dearest daughters & son

An Addendum to my Master Plan for Raising Mixed Children

Dearest Daughters,

I hate to be a buzz kill and continue to post about such "serious" things as raising mixed children, but I'm sure Auntie Amy was not our only reader (present or future) that has questions, concerns and takes exception to what I post on this blog. To appease the silent masses, I have a few more thoughts on the subject. Two things.

We all want our children to thrive.

I think that all parents can agree they want to give their children the best possible chance at survival in the world that their station in life can afford. That's why we feed them and educate them. Teach them how to communicate. How to behave. Enrich them. How to make good choices. Surround them with good people.

So, that when we send them off to kindergarten, let them take public transit alone for the first time, permit them to have a boyfriend or girlfriend, kick them out of the house, even. Basically, when we're not around, they'll not only survive, but thrive.

This, in part, is why "being Filipino" should be a part of our daily lives. My children, more so than I, look Filipino. And despite what some would like to believe, this is NOT a colorblind world. Nor should it be. My children's heritage, ethnicity, culture and appearance should be a point of pride. Not of contention. So that when they go into the world, they will never be made to feel ashamed--actively (i.e. by overt racism or stereotyping) or subconsciously (i.e. by media). They will be proud of who they are.

To claim their Filipinoness is NOT to reject their whiteness or their Americaness.

Adobo and Buzz Lightyear: my master plan for raising mixed girls

Dearest Daughters,

Having biracial children, Lola and Lolopop made a conscious decision to raise us as Filipino as possible. Lola was born in the United States, doesn't speak the language, cook much of the food and is not Catholic (which is a big cultural aspect of being Filipino). So, raising us "Filipino" entailed surrounding us with a community of Filipino aunties and uncles, seeking out the annual Manila Fests around Northern California and teaching us a few words and phrases that my dad picked up in a Tagalog class. Other stuff too: buying books, teaching us to respect our elders, sending a rice cooker with me to college. And more!

I knew my dad was white, I knew I was part white, but most of my childhood I claimed to be Filipino, because that's the culture I identified with. Also, I didn't want to be the only "white girl" in my grade in predominantly Asian south Stockton. Then in middle school, when we moved to Marin County, I didn't want to be one of "those kids" who were cruel middle schoolers at a school aptly called White Hill; "those" mean kids also happened to be white, which in retrospect I can't blame them for. But imagine my culture shock and the associations I made between my first immersion in white society and being treated so meanly, made fun of for my smelly lunches and self-concious when the envelope to collect money for weekly pizza day circulated around homeroom. (I'll add for a point of reference, there was NO subsidized school lunch program at White Hill. Lunch was "catered" two days a week--pizza and burrito days--the rest of the days everyone brought their own lunch. The school I went to before had almost 100% participation in the free or reduced lunch program. My parents made enough money that we never qualified for free or reduced lunches, so we were accostomed to bringing our brown bags. But the fact that NO ONE at the school qualified for a subsidized lunch, shows that socio-economic issues were also at play.)

"What ARE you?" they'd ask.

"A human."

"No. I mean where are you from?"

"My mother's womb?"

"You know what I mean. Like what nationality are you?"

"My nationality is American. I was born here."

"No like what ARRRRREEE you? You know!"

"Oh! I'm Filipino."

Blank stares. Perhaps, they were considering what Filipino is or why I'm obviously so stupid. Perhaps both.

Tale as Old as Time

Dearest Daughters,

Today's lesson is in critical thinking.

What's that?

Here's something from my teaching days, stolen (as teachers tend to do) from my Social Studies Methods teacher, Brian Gibbs (no relation). When reading, for example, but also when looking and listening, there are four levels of questions that can be asked to help you learn about something. Asking questions about things, that's called critical thinking.

We'll use this as our "text":

(source)

1. The "text" - things contained in the "text" (could be a literal text or more abstract, a painting, a group of individuals, an advertisement), the answer can be found RIGHT THERE in the text. For example, Belbel and Danjo, what color is Belle's dress? Blue.

2. The "text" and itself - you have to look two or more places in order to infer the answer. For example, Belbel and Danjo, do Belle and the Beast like each other? Yes, because they are making eye contact and smiling.

3. The "text" and me - you need the text and your thoughts. For example, Belbel and Danjo, do you think that Belle and the Beast have a healthy relationship? No. Although they appear to like each other, Belle is reading to the Beast, and the Beast looks friendly, really their relationship is a result of Belle placating the Beast, attempting to "kill" the beast in him with kindness, while suffering his imprisonment.

4. Just me - your opinion, not so much on the text, but maybe a theme in the text. These are questions that you keep asking yourself after you've digested the text and you might ask them about other texts, situations, etc. For example, Belbel and Danjo, should Disney be perpetuating images of imprisoned women in emotionally and physically abusive realtionships? And how does this affect your own views of women and relationships? I'll let you stew on that one.

Oh, Disney. How I love to deconstruct the messages you send. In 7th grade I wrote a paper about what a racist and sexist film Aladdin is. Seventh grade. I've been fighting the man since seventh grade!

And yet, I let you watch Disney movies. Where did the middle school humanist, womanist, counter-culture revolutionary in me go?

I think she turned on Tangled, set her two year old and and seven month old daughters in front of the televsion and went to take a nap, leaving them the above primer in critcal thinking of course.

Children, Tangled. Imprisonment. Blond hair/blue eyes. Long hair/infantilization. Criminal love interest, tamed by a barely-legal, shoeless, under socialized princess.

Discuss.

(Also. I love that movie.)

Love,

Mommy

Disease, Contagion and Looking out for #1

I'm sorry, but how stupid and selfish can you be? I have n. o. sympathy for this guy even if he does have TB. I can't even imagine thinking: hmmmm, I have TB, but I'm still going to travel, on a plane, to other countries, to get married and have my honeymoon. Nothing's going to stop me! Not the hundreds of people that I could give my communicable disease including loved ones! Not the fact that I'm a lawyer and should probably have an ounce of intelligence to tell me that regardless of what the CDC official "told" me, I should not travel.

People! American people! White American people!

Okay, so not alllll white Americans, some are smart and have a conscience, but just another example of how people raised in purely white American culture always look out for #1. I don't blame them. That's how it works in this society. That's how you make sure to get your Frappuchino before he does. That's how you change across four lanes of traffic to make your exit of the 405. That's how our education system works, the economic world, the government, etc.

Nevertheless, you wouldn't catch any person of color with a sense of collective responsibility and concern jet-setting across the world to spread fatal infections. They would hole up in opium dens in ethnic-ghettos, like Chinatown, infecting each other and the occasional curious Orientalist... no wait, that was a century ago.

But, the idea of contagion remains today. We Americans wouldn't go to that neighborhood, or that restaurant, or that country. But, we'll take our small pox, STDs, TB, etc. and decimate indigenous populations, infect "comfort" women, and breathe on a plane-full of people. Okay, getting historical again, but still.

I'm sorry.

No, I'm not.

No, duh.

This news clip talks about the Venezuelan accusation that the US Drug Enforcement Administration is a "new cartel." Is this news?

Today in my World History Class we finished up community maps which the students were drawing as part of a lesson on "nation" building. Even though it's a "World" History Class we're looking at the Black Panther Party and how it 1) liberated itself and 2) built a nation (which are the elements of CDE Standard 10.10 in case you were wondering). Since "World" History ends up being a US/Euro-centric account of "World" events, I thought I'd stare that hypocrisy in the face and really talk about the real United States. We're taking the BPP's concept of nation-building, applying it to the community around the high school, then we'll take it global! But, I digress.

Le point is that when we started to talk about the "problems" in the community (i.e. drugs, gangs, liquor stores, poor street quality, homelessness, fast food ... a list they came up with), the blame or fault was placed on individuals. In fact, this is the answer I expected, but I wanted to lead them in a discussion where they would realize that, yes, there is a certain degree of individual choice and action resulting in these circumstances, but that institutions are also responsible.

Here's a recap of one discussion: liquor stores. Whose fault? The drunks. Why? Because they buy the alcohol. Why do they buy the alcohol? Because they're drunks. So, they're alcoholics. Why are people alcoholics? They can't solve their own problems. Are there other ways to solve problems? Programs. Like what? Programs. Where? I don't know. Okay, what about the stores? Why are they there? To sell alcohol. Why? To make money. Why don't they go make money in other parts of LA, why are they in South LA? Are all the drunks here? No, they just drink different, more expensive things in Beverly Hills, like there're martini bars instead of liquor stores. So, liquor stores/martini bars make money off of drunks? Yes and kids. Kids? Like with candy bars and chips; they make money like that too. Do you think that's where they make most of their money from? No. So why do they have candy and chips? So kids will come inside. Why do they want kids to come inside? So they can make more money off of them when they grow up. So isn't there a system, an institution there that perpetuates alcohol consumption and keeps people coming back for more? Capitalism!

Okay, you may think I'm instilling some conspiracy theory in the students, but I was mostly trying to challenge their conception that all problems in society are the individual's fault. Which ultimately didn't work, because many of the students cling to the illusions of the American Dream, meritocracy and choice.

So, back to the US DEA: Now, they're just accusations. And I'm not saying that there is a US government conspiracy to pump free drugs into the country at the expense of brown lives, to make a pretty penny whilst neo-enslaving the brown and black youth of our nation who sell the drugs, thus perpetuating not only drug-dealing activity, but drug use, gangs, violence, etc. No, I'm not suggesting that.

But, if these "accusations" are true, doesn't it make it easier to see how the problems in our society, like drugs, are part of a bigger picture? It's not just down-on-his-luck Joe who, if he were a stronger person, wouldn't have become addicted to drugs. We must consider the bigger picture and ask questions. Why was he "down-on-his-luck"? Why couldn't he get back on his feet? Why did he seek drugs? Why and where were those drugs available? Where did they come from? Not just what dealer, but where did the dealer get the drugs and they guy before him and the guy before him? And who makes the most money off of all of this? And whose lives are exploited or lost in all of this?

More coherent today.

I guess what I really wanted to write about yesterday was not only frustrations about being an inept educator from time to time, but also about the reason behind why marches and demonstrations like those that took place yesterday in Los Angeles have and need to happen.

I just didn't have the fodder.

Consider my fire fueled.

Last night "non-lethal projectiles" (a.k.a. rubber bullets) were used to disburse the apparently "unlawful assembly." According to Police Chief William J. Bratton:

[...] "certain elements of the crowd … began to create a series of disturbances."

During that activity, Bratton said, "Missiles were being thrown at the officers, and officers [were] responding."

Missiles? Riiiiiight. According to NPR which I listened to this morning on the way to school, the police were pre-assembled in riot gear. Only one person was arrested for this "series of disturbances" and more than a dozen people were injured, including reporters.

Okay, so there's the police issue, which is heavy on my mind considering the recent 15 year anniversary of the 1992 "riots" (uprising) which we'll be discussing in my U.S. History class at the end of the week to culminate our Civil Rights unit.

But, what gets my goat more is the general sentiment expressed by a coward of a man on NPR this AM who, granted, gave his name, but not the Los Angeles City department he works for (because he knows I'd sent him hate mail): "I'm sorry if you're poor, but your revolution is not here; it's in your country with your corrupt dictators." He also talked about how Los Angeles is overcrowded and how our schools used to rank among the top in the country (in the 1940s, mind you), problems for which immigrants are apparently responsible. Oh, right and also: "They should have rounded them up" at the march yesterday. "What's going on here," he says "is brown supremacy." (Did he really say that?!?!)

What is frustrating for me are that there are certain truths in what this man and others like him say; it is a logic that one can easily be sucked into. But his analysis is superficial; it does not take into account the factors of globalization (HELLO?!?!?!), our own countries labor and economic history, race, California's history/agricultural economy, neocolonialism, cultural imperialism, etc., etc., etc.

Yes, there should be revolution in 3rd world countries (yes, I'm using the term "3rd world" because I'm reading The Darker Nations: A People's History of the Third World, part of Zinn's People's History series, highly recommended, which legitamizes the term, as it is a better descriptor of the role of these nations in the world than the deficit-thought laden term of "developing world." end mini-rant.) Yes, there are corrupt dictators. Yes, Los Angeles is crowded. Yes, schools are worse.

No, not all countries from which immigrants come (documented or not) have corrupt dictators. No sir, the revolution is here. Our 1st world, capitalist, neocolonial influence is directly connected to the conditions in other countries. Where do we get our corn? Where do we get our bananas? Where do we get our soy? Our Starbucks? Whose land, whose self-sufficiency, whose self-determination in whose country is lost when the forces of globalization and multinationals move in? Not mine. Not yours. The revolution is not with the "corrupt dictators" but with the government and people who collude with those dictators, who supply them weapons and who put them into power in the first place, because the United States had something to gain for it.

Thank you.

Next question.

Why is Los Angels overcrowded? Is it? Or is it just overcrowded with undesired "brown" people. Why is any urban center overcrowded in the United States? That's where the economic opportunity is. For everyone, not just for you, Mr. Jerkface. It's cheaper than the suburbs, or at least it was; it seems as cities undergo gentrification, the urban-suburban divide may soon switch to reflect older world cities, like Paris, where the poor were pushed out to the suburbs while the wealthy moved back in. Historical discriminating real estate practices (i.e. covenants, red lining, ghettoization, commercial investment or lack thereof) are also culprits in the development of housing and settlement patterns.

Why are schools worse? Or are they? They still "work"; they still do their job of providing a labor force. If you graduate students and send them to college, especially brown and black ones, who will clean your house? Who will serve you fast food? Who will harvest your strawberries? Not to mention the critical thinking skills that are deprived students when standards-based curriculum reigns supreme. But, why would we want critical thinkers? Then they would criticize our economic system, racism, schools, the government, even. And God forbid any of those brown and black kids become leaders. I mean they can become community leaders and we'll write a piece in the paper about them, but not CEOs or governors, maybe president, but only because a black man is a better option than any woman.

Okay, and not everyone at the march was an undocumented immigrant. So, I dare you. Go! "Round 'em up!" Then, who will work in the fields tomorrow? Landscape your yard? Sew your clothes? And! Not all undocumented immigrants are Latino. If you're rounding up the Latinos, then I'd like to see you get the Canadians too, the Irish and the rest of the visa-overstayers (read: not the people crossing deserts or jumping ever-expanding fences, monitored by ever-more border patrols) who comprise the majority of "illegal" immigrants.

And "brown supremacy"?!?!? Come on. Really?! I don't even know what to say to that other than that I am guilty of thinking brown babies are cuter than white ones. Whatever sliver of the black and brown community that really believes that brown and black peopel are superior to whites, still comes up against a racial and economic system in the United States which every day tells them otherwise. Look around, people. Get out of the Hills, get off the beach and head east or south. Take your pick; just head somewhere out of your ass.

End meta-rant.

news, news, news

In case you were wondering what else is happening in the world while news programs (even NPR!) are busy reporting all day on the latest findings at Virgina Tech...

A sad story about a whale which reminds me a little of Humphrey the Humbacked Whale; except he didn't die or not tragically at least. He was last seen in 1991, so he might be dead now, but it was probably of natural causes, so that makes me feel better.

Don't get me wrong, I am sad about the other news going on in the world... oh, let's see... the recent Supreme Court ruling that does not reverse Roe v. Wade but is certainly on the path to eliminating the right of women to choose their reproductive destiny. What else? The recent bombings in Bagdhad that have killed more than 200 people. Global warming, genocide, poverty, gang violence, domestic violence...

Oh right, the "massacre"! Sad? Yes. Tragic? Yes. Newsworthy? Yes. But, there are other things going on in the world. I have other criticisms, but I'll leave that to angry asian man and poplicks.

Wherein I admit that I like two things I would never admit to liking.

San Leandro and Starbucks.

The Starbucks in San Leandro, to be more accurate, which I suppose is really just one thing, not two.

Last night I went out with my high school friend, Monica, my HarMonica. We got in the car. I started the engine. And then we sort of sat there and had that whole Jungle Book vulture conversation: What do you wanna do? I dunno. What do you wanna do? I dunno. What do you wanna do? Etc.

Having spent the last four years of our lives not in San Leandro and never being a 21+ in San Leandro, we didn't really know what to do with ourselves--not to mention the fact that there isn't actually anything to do in San Leandro anyway because it's basically just a place where people live and shop at any big-box chain store imaginable... which leads me to my anecdote about the San Leandro Starbucks which you have all been waiting so anxiously to read.

Looking around Starbucks this morning, waiting for my grande non-fat latte, I realized that despite all the capitalist evilness that Starbucks represents and despite all the suburban evilness that San Leandro represents, neither are really such bad places after all. While San Leandro certainly promotes its fair share of strip malls and its auto-row, while it has two Targets and a Wal-Mart, and while it was once a haven for white flight out of Oakland, it really has become an amazing intersection for people from a wide range of socio-economic and racial-ethnic backgrounds. And you can see them all at Starbucks, which is perhaps Starbucks' only redeeming quality. Well, that, and their fair trade blend. And their uniforms are pretty decent as well. I digress. I think what will best illustrate my point are descriptions of the people I watched today as I participated in evil.

• A brunette wearing a really chunky sleeveless sweater that by no means flattered her very large, most likely artificially constructed chest, which was, in addition, boosted up to HERE closer to her puffy lips and line-less forehead, thus drawing attention away from her shockingly very flat bottom.
• A white, forty-something woman with graying hair, fairly stylish jeans and a DKNY long-sleeve thermal shirt, who threw it all off by wearing bejeweled black Birkenstocks, an interesting balance of fashion forces that parallels her response to the barista who messed up her drink, in which the woman noted the mistake, but graciously took the grande, non-fat, 165 degree, vanilla latte with whip instead of what she ordered: the whole milk version.
• An eighty-something man with socks up to HERE, who with a thick Eastern European accent tried to reason with his five-year-old granddaughter, convincing her the benefits of a fruit cup over a sprinkle donut, but who ultimately bought her the donut and hot cocoa.
• Two Latina EMTs.
• Two Latino electricians.
• A lanky, young, white, and suit-clad religious looking fellow (as evident by the Bible tucked under his arm).
• Teenagers.
• A "burnt-out," skinny, bearded, 40-something white man who looked like he'd seen better days, or like maybe he'd seen too many bad days.
• An Asian woman in white Chuck Taylors and khaki cargo shorts who could not possibly get out of the coffee shop any faster.
• Two laughing Latina women meeting for coffee.
• An older black man with a white beard mentoring a young black man over a shared apple fritter.
• And me.

Sometimes I wish that I were a white man.

Not only could I pee standing up, but I'd have all the privileges the world has to offer. I could command and demand. Not to be mean or with mal-intention, but simply because I couldn't or wouldn't frame my world in any other way. You know, I can't even imagine what it would be like, really. Because I'm already the way I am. A woman. Of color. Twenty-two. Who's been conditioned to hate herself. Sacrifice. Go out of the way. Compromise. Take the second best. The last helping. Cow-tow. And say Please Thank You and No Thank You in all circumstances, whether Please-ful, Thank-ful or No Thank-ful or not. This rant could continue for days. The fact of the matter is that I'm not a white man. I actually don't mind it. I actually enjoy being me. It's just not fair. And it's the reason that the custom Timbuk2 bag I ordered will be arriving late even though I ordered Next Day delivery AND they messed up my order. It's the reason my mom eats food she didn't order. It's the reason Hallmark greeting card characters don't look like me or my family.

As my mother would say, "Life's not fair."

Speaking of being proud of my niece:

I forgot to add "functional multi-racial/multi-cultural identity" to her list of adjectives. I know we get caught up in "identity" and with exoticising mixed individuals (though we are the best), but here's proof to those who would think otherwise that "racial-mixing" is as natural as can be: a story about a "mixed" polar/grizzly bear. Note to that girl from Kentucky that I met during high school (and others like her around the world) who told me that she'd never marry a non-white person because "she would never do that to [her] children" because it's just "unfair" and "not what [she's] used to": If two different species of bears can do it I think it's a-ok for individuals from the same human species who happen to look different to make babies. It's a cute bear after all!