It’s a story of in between
In between the roots of the homeland
And the promise of the dreamland
Stretched impossibly thin
By the dangerous pull of conformity
To sound, look, and smell American
To forget everything that makes you different
But how can I be fully American?
I’m not, according to Americans
My eyes are too small
My lunch smells and I say weird words
And by the demand to prove yourself
To be Filipino enough to claim the title
To take pride in everything that makes you different
How can I be fully Filipino?
I’m not, according to my relatives
I’m a coconut; brown on the outside white on the inside
I’ve never been to the Philippines
I can’t speak Tagalog
Are you American or are you Filipino?
I felt like I could only be one or the other
I’m either defined only by this
Othered by those who can only see differences
Or they don’t see who I am at all
My identity invisible when it counts
But it’s a hyphenated identity
I exist in that in between
To be fully this and fully that
All at the same time
I am both
I belong in this country
Like it or not
And I belong to a culture
Of rich history, language, food, and people
Believe it or not
We are proof of our grandparents’ sacrifice
A fulfillment of their dreams of a better future
Unafraid to chase our own dreams to the end
Filipino American, an identity built
On our forefathers’ courage and our hope
Their perseverance and ambition
To leave everything behind for a new start
And our duty to finish it