It’s that time of year once again where I celebrate that one special aspect of my cultural and religious heritage…
SAN FERNANDO, Philippines–Catholic zealots in the Philippines re-enacted the last hours of Jesus Christ on Good Friday, whipping their backs and nailing themselves to crosses in a grisly Easter ritual that persists despite Church disapproval.
It’s true that a good offense is the best defense.
In Filipino Martial Arts, a good offense sometimes involves taking your attacker and “picking the eyes out, and of course, let him eat it.”
Well, of course. Because why stop at taking out the kidney when you can FEED YOUR ATTACKER HIS OWN EYEBALLS!!
Just three of the reasons I’m proud to be Filipino:
Toadies of Filipino martial arts practitioners talk the best smack…
We take Good Friday really fucking seriously…
We… uhh… apparently also take cosplay really fucking seriously…
(The video’s in Tagalog, but you’ll get the gist.)
Reminds me of what Dad always used to say: “Aba!”
Two of my stories–“Good for the Gander” and “Tough Love”–have been listed in the 2009 Short Fiction by People of Color on the Carl Brandon Society wiki, and on the CBS’s blog as well.
It’s been a prompt for me to finally give some thought about readin’, writin’, & race.
Oh, wait–you were expecting me to have thought those thoughts and expound on them? Unfortunately, I’m not quite there yet. But, I have considered a few back-of-the-envelope points.
I’ve put off thinking about this topic since I started spewing words onto paper five or so years ago. I had horrible visions of writing some manifesto that starts “As an Asian-American writer, I…” or writing some story about some thirtysomething First Generation Flipino.
For years I’ve been hiding behind my beginner status. (You could make a good argument that I should keep doing just that!) “Just learn how to write and get to the race stuff later,” I told myself. And to be honest, I never felt any real pressure to get to it. But not only did I feel some internal pressure, and it was a horrible push/pull situation. I subconsciously feared how much would be riding on writing “my “Filipino story.” I was probably overthinking the whole thing. Thing is, growing up Filipino and Catholic instills a fear of fucking up like you wouldn’t believe.
(or, “How I Learned to Stop Worrying About Race in My Writing Until I Had Something to Say”)
The only thing I can offer in my defense is that you wouldn’t have wanted to read any “Filipino story” I might’ve written 2-3 years ago. But as it happens, I’m working on a piece right now with Filipino characters. Not because of any pressure, nor to make any particular statement. I’ve got a yarn to spinl about certain characters who’ve grown up a certain way, who have made or will make choices about their life paths.
More to come later, maybe.