My Fil-Am Identity Abroad: "You Look Like Thai People"

When I introduce myself to my students, teachers, administrators and important guests here at the school where I'm teaching in Thailand, the conversation, without fail, proceeds in the following manner:

“Chan chuu Ryann. Pen khon American,” I say. Translation: My name is Ryann. I’m American.

I am usually faced by blank stares of confusion.

“Meh ka Paw maa jaak prathet Philippine, ” I add, just to clarify why I have black hair and dark skin. Translation: My mother and father come from the Philippines.

“You look like Thai people,” they offer.

I have mixed feelings when I hear this response. I am flattered to know that I have been able to blend into the northwest Thai/hill tribe culture I’ve been thrust into. However, I am certainly not “Thai people.” I’m Pilipino American. Thus, I am also internally disappointed that my heritage and nationality aren’t as obvious to those around me.

As Fil-Ams, we are at an interesting identity crossroads. We are too American to be Pilipino. We are too Pilipino to be American. We moved from the Philippines. We grew up in the States. Or, we were born in the States, and have yet to dig our feet into Philippine soil.

What does it even mean to be “Pilipino”? How can we understand our Fil-Am identity, especially while abroad? Sometimes, I despise this question. I hate the cliché answers that I come up with. Yes, I do love pan de sal, Kodakan, and a victorious round of mahjong. But there are other facts surrounding my identity that percolate in my mind. I am guilty that I never learned to speak Tagalog. I am ashamed that I’ve only been to the Philippines on two occasions, both of which were not long enough to feel like I belonged there. Am I truly Pilipino?

On some occasions, I’ve even found myself too afraid to introduce myself as an American. Overseas, Americans are perceived as ignorant, lazy and obnoxious individuals. And being in Northwest Thailand over the past six months, I’ve been criticized simply based on the fact that I’m American. I’ve heard the excuse that I don’t understand Thai culture enough to appreciate and value it, as I come from the States. I’m offended by this assumption, because I come from a Pilipino household and culture that certainly values family and religious faith, just like here in Thailand. I’ve been told that my reactions and comments are attributed to me being from the Land of the Free; the fact that I’m a college graduate with an array of experience under my belt is not even considered. All of these insensitive assumptions are unfair, but to take another persons’ criticism to heart would only prove that I’m accepting their claims.

Whether or not this is an identity crisis, I know one thing to be certain: I am a resilient and driven Fil-Am in the global society. Fil-Ams are unique, and crucial, to the larger Pilipino community. We should embrace the various facets that make up who we are, not fear them.

Behind Closed Doors: Fil-Am Mental Health

Mental health and safety aren’t regularly discussed in our society. Our culture as a whole has stigmatized mental illness, as if it were an infectious disease. In a recent report, the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) notes that the US mental health system is far from sufficient. Health services and laws vary across states, further deterring individuals from seeking help. However, in light of recent mass shootings, discussion on mental health in America is becoming more prevalent. But why must it take a tragedy to discuss something so important? The Fil-Am community, which has more easily assimilated into American society in comparison to other Asian communities, rejects the help-seeking mentality. In a study, E.J.R. David says that “cultural mistrust” plays a major role among the Fil-Am community. Mistreatment and oppression throughout Pilipino and Fil-Am history has certainly influenced this mistrust. However, one of the findings was that younger generations are more inclined to seek psychological help, as they don’t have the same concerns as first generation Pilipinos. Those more assimilated and familiar with American culture were more willing to seek help. Furthermore, the study found that those with a higher economic status have more opportunities to seek help.

Like in other Asian communities, loss of face and shame are feared among Pilipinos. As a young Fil-Am, I unknowingly lived with this mentality. I used to be afraid to open up and ask for help when I needed it. Sharing my most difficult struggles wasn't originally part of my personality, nor my identity. For me, admitting that I needed help required a lot of courage and a loving support network. It wasn't until my second year of college that I realized seeking help was even an option. After a referral from one of my advisors, I visited the William & Mary Counseling Center. I was afraid; I felt like I was admitting defeat, and that I wasn't strong enough to face my problems. I eventually realized that I was wrong. I ended up returning to the Counseling Center throughout the rest of my time at William & Mary. I attended meditation sessions, individual therapy, and, in my opinion the most helpful, group therapy. Being able to speak my mind, without fear of judgment or having to follow through with explicit advice, was reinvigorating. I knew I was being heard, and in turn, got as much out of it as I put into it.

After such a positive experience at the Counseling Center, I was proud of my newly-acquired love for seeking help. I found myself encouraging others to also take time out of their day to explore new outlets, be it exercise, lost hobbies, or seeing a therapist. I even got involved with student government and organizations on campus in order to spread mental health awareness.

I only hope that the younger generations can embrace this mentality, and encourage their peers and the larger Fil-Am community to do the same. We can only benefit from confronting Fil-Am mental health. Regardless of cultural expectations, it is important to be selfish when it comes to your personal well-being. Speaking from personal experience, I assure you: there is absolutely nothing wrong with asking for help.

Photo credit: Counselor.org