The Pilipino American experience is incomplete. It lists to one side; a balance has not yet been struck. One essential element remains conspicuously absent from our collective lives: the Arts. Pilipino Americans are a people engrossed with the process of making money. Lots and lots of money. Ever since the manongs and sakadas first came to this country in the Twenties and Thirties to earn their fortune in the sugar cane fields of Hawaii and on the farms of California, Pilipinos have envisioned America as the Land of Opportunity, overflowing with milk and honey (i.e. "money"). They come to secure for themselves a higher standard of living, better wages. To this end, Pilipinos today enter careers that "ensure" them a slice of the American dream (i.e. "wealth"). That is, they enter into the profession job market.
As a whole, Pilipinos—like virtually all Asians—subscribe to the human capital theory: higher education => marketable skills =>good job => big bucks. Thus, Pilipino college students find themselves compelled to enter the pre-professional track, if not only to assuage their parents. Fine. But these careers, prestigious as they may be, do not fully define the Pilipino American condition.
Since the very beginnings of civilization, every culture has engaged in some form of creative endeavor, be it song or dance, visual art or literature. Oftentimes these endeavors served some sort of political or social purpose; at other times, purely aesthetic. It is these endeavors which are not being undertaken. Where are the dancers, the artists, the writers of our generation? We have become too concerned with the balancing of checkbooks—so concerned that our community has become unbalanced. When my generation, the generation of Pilipino Americans that fills the halls of universities and high schools around the nation, finally comes into its own, what will we see? A proliferation of doctors, lawyers, businessmen and women, engineers, and architects. Professionals. Though our presence in the professional work force is crucial to our flourishing as a people in this country, that alone is not sufficient.
The Arts speak a language all their own. They reflect the life experiences of the people that create the art. A people's triumphs, their anxieties, their joys, their sorrows, their hatreds—all of this becomes encapsulated in a poem, or a play, or a painting, or a dance. It summarizes the experiences of a people more succinctly and powerfully than any dry, historical, written account could ever achieve. Where are our cultural historians? Who will be there to record our living history? We Pilipino Americans must certainly speak for ourselves, as no other culture shares exactly our experiences. During the Spanish colonial period, Jose Rizal did this for his generation. In the 1930's, Carlos Bulosan. Now Jessica Hagedorn has offered her contribution. But what of our generation?
maganda serves to help fill that gap. It exists to help make whole the Pilipino American experience. Within these pages, you will find the words and images of the Pilipino American community and those who are concerned with it. With our poetry, prose, fiction, and artwork we celebrate ourselves and our culture. We offer these pages as a forum: a voice for those in the Pilipino American community who wish to speak, and for those who wish to speak to the community. We encourage you to hear us, and even more so to participate. Our voice is not a solitary cry, but a chorus of euphony. We seek others to lend their voices to ours. One need not be a Berkeley student, or a college student, or Pilipino. The only thing our contributors have in common is the desire to express themselves and to help make whole the Pilipino American experience.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
If religion truly is, as Karl Marx put it in his legendary aphorism, the opium of the people, then Pilipinos must be among the most anesthetized people on the planet. Religion pervades the Pilipino American culture, mostly in the form of Roman Catholicism (though there does exist a small percentage of Pilipino Muslims and Protestants in this country). Organized religion coheres our community. For Pilipinos, it's nearly as vital to a unified community as the nuclear family. True, we no longer live in an era where religion is requisite for good citizenship; to label oneself as an atheist or agnostic today would not have the same, devastating repercussions that it had a century ago. However, Pilipinos do not relegate religion merely to the realm of the spiritual. Religion and the agents of religion—priests, nuns, ministers, bishops, cardinals, the Pope—affect all aspects of life: social, political, and familiar.
It is for these reasons that we focus this issue on religion and the Pilipino. We look at both the benefits and the pitfalls—for it would be naïve to think that religion has brought nothing but good to the Pilipino people—of religion. Our articles examine how religion was used as a colonizing tool in the 16th century Philippine Islands, and how Islam is politicized in the southern regions of the Philippines. Our poetry both celebrates and questions Roman Catholicism, that institution that weighs so heavily on the minds of all Pilipinos and Pilipino Americans. Of course, a focus is just a focus; it is not all-encompassing. (Indeed, we encourage submission, both poetry and prose, on any issue of concern to you.) In this same issue, you will find an interview, short stories, photos, and opinion pieces, covering topics that range from politics to interracial dating to Hollywood. Welcome to maganda #4.
J.R. Lagumbay Arguelles
