This week at CAUSE has been an absolute pleasure! We had the privilege of having a financial literacy workshop from the Covington staff. As a first-generation low income student I don’t have a lot of resources to receive information about investing, IRAs, etc., so I really appreciated CAUSE for providing us with that resource and that information. I am aware that investing is a key factor in economic growth and being able to retire so I am grateful for that piece of knowledge that was shared with us.
This week at CAUSE we also had the amazing opportunity to visit the Pacific Island Ethnic Art Museum (PIEAM). Although Filipinos may be thought of as Pacific Islanders, I personally identify more as Asian, but that did not prevent me from connecting with the art in the museum. Fran Lujan, the Museum Director, had instructed us to ask for permission from our ancestors to enter the museum. I must admit, I was a bit intimidated entering the space at first. I felt like I had to be really hyper aware and be extremely conscious of the things that I said and the things that I do. Yet I recognize that this feeling should not only occur in this museum, it should also occur in all of the spaces that I occupy.
After Jason Pereira, the Resident Artist of PIEAM, shared with us his artistic process of the mural he painted for the museum, we were able to wander and enjoy the other pieces. Unlike every other museum I’ve been to, PIEAM encouraged us to touch the pieces they had if we felt called to it. She recognized how being able to physically connect with a piece of art can bring out a certain set of emotions.
At the museum there was a little roof made out of what looked like dried leaves and bamboo and it reminded me of a house that my mother’s family had in her province, Pangasinan.
Seeing it brought back a core childhood memory I had of me sleeping in this house made out of bamboo. I was probably 3 or 4 years old around this time but I recall sleeping on the bamboo bed inside the little house, yet the next morning I recall the image of the sun shining through the gaps of the bamboo from under the bed. Somehow I had managed to roll off the bed and find my way underneath it.
For some reason seeing this piece and being reminded of my mothers home made me incredibly emotional. I could not help but cry while I was sitting inside of it. I felt entitled to ask my ancestors for forgiveness for forgetting my roots and not being able to bring my mother back home for 15 years. As an immigrant I had felt the need to assimilate to American culture in order to survive. Yet this assimilation meant that I had to give up a huge part of my culture, my identity, and myself. Seeing this little roof reminded me that there are parts of myself that I had been forced to hide away for the sake of fitting in. Having the ability to really reflect on this experience has taught me that my Filipino identity is something I no longer have to hide to achieve the American dream.