In a small Texan town, I was born a first-generation American, a second-generation immigrant. For a majority of my childhood, I didn’t understand what being a Filipino American meant.

I didn’t know the Philippines is made up of 7,107 islands with eight major dialects (and then some). In history class we learned about Magellan’s unwelcome trip and the Spanish-American War, but that was it. Like, are you serious?

Where in our history books do they talk about the Philippine-American War besides the footnotes? Where do they mention the Philippines fought for its own independence rather than a change of ownership? The United States lost 4,200 people but the Philippines lost 20,000 combatants. There’s barely any mention of how Filipinos were a significant population in the farm labor movement in the 1960s.

Growing up as one of the two or three Filipino students in a class shouldn’t have bothered me as a kid. I had Sesame Street episodes to watch and multiplication tables to learn. Questioning my self-identity wasn’t in my planner but it was something I always observed. I may not have known it at the time, but I looked for signs that my identity–my existence–was valid.

Luckily in 2007, I moved out of the suburbs of Dallas, TX to the Pacific Northwest. Seattle became my home and the place which encouraged me to explore my Filipina American identity. I was almost overwhelmed by the huge, supportive Filipino community and how many resources were available.

So when the Filipino club at Seattle University taught me October was Filipino American Heritage Month my freshman year, I was amazed and almost ashamed I hadn’t known until then. My culture was being celebrated, I was aware, and at last I felt like I could belong somewhere.

This year marked the 50th anniversary of the Delano Grape Strike led by Filipino activist Larry Itliong. Without his leadership, the farm labor movement wouldn’t be so important to Filipino American history. Thanks to him and the support of Cesar Chavez (founder of the National Farm Workers Association which eventually became the United Farm Workers), more effort was made for fair immigration and labor laws to Filipinos and other people of color in the United States.

Larry Itliong (October 25, 1913 - February 8, 1977)

As of this year, California will formally recognize October 25 as Larry Itliong Day with special services in the birth town of his legacy, Delano, California. A strong Filipino presence remains in Delano as generations continue to thrive.

I would have loved to learn about that in grade school history books, but we were always given the whitewashed editions. I wasn’t even aware I was missing out on this information until over a decade later.

The experiences among first, second, and subsequent generations cannot be compared, and they shouldn’t be. This isn’t a competition and we all should recognize that. Each person experiences different pressures, stigmas, and microaggressions.

The story of my Filipino American identity cannot be condensed into one article much like how Filipino American heritage is more than one month of celebration.

My identity is an ongoing learning experience. I used to feel so embarrassed when people recognized me as Filipino. I felt worse when my identity was questioned. "What kind of Asian are you?" I had been asked a few times. It made me feel "othered" as if I wasn't enough to count.

As a commuter student, it's been hard to make it to meetings with the Filipino club on campus, but it's comforting to know it's there. Through it, I've made friends, attended the NWFASA (Northwest Filipino American Student Alliance) conference a few times, and learned so, so, so much.

NWFASA Conference at University of Washington, 2012
(Left: Me)

It's taken a long time to come to terms with why I used to feel so discouraged, but at least now I can say with pride, "Yes, I am Filipino."