A Search for Tongue and Truth: Uncovering Underlying Assumptions

“You better watch where you’re going,” the tall, old white man lectured while pointing his finger at me.

I flinched at the cold remark.

Unable to respond, I just stood there, and watched the man walk away. Shame, fear, shock, and anger suddenly took over. Even if the stranger had a point, I was still upset at the way he delivered it. This incident made me feel helpless and incapable of defending myself. Walking the busy streets of New York suddenly seemed so terrifying. The tears welled up in my eyes and I tried to calm myself down by doing some reflecting. Once I recovered, I decided that this was just something to charge to experience. I told myself: from now on, all I have to do is be more street-conscious and not get in the way of others. I was not going to let this one incident take away my enthusiasm and the excitement I felt starting and living my new life in New York.
A few days later, another discouraging incident unraveled.

“Chair” the sour-faced redhead and blonde spat out with a nasty chuckle at the end.

“Oh did I pronounce it wrong? I’m pretty sure I said Cher,” I responded nonchalantly.

And just like that, down and out went the glimmer of hope and optimism I felt starting university at NYU and living out the rest of my college years. I thought to myself: “With these girls coming in and out of class silencing others not like them on a daily basis, how can I overcome and tear this racial and linguistic barrier they’ve created?” I felt so small, silenced, and inferior. All that turned into silent frustration and essentially, a form of oppression and submission.
As Freshman year went by, and Sophomore year began, I saw more and more instances like those mentioned above unravel right before me -- both inside and outside the classroom. These unsettling moments accumulated and presented opportunities for personal growth, which pushed me to develop a voice of dissent and a bold demand to be heard. A class discussion on “What is good teaching?” sparked my desire to acknowledge and challenge the internal (within ourselves) and external realities (with others) we face in and beyond the classroom due to the ethnic, linguistic, and racial assumptions we unknowingly or knowingly carry around. David Kirkland came to the same class (course name: American Dilemmas) and blew me away with his quippy talk and culturally-relevant activity. He asked my classmates and I to describe ourselves: what we are and what we are not… Nobody has ever asked me to describe myself to that extent in the classroom! Not having clear guidelines felt strange, but it was also liberating and therapeutic having some time to reflect deeply on who I am, but also jarring having found that I don’t exactly know how to describe myself. It took me a while to calm down, brainstorm, and translate my abstract thoughts into written words. Note: this exercise made me realize that writing becomes easier if it’s done straight from the heart!

Below is what I managed to produce with a couple additions:

I am not silenced by the wolves.

I am not a calm, still sea.

I am not a dalagang* Filipina who absorbs local traditional female stereotypes like a lifeless sponge.

I am not not good enough.

I long to be the cheeks: an essential body part that conveys human emotions.

I long to be a statement and exclamation point -- one that is full of conviction!

I long to be freed and to liberate.

I long to be heard and to hear.

I long for others to realize that language and accents should not define anyone’s class, worth, nor intelligence.

I long for more Filipinos to return home where we will all work together to rebuild and improve the nation using our strengths, experiences that give us wisdom, and expertise.

I long to instill the long-lost local pride in communities that feel detached from their Filipino roots.

I long for us to rise above shallow and arbitrary excuses to discriminate against one another, and learn to respect each other’s cultures, especially our own.

I ask: How can we change and replace our current conception of education with a more humanized pedagogy?

I ask: How can we include the science of human connection in our current skills-based education?

I ask: How do we tear down this oppressive social barrier?

I ask: To what extent should teachers intervene when they see this oppressive barrier form and affect classroom dynamics?

I ask: How do we not oppress the oppressor while uplifting the oppressed?

I question: Why do we shy away from contentious conversations on race, racism, religion, and other real-life matters?

I ask: How do we teach ourselves to see social and racial realities unraveling right before us?

I ask: How do we begin to uncover these underlying assumptions?

One of my current teachers, Pam, responded to my inquiries and told me something that struck me: “We can either choose to hide from truth and pretend it's not there or embrace the beauty and gift that truth and new realities give us.” She’s right! If we truly long for change and a “wonderful world” to live in, as Louis Armstrong would sing, then investing attention and time to action and reform will get us there. It is empowering to know that change can actually happen through us!

Amidst all the realities that my religion, age, ethnicity, race, gender and social class bring, I find safety and refuge in my own words and space. If you ever feel silenced, try searching past this silence, and turning it into something visible. Try composing a rap or song of your choice of genre. Try interpretative dancing, painting your feelings, sketching, writing, or joining controversial conversations. Get it out somehow. Expressing yourself is the most liberating and empowering feeling in the world! Perhaps, you could try writing what you are if you’re stuck. If you wish, write out four lists stating the following in any order:

“I am…”

“I am not…”

“I long to/for…”

“I ask..”

“I have become…”

To wrap this up, here is the end of my poem:

I am a fallen yet resilient eggshell looking to find and retrieve its missing parts.

I am a spectrum with extreme ends and a constant eruption of intense emotions.

I am a sizzling yet contained firecracker waiting to explode into its true colors.

I am a proud Filipina who embraces her non-western accent, natural enunciation, and culture.

I am a burning question mark that longs to be an exclamation point!

Actually, scrap that last line.

I have become an exclamation point and so can you!