
irrelevant to a person's identity. My
friend guided me to the conviction that ethnicity is the foundation of a
person's identity. She once said,
"We should not ignore differences and fool ourselves into believing that
`everyone is the same.' Yes, we are all
equal but we are not the same. The color
of your skin is darker than mine and our parents speak languages which are
unlike that of our friends. You eat rice
instead of potatoes and I eat lamb in place of pork. There are many distinctions between cultures
and we should not be afraid of them. The
dissimilarities between ethnic backgrounds should not be hidden but celebrated
by all."
From
my friend, I came to understand that ethnicity played an important role in how
I viewed myself. I grew up with the
pre-conception that everyone around me was normal and I was the "odd"
one because I was not like them. I
remedied my insecurities by shutting my eyes to the obvious: I am a Filipino. It took me years to come to terms with
myself, but I now have the understanding that I am not "odd" or
"weird"
because my physical characteristics and customs differ from the
majority of my peers and their families.
Everyone is different from one
another. My uniqueness lies in the fact
that I grew up with the influence of two cultures. One culture is representative of my
citizenship while the other is the origin of my ethnicity.
I
still refer to myself as an American.
After all, I was born here and the American culture was a major factor
during my maturation, but I do not deny the fact that I am also a
Filipino. I may be somewhat Americanized
but the Filipino customs I grew up with have also been incorporated into my
life.
I am not ashamed of the way I look
either. In my later high school years, a
few of my friends envied me because my eyes were more than brown; they were a
deep brown that teetered on the brink of black.
I was also an object of jealousy because I did not have to spend hours
underneath the sun darkening my skin. I
have what everyone calls a "natural tan." The greatest lesson of my
life gave me the ability to understand that beauty is not only in the eye of
the beholder and not only does beauty come from within, but beauty is learning
to accept and appreciate the race I was born into.
My
old high school friend is now one of my dearest college buddies and even though
we are miles apart we are bonded by our appreciation for culture. In our separate lives, we are still learning
to cherish the various races and their traditions while treasuring our own
ethnicity. She is discovering the
magnificence of her race while the pride I feel towards mine grows each day
with the realization that BEING FILIPINO IS BEAUTIFUL.