>> From the Library of
Congress in Washington, DC.
>> Francisco Macias: Good
afternoon and welcome.
I'm Francisco Macias from
the Law Library of Congress.
We have had a wonderful
series of events in observance
of Hispanic Heritage Month.
And I want to thank
all my colleagues
for all the work they have done
to make 2016 another successful
celebration of our heritage.
Today, I believe, we are
in for a special treat.
In observance of Hispanic
Heritage Month,
our special guest is the
award-winning Filipino-American
writer, Jon Pineda.
Because now Hispanic Heritage
Month could ever be complete
without talking a little
bit about the Philippines.
He is the author of five books.
His novel, Apology won the
Milkweed National Fiction Prize
and his memoir, Sleep
in Me made the Barnes
and Noble Discover Great
New Writer selection.
His poetic voice captured in the
following collections, Birthmark ,
winner of the Crab Orchard
Award Series Open Competition,
The Translator's Diary , winner
of the Green Rose Prize in Poetry
and Little Anodynes recently named
a finalist for the 2016 Library
of Virginia Literary
Award in Poetry.
A core faculty member in
the low-residency Master
of Fine Arts Program at Queens
University of Charlotte,
Jon is Assistant Professor
of English at the University
of Mary Washington and has twice
served on the teaching faculty
for the Kundiman Asian-American
Poets Retreat held
at Fordham University.
Of his work, Oliver dela Paz
stated regardless of the distance,
Jon Pineda's resolute and lyrical
language traverses the spectrum
of human conditions and eases
our lonely and troubled selves
into the possibility of joy.
A special note of thanks goes to
Baily Slaughter for bringing Jon
and his work to our attention.
And now we leave Jon in the
capable hands of our colleague,
Roberto Salazar, a senior
program specialist from the Office
of Equal Employment Opportunity
and Diversity Programs.
And now, please join me
in welcoming Jon Pineda.
[ Applause ]
>> Roberto Salazar:
Thank you, Francisco.
Good afternoon.
Welcome to the Library of Congress.
Our program's title
today, Filipino-Americans,
the other Asian Americans.
When it comes to labels of
identity, we have a tendency
to assume things about
others, don't we?
That means that what is it that you
think other Americans should know
about Filipino-Americans?
>> Jon Pineda: Yeah, I -- well,
one of the things when I think
about Filipino-Americans, the first
thing I think of is the family,
the way in which
so many Filipino-American
families are very welcoming
and very generous.
And, you know, this
isn't by any means,
it doesn't make them
an exceptional group.
I think there are other
cultures that do the same thing.
But Filipino-American families that
I grew up around, they have lots
of big parties, lots of
"lumpia," lots of "pancit,"
chicken "adobo," "bibingka,"
you name it.
And extended friends
were brought in,
treated in some ways
as relatives as well.
But as far as Filipino-Americans
in terms of their imprint
on American society, I think
it's exciting when you think
about how early they made
their presence known here
in the United States.
There's the mention of the
course of the 16th century
where the Filipino Americans had
come over to California and Spain
but after that, they're the first
Asian settlement, I believe,
was in 1763 and it was the St.
Marlowe fishing village which is
in just south of New
Orleans in Louisiana.
And it was there for almost a little
more than 150 years that it was able
to remain intact until it was
destroyed by a hurricane in 1915.
So the Filipino presence in
the United States is, you know,
has been here and then I should also
note that there were different waves
of Filipino-American or Filipino
immigration to the United States.
And so, if you meet
a Filipino, it's --
you know, the first
thing I'll ask is, "Oh,
you know, where are you from?"
Like in the islands, because the
islands, there are 7000 islands
in the archipelago and there
are over 120, I believe,
languages spoken in the Philippines.
So you can -- I have seen this.
I've been in situations
where a number
of Filipinos are getting together
and they're not necessarily
fully understanding each other
because they speak
different dialects
or they speak different languages
but yet someone who would, you know,
kind of see them might visually
think that they're somewhat,
you know, cohesive in
the way that they look.
But actually, they're from different
regions in the Philippines.
So my father is from
the island of Luzon.
He's a Pampangan and grew
up kind of north of Manila.
There are Filipinos,
let's say, from Mindanao
and the dialect they speak my father
wouldn't be able to understand.
So that would be one of the things
that I would offer is to say
that it's a small country,
the Philippines,
but within that country, there's a
very large community of diversity
that exists because
of the archipelago.
That translates when you think about
the immigration to the United States
with let's say the "Manong"
generation in the 1915 or 1920s
or so, the laborers that had come
to the United States
from the Ilocano region.
And typically settled
in California or Hawaii.
You know, this portion
of the Philippines has a
large connection there.
But then on the East Coast, a lot
of Filipinos came over
after World War II.
So with Filipinos and their having
fought in World War II especially
because of the Japanese
occupation, I have an uncle who died
in the Bataan Death March.
You know, it's something that --
like, when you really are looking
at the waves of immigration of
the Filipinos here, there --
you can point to different regions
and then you can also look at kind
of a class system as well that you
know, the recent wave of immigration
from the Philippines being
healthcare workers, doctors
and nurses but prior when
the Filipinos came in
and I would say maybe the third wave
after World War II,
they joined the Navy.
And my father came here
because of the Navy.
He was allowed to join the Navy
when he was still in the islands
and then transfer here and
then went through the rigors
in order to become a citizen.
So that would probably be the
first thing is just to say
that it's very diverse in
the scope of the community
of Filipino-Americans but at the
same time, it's also very tightknit
and a welcoming community too.
>> Roberto Salazar: You
touched on this in your comment
and that is the imprint of
Filipinos in the United States.
It's certainly not a new imprint,
dating back to the 16th century.
In fact, it was 1587,
October 18th of 1587
that the first Filipino
mariners came,
became the first recorded Asians,
if you will, that came to America
on board what was then the Spanish
galleon named Nuestra Senora de
Esperanza which as I
understand was under the command
of Pedro de Unamuno at
Moral Bay, California.
This was a time, of course, that
then in 1587 when California
and in fact, the Philippines were
part of the kingdom of New Spain
and so that certainly is a
significant historical moment
for Filipino-Americans.
I imagine there are
other moments of pride
for the Filipino-American community.
What are some of those
moments that come to your mind?
>> Jon Pineda: Well,
when I was growing up,
my dad would talk about
Roman Gabriel.
And Roman Gabriel was the MVP
of the NFL back in the late '60s
and he was mestizo and so
that was the first time
that in some ways the
Filipino-Americans in --
well at least in the NFL, that
here is this major accomplishment
that came forth.
But you know, there are also
multiple situations in sports.
You know, I think of that.
But there are also wonderful
political leaders that have --
I grew up in Virginia Beach, the
north of Virginia Beach area.
So that was -- I always
saw Filipinos.
And then when I moved away from
that area, I didn't see Filipinos.
So I got to come to find
out that there were --
I think when I was growing up there,
there were over 30,000 Filipino
or Filipino-Americans living
in that area at the time.
I'm sure it's much larger now.
But so I was kind of
insulated in that way.
But since then, there have been
city council members, you know,
House of Representatives -- those
are the ways in which, you know,
other cultures have made a positive
impact on the American society.
Another major thing that's
occurred in the last --
I guess in the last 15 years -- 12
to 15 years is that with Kundiman,
in the introduction, you know,
the greatest introduction is
that Kundiman is an
Asian-American literary organization
that was started by two
Filipino-American writers,
Sarah Gambito and Joseph Legaspi
who are now starting
to get lots of acclaim.
They're in New York.
And what they did is they were
able to create a community
of Filipino-American writers
who were winning prizes.
A number of us were starting to
kind of get our work out there
and they brought us together to
be mentors for the next generation
of writers who were or are coming
up and not having to think,
am I allowed to write about this?
They're just writing
about their experiences.
When I was first starting and
writing about being part Filipino,
there was a part of me
that felt as you know,
I wondered could I write about this.
And which, you know, was just
kind of showing just my lack
of I would say maybe even
courage as a writer, you know.
I needed to kind of
come to that on my own
but Kundiman has stepped
forward and since then fellows
from that program have won the Walt
Whitman Award which is, you know,
from the Academy of American Poets.
It's the best first book
by an American poet.
They've won these national
prizes, the National Poetry Series.
These are the kinds of forays
into American into kind of the --
the venerated American literature.
I also would say that the
Filipino-Americans were making a
major, major impact.
And they're becoming professors at
other universities and they are able
to kind of spread this knowledge.
So that, for me, has been an
unbelievably amazing impact
because these are our novelists
and our poets and, you know,
our fiction writers, our
creative nonfiction writers.
These are -- these are
the people that are
in language humanizing the culture
for a larger majority
in the readership.
And I find that fascinating
and inspiring.
And when I mentioned kind of my
lack of courage, it wasn't so much
that I was fearful of not, you
know, of having any kind of fear
but of not being able to
write about something.
I just didn't -- I didn't have
models for writing about being half.
There were no books
written by mestizo poets
who were directly addressing that
or at least models that I had found.
And some of my Filipino-American
writer friends would just say,
well then, you write it.
What are you waiting for?
You write it.
And I said, "Oh, yeah.
That makes sense.
Yeah, I'll write it."
And so now it becomes, you know,
we become part of that literature.
So I think that has
been a huge impact.
>> Roberto Salazar: And
indeed, you've been one
of the groundbreakers
in that regard as well.
So let's talk about your writing
and your creative experience.
How has that been reflected perhaps?
You know, how has it
been reflected --
your experiences of
Filipino-American
and what influences that
had in your creativity?
>> Jon Pineda: It's had
a lot when I would go
to these Filipino gatherings
when I was very young.
We, at the time, were one of the
only families who were mixed,
who were mestizo and I remember
just kind of walking around
and I would just hear
different languages.
You know, sometimes,
you would hear Spanish.
Sometimes you would hear Tagalog.
Sometimes you would
hear, you know, Visayan.
I mean, not that I speak these
languages with any kind of fluency
but I could recognize
certain things.
And so this attention to
language grafted on --
grafted on me in a very early age.
Now mix in that, that my mom was
raised on a farm in North Carolina
and very much from a rural
background in northeastern
of Carolina dialect so
there was also a way
in which I was understanding
that speakers
of English given their regional
differences bring other kinds
of focus.
You know, they use
language differently
and so I've always loved that.
I've always been fascinated
by the ability to communicate
and then striving to
make these connections
between perhaps disparate
communities.
In my situation, I was -- and
with writing, I've always found
that I can have my
intention, you know,
and that kind of begins
how I start writing.
But it's actually once I put
the language on the page,
once I have the words there then
I need to revise and see if I'm,
you know, building the image
in a way that feels accessible.
It's not over-intellectualized.
It's not, you know, preening.
It's not, you know, it's due -- I
want my poems to do certain things
but most importantly,
I want my poems
to have communion with the reader.
So I think my Filipino background
with the Catholic Church, it --
you know, we Filipino-Americans
have a very interesting relationship
with Catholicism.
Not different from
other colonized areas
that also have Catholicism
kind of placed on them.
But a love for saints, a love for
these narratives of sacrifice.
That was something that
growing up, I heard a lot about.
My dad would tell me stories about
and he would smile as he would talk
about these elderly women in
his village that would crawl
to the church on their knees and he
just really thought that was amazing
like in terms of the
faith that they had.
And so that was something
that impressed me.
Another thing has been the
way in which by being mestizo,
I feel as if I am one foot in one
world and one foot in another world.
But I'm never fully in one.
So when I'm with my Filipino
friends, my writing friends,
you know, who perhaps
might, you know,
have parents that are full Filipinos
and you know, [inaudible] this idea.
I'm other.
I'm part of the group and I'm not.
Same goes for my friends
that might not be Filipino.
So I think that also informs my
creativity that I understand that --
that alone, I have it, a different
relationship with the temporal
and what's transient, what
stays, what's permanent.
I'm not as interested in
dominating the idea of time.
I'm much more interested in
allowing for the sense of flux.
I'm much more interested
in hybridity.
I love experimentation
in the hybrid forms.
And identity is -- I'm
less interested in trying
to harken back to a tradition.
I'll acknowledge a tradition but I'm
more interested in moving forward
to where, you know, I
bring everything forward.
And that requires in some ways,
a relinquishing of the self.
I think as a writer
that's very important.
And so my own mestizo experience
in some ways is kind of
prepared me for that.
>> Roberto Salazar: Yes.
That almost sounds
as if you've been --
you've maintained this outsider
looking in perspective of sorts.
>> Jon Pineda: Yes.
>> Roberto Salazar: While not
losing your identity in the culture.
You touched on certainly what I
consider to be one of the impacts
of Spain on the Philippines,
Catholicism.
You touched on the fact that
the Philippines was part
of New Spain in the 16th century.
No doubt, there were many
other impacts that Spain had
on the Philippines and Filipinos.
What are some of those impacts that
carry through today that are evident
in Filipino and Filipino-American
culture that you've observed?
>> Jon Pineda: Well, yes --
the impact of Spain, I think,
is still present in the
names, in the language.
In Tagalog, you can find words
that aren't spelled the same way
as perhaps in Spanish but you
can -- when you hear the word,
it's almost as if an American
who doesn't speak Spanish was
phonetically writing Spanish
and then you see that word
and it's a Tagalog word.
That's something that kind of
sits there and ghosts its way
through the Filipino culture.
I find that that Spain is very
much a ghost in the language.
It's also this -- the way in
which the islands were colonized
and remained colonized
for over 300 years.
They -- there is this interesting
situation and the Tagalogs
that were the native culture
that was present in the islands
when Spain arrived, the Tagalogs
already had a written script.
They already had a
literature that they were --
you know, they had a language.
And that I believe
there's a written script.
You'll hear it referenced as
Alibata which I think is incorrect.
I think that that's been somehow
the term that's favored is Baybayin,
I think is the pronunciation.
And the script, it's
an ancient script.
And so, you know, when I
think about the way that Spain
with the colonizing coming
forward and taking the culture
that was there and molding it
in a way into the framework
of Catholicism, for instance, in the
Filipino history there is a term,
"babaylan" the shaman or priestess.
That they were very much a
part of the Filipino culture
at the time before Spain.
And so this idea of the
matriarch was in effect present.
So when you talk to
Filipinos, Filipino-Americans
about their faith, many will talk
about Mary -- the novena for Mary,
you know, the Virgin Mary very much,
you know, woven into that portion
of the Filipino-American experience.
I mean, my father when he
relocated to Mobile, Alabama --
he became friends with the
local priest and the first thing
that he asked was, you know,
do you have a novena for Mary?
And the priest was
like, no, we don't.
And my dad like worked
with them to set this up
and suddenly my dad said all these
Filipinos came out, you know,
from nearby because they
heard about the novena
and they wanted to
be a part of this.
So that's how I kind of -- that's
how I see Spain still being woven
into the cultures that
it's very much, you know,
the identity of faith for those who,
you know, who practice, it's there.
The food, you know, the
empanadas, the different --
and when you even look at --
again, I look at "lumpia,"
I look at the egg roll
and I still think
of like a tamale or
something, you know.
It's some kind of way in which
-- so this mix -- it makes sense.
The Philippines was colonized
not from continental Spain
but from New Spain, from Mexico.
And so to have -- and
because of that --
the Manila-Acapulco route with the
silver that was being moved back
and forth -- I mean, we're
talking hundreds of years.
And so that's, you know,
it would make sense
that there would be these
intersections of culture,
whether it be language,
or religion, or food.
>> Roberto Salazar: Aside from that
colonization, the fact still remains
that there is an ancestral Asian
culture that prevails and certainly,
you know, manifests itself
and then assume, I suspect.
How was that seen evident in
today's Filipino-American culture,
that ancestral?
>> Jon Pineda: You know, I -- it's
something that I feel when I talk
with my writer friends about this,
I think that this generation
is looking back
and trying to find that.
It's not anything, I would say,
that stands kind of at the fore.
It's more that a lot of my
writer friends are returning
so that the script that I
had mentioned is something
that Sarah Gambito from Kundiman
had brought to my attention.
And we were sitting around
talking about this very thing.
And she said, you know, do
you know about this script?
And she was, you know, sharing it
with other Filipino-American
writers and we hadn't.
We didn't know.
And so this was a way that
this was being presented.
In the same discussions, we've
also talked about the mythology
and these creation stories
that the -- I'm trying to --
"Maganda," the first woman,
beautiful then I guess
that was the word for beautiful
and "Malakas," I think is the word
for strength -- I think
was the first man.
And they emerged from
a shoot of bamboo.
I could be totally wrong but
this was like -- yes, so there --
so we've been -- our writers
have really embraced the idea
of these creation myths as it
relates to the Philippines,
as it relates to trying to
bring a voice to something
that perhaps has been tamped down.
I mean, that's an identity
that I could understand the
colonizer not wanting to, you know,
to have these stories
be so pervasive
because that allows
for you know, unity.
It allows for these ways on which
people can look back and say, oh,
we all believe this one
thing that we all agree
that this one thing exists.
Kundiman, just even the word itself,
the "kundiman" is a love song
that was, you know, that one
would write for a beloved.
But it was also veiled
in a way that was kind
of the love for the country.
So when you had these, the
"kundiman" being you know,
one would sing this, the colonizer
didn't know it was really kind
of harkening back to
the love of the country.
It's kind of a coded way
to speak about these things
in the face of oppression.
And that's how, I think,
the writers now
from this generation are
using the kundiman --
let's say the full umbrella of
the "kundiman" as this opportunity
to say, you know, of course
we're American so we get --
you know, we have these
freedoms but we're also wanting,
we're talking about our identities.
Now, we're also wanting to kind
of go back and try to understand,
to contextualize some of the things
that perhaps we should have
known but then we don't know.
>> Roberto Salazar:
You've been immersed
in this for some time obviously.
How does all of this manifest in
itself in your personal experience,
your personal American experience?
>> Jon Pineda: Yes, it has been --
it's been exciting because I feel --
I feel like I, you know,
was part of this club
that no one told me the
rules and no one, you know,
told me the password to get into.
But yet, they said, why haven't
you been here this whole time?
You know, this way in which
I'm looking inward and trying
to understanding one, you
know, my place like what --
from what authority can I
express myself and still be part
of the Filipino-American experience?
I'm fascinated by the
islands and as well
as the diversity of the islands.
I sense even outside
or looking in at times
that there are regional differences.
There are -- there are ways in
which there's contention based
on whether you're from
the north or the south.
There, you can now make disparities.
There are all these
things that kind of,
as for any country that's out there.
And so that, I think, carries it
over for those who've immigrated
to the States and then they set
up communities here and there.
And so depending on where you're
from, you have some of this bias.
As an outside looking in, I
feel like I'm able to, one,
study it in a way that isn't,
you know, it's not with contempt.
I mean, I'm studying
it with open eyes
and I'm very much interested
in them.
And I feel like the more I learn
about the Filipino experience,
the more I answer my own questions
of my Filipino-American experience.
And I've sensed that as we
continue on as a country
and as we assimilate, you know,
even more in these constructs
of hybridity come forward that we'll
have, you know, another generation
like for instance, my children
that are a quarter Filipino are,
you know, what does that mean
for them in their experience?
It doesn't make them any less, you
know, in claiming that heritage
in the same way that I have
other parts of my heritage
that I'm still learning about.
Like on my grandmother's
side in the Philippines,
her family can trace
lineage back to Spain.
And the name, Nunez, is one
that's part of our family.
But I've yet to fully, you
know, discover what that means.
And so I think this idea that the
culture has to remain static is one
that I personally,
I've never felt the --
I've never felt the
strength of that.
I've always -- I've always
derived strength from the fact
that it's shifting, moving and it
exposes itself in different forms.
And so, I'm very much interested
in that and in my poetics
as well is interested in my life.
>> Roberto Salazar: And of course,
we recognize that Filipino-Americans
are not part
of the dominant culture in America.
And when I say dominant culture,
I'm talking about the
predominant culture
which in America is typically white,
heterosexual male, Christian, right?
That being said then what
do you perceive as some
of the greatest challenges that
Filipino-Americans face culturally,
if you will, in terms of identity
within that broader American mosaic?
>> Jon Pineda: Well, I will
say that the communities
that I've encountered in Pensacola,
Florida, in the Virginia Beach area,
in out west in Oakland in
California, others in Seattle
in Washington -- that they're --
yes, they're divided regionally
and perhaps those particular
immigrant communities are, you know,
can kind of point to those
regional differences in the islands.
But as a whole, my feeling is
that there is so much pride
and the younger generations that
are creating these cultural clubs
at the university level,
at the high school level,
the community level
that they're there.
They're out there and you --
it doesn't take much to find
the dance competition somewhere
where Filipinos are
setting up something
or a hip hop, you know, venue.
Something where that -- so I think
the younger generation is not moving
away from the traditions.
I think they're just --
they're keeping them close,
but at the same time, they're
forging ahead in this idea
of you know, what does it mean to
be a Filipino-American right now.
Very different than what
it meant in the '70s
and '80s when I was growing up.
Now there's clearly more education
in the "Manong" generation
of the difficulties that the
prior generations endured.
Much more education and much more
attention and that's exciting.
I think that embracing the
history and at the same time,
expressing individuality which might
potentially mean a Filipino-American
that doesn't necessarily look
like a typical Filipino-American.
I mean, being open to this.
This is how the culture
will survive.
It's having that vision in some
ways of the mestizo that, you know,
one foot in one world, one
foot in the other world.
But the difference in some ways
that the new generation will have
that I didn't is that they'll never
ask the question, can I do this?
Like, it will be this is what I do.
And I'm excited by that.
That, to me, I find
extremely inspiring
and it's an empowering thing.
And I think about my --
again, my own children.
I have a son, we have
a son and a daughter.
And I love the idea
that they'll be able
to embrace their Filipino
heritage and at the same time,
not question whether
they're allowed to or not.
>> Roberto Salazar: That's
a [inaudible] perspective.
Those are the softball questions.
Let's get to the tough questions.
>> Jon Pineda: All right.
All right, let's do it.
>> Roberto Salazar: Let's reach
out to our audience and invite you
to ask any questions you may have.
>> I have one here.
I have Filipino friend.
She used to live in Cavite City.
And she said that the main
[inaudible] hero called Enrico Jose
-- can you explain about
that country's holiday?
>> Jon Pineda: Enrico
Jose, I'm not familiar.
Yeah, I know Jose Rizal?
>> Rizal, yeah, Jose Rizal.
>> Jon Pineda: Oh, okay.
So yeah -- so Jose Rizal was part
of the "Illustrado" generation
in the Philippines
which were the middle
to upper middle class Filipinos
that would send their children
to Europe for education.
So Rizal went to Spain,
as a matter of fact,
and studied to become
an ophthalmologist.
He was executed before the start
of the Filipino-American War.
He was executed, I believe in 1896.
He had written a piece -- or he
had written a number of works.
One in particular,
Noli Me Tangere ,
is a novel that in some
ways was an indictment
on the friars -- on
the Spanish friars.
He was seen as someone that
would disrupt the population
and give a voice to the Filipinos
in a way that Spain didn't want.
So what they did is they
made Filipinos execute Rizal.
But were, you know, like I think
that what the way it's explained is
that if the executioners
didn't kill Rizal,
the executioners would
have been killed.
So he was gunned down
and he's a national hero.
Yes and so, but that novel in
particular is the one that a lot
of Filipinos look to as here is
this Filipino that stepped forward
to criticize the treatment of
the Filipinos by corrupt Spain.
>> Right.
>> Roberto Salazar: Other questions?
>> You talked about
not really having
like Filipino writer
models growing up.
How do you feel about
being one of those models
for the next generation of writers?
>> Roberto Salazar: So just,
if I could just capture the
question for our camera.
The question is about how
you feel about being one
of those model writers since you
didn't have those models growing up?
>> Jon Pineda: I love it.
I do. It's something
that's it's a responsibility
that I don't take lightly.
I mean, I write constantly.
And I think about, you know, when
I'm publishing work, where one,
as an artist, I don't -- I'm
not thinking, you know --
is this going to be good for
the Filipino-American community?
Is this going to be good for
the Filipino presence in here?
I'm not thinking about that.
What I am doing though is I'm
trying to be honest as an artist.
And if I'm being honest as
an artist then by default,
I feel like it would
be important, you know,
to be part of the conversations.
As I was -- in our graduate
school, I was able to meet
and then find models of
Filipino-American writers.
There's so many that I adore.
But at the time, yeah,
growing up, I didn't have it.
And so that's exciting to give
-- to give that gift for sure.
And just even like, you know, on
the way up here, my son had said,
"Your books are in the
Library of Congress."
He said, "Yeah, they are."
He's like that's pretty
cool [laughter].
It is cool.
And that's kind of what, you know,
what it's all about in some ways
is that, you know, I'm here.
Not me like we're here
and, you know,
no different than the other writers
that are trying to speak honestly
about their identity, about
difficulties, about a number
of obstacles in terms
of what it means,
let's say to be an American today.
And so to have a place, you know,
at the conversation is exciting
and I would hope, very much
hope that any inspiration
that I could offer would get those
younger writers there faster,
you know, to save them time.
So they don't have to kind
of seek out the models.
The models are there.
They can, you know,
write their books.
>> I have a question
about [inaudible] in terms
of having a chance to go back and
if you have, have you had a chance
to talk with other writers, Filipino
writers and [inaudible] writing?
>> Jon Pineda: Great question.
I've not gone at all.
And we were supposed
to go a while back
and then life got in
the way a little bit.
My dad goes back often and as a
matter of fact, I was just contacted
by a first cousin I've never met.
And we've started kind of trading
some letters back and forth.
I'm surrounded by Filipino-American
writers.
Most of the Filipino-American
writers that are writing today,
I've either met or I'm friends
with and these are friendships
that go back now maybe 15
years -- if not 20 years.
I mean, when I was
in graduate school.
So I'm always seeking
out that community
and we share work with each other.
And you know, they'll
send me their manuscripts
when they're working on their books.
I just finished reading
this beautiful manuscript
by Joseph Legaspi and
it comes out next year.
It's called "Threshold."
Joseph is a wonderful
poet up in New York.
And his first book
has already been out.
But here's the exciting thing is
that when I met this community,
our books hadn't come out yet.
And so for years, we
would help each other.
And we were reading each other.
We were talking, meeting
at conferences.
We were -- we thought -- I don't
think we ever said this out loud.
But we thought -- I know I did.
I know in the way they
spoke about their work
that it seemed like
this was the case.
I think we thought we were
doing something very important
without saying, This is going to
-- this is going to be important.
And so over the years,
what's happened is
that these writers have all
been publishing lots of books.
So Oliver dela Paz, who's
mentioned in the introduction,
is a dear friend of mine.
And he wrote the foreword to Little
Anodynes and there are a number
of Sarah Gambito, [Inaudible]
Navarro, Pat Rosal,
Barbara Jane Reyes -- these
are all writers that have gone
on to win national prizes.
And I love that we have this
portion of the community.
I don't have -- I have a
pull to the Philippines
for curiosity, to be
there on the land.
But the Philippines that
exists for me is very ethereal.
It's a Philippines that is it's
in my "ninang," my godmother
from Virginia Beach then her family.
It's in, you know, the
stories my father has told me.
It's in having met so many
Filipino-American writers that we,
in some ways, have built our kind
of free-floating country of ideas.
So it's there.
I do want to go at
some point and many
of my friends have
gone on Fulbright's.
So I'm on a tenure track [laughter]
-- assistant professorship right now
so I have to kind of see that
all the way through first.
But once sabbatical is in the
air, maybe I'll try to get there.
That is on -- it is on my list.
And I remember, I spent a semester
in Italy and I recall talking
to my dad and kind of -- we were
talking and I told him that,
"You know, I'm sorry
that I'm in Italy."
Like there was a way in which
I had found a way to get
out of the country but I
didn't go to the country.
And, you know, his take has always
been, you'll get there one day.
But the way that my career has
been, my poetics and my writing,
it doesn't center around needing the
country to authenticate my voice.
My voice is more about the mestizo
experience being rooted here
as an American and it's separate.
But I, you know, totally want to go.
Thank you.
>> Roberto Salazar: Other questions?
Yes.
>> I have two questions.
You mentioned earlier that
your father was in the Navy
and that a large number of
Filipinos joined the Navy
and came to the United States.
Now that the Navy base is closed,
has that impacted the influx
of Filipinos from [inaudible]
to the United States?
And the second question is how
important do you think it is
to teach children the language to
maintain that tie to the culture?
>> Jon Pineda: So with
the first question,
I believe that it has impacted
without a doubt the American
presence in the Philippines.
As far as changing the wave of
immigration, I think legislation did
that because even in post-World War
II and opening the doors to a lot
of Filipinos to join the U.S.
Navy, there was still, I believe,
a number of around 50, no more
than 50 Filipino immigrants
coming in per year?
And then after 30 years of that, I
think, some more legislation came
to then allow for families
to join and things like that.
So I still feel that Filipinos
are coming via the U.S. Navy
but probably not in the numbers that
they were when my father was coming
in which was the late
'60s and the '70s.
There was also a way in which
Filipinos weren't allowed
to hold positions of leadership
in the Navy until, I believe,
after the early to late
-- the early to mid '70s.
So if you were in the U.S. Navy
as a Filipino, you probably worked
as a steward or in the
mess hall to some extent.
My father, I'm sure, began
in that way but was able
to become a senior chief in supply.
So he kind of went a different
route but he was in for a long time.
He was in for almost 30 years.
But the U.S. Navy has been
a tremendous opportunity
for bringing Filipinos here because
of the bases here and the States.
You can go to Norfolk right now
and find a huge Filipino-American
population there that the --
perhaps the grandfather of those
families came in to the U.S. Navy
and now the next generation
might be in healthcare or more,
let's say, a professional path.
As far as teaching the language
and for that language to a child
in order to have ties
to the culture,
I think it's very important.
I've -- I talk a little
bit about this in my memoir
because my parents
divorced when I was 10.
And I remember growing up and having
my dad speak Tagalog in the house
and then suddenly, he was gone.
And I lost that connection.
And it didn't take
long to just lose it.
There was a way in
which I could hear,
I could still kind of
hear certain words.
But even then, it wasn't
as if I was fully fluent.
But I had a very strong sense
that this was who I was,
like a portion of who I was.
And then so I found myself
like seeking out, you know,
go calling him and talking to him
and then later, as a teenager living
with him, going to live with him.
But my dad -- my dad really wanted
me to embrace being an American
in a way that you know, I
think to some it might sound
as though he was -- he was
trying to turn his back
on his Filipino heritage
and he wasn't.
I think he wanted,
he had a lot of pride
that his children didn't
speak with his accent.
And so I understand that.
I think there was, you know,
my dad's first name is Romulo
and when he joined the U.S. Navy,
the first thing his officer said is,
"You're Lou from now on."
Yeah [laughter].
We're not saying Romulo.
You're Lou.
And so, you know, that
kind of truncated way
that language functioned for him
and now he's suddenly
lesser of who he was.
I think that did something to him
that is probably not exceptional
to the way other immigrants
have faced these kinds
of similar obstacles except that
he didn't resent this journey
because it provided for his family.
It also opened up numerous
opportunities
that he wouldn't have never
had in the Philippines.
But we still, like I -- you know,
the beauty of the Rosetta Stone
-- do you know what it is?
I have this Tagalog Rosetta Stone
program that I've listened to
and have gone through
here and there.
And I'm still trying
to like relearn things.
And then I'll say something to
my dad and my dad will laugh.
And he's like, you sound like
an American speaking Tagalog.
And I'm like, that's exactly
what you wanted, right?
Yeah [laughter].
This is what -- yeah, here it is.
But we can have fun with that.
But I'd noticed that
like with our kids,
they've shown a huge interest in it.
So they still have him as a resource
but then we're hoping, you know,
as time goes on, these other
communities will kind of emerge too
so that they'll have access
to these Filipino-American
communities elsewhere.
When we go -- the food is
very much a part of our lives.
I can cook it from scratch,
you know, "pan de sal,"
the "pancit," you know, "lumpia."
I'm brushing the wrappers.
I'm teaching, you know, the kids
how to like paint on batter on so
that it comes up like, you
know, like paper almost.
So that's ingrained in us.
But I think it's because I had that
initial connection with language
and I hope that I'll be able to
[inaudible] this kind of carryon
with my kids like they're
interested in [inaudible].
>> Roberto Salazar: You have
some of your works with you?
Do you have a favorite?
>> Jon Pineda: Oh, I know
-- this is the trick.
Yeah, yeah.
>> Roberto Salazar: Yeah.
>> Jon Pineda: I don't
have a favorite.
It's not -- well, I, no --
the favorite is always the
book I haven't written.
Like it's the book that
I'm like working on, yeah.
But no, I do -- there are some that
are -- you know, there are a few --
would you mind if I read?
>> Roberto Salazar: No, please do.
>> Jon Pineda: Okay, yeah.
Okay so this is poem that opens
Birthmark , my first collection.
The poem is "Matamis."
Matamis -- one summer in Pensacola,
I held an orange this way.
Flesh hiding beneath the texture
of the rind and slipped my thumbs
into its core and folded
it open like a book.
When I held out the halves, the
juice seemed to trace the veins
in my arms as it dripped down to my
elbows and darkened spots of sand.
We were sitting on the beach then.
The sun, spheres of
light within each piece.
I remember thinking in Tagalog
the word, "matamis" is sweet
in English though I
did not say it for fear
of mispronouncing the language.
Instead, I finished the fruit and
offered nothing except my silence.
And my father who pried apart
another piece, breaking the globe
in two, offered me half
meaning everything.
>> Roberto Salazar: I'm checking.
If you want, you [inaudible]?
>> Jon Pineda: I meant to, okay.
Let's see [laughter].
This is always a good
one because in this,
the speaker has hair [laughter].
This is "Wrestling."
Before the season, we
were already pissed.
Our bodies tightening around ribs.
Our eyes like panthers
sinking in the shadows.
We had given up food, sweat until
the air around us was heavy.
The only thing we cared
about was winning.
At our first match, I wrestled
a guy I had met summers ago
at a Filipino gathering, some
First Communion or baptism.
By a manmade lake separating the
neighborhood in two where most
of the children had wandered, a
few of the boys pinned my shoulders
against the tree while
one punched me.
I could say it was because
I was only half, a mestizo.
But that would be too easy.
We were just boys,
happy in our anger.
When they let me go, their
eyes clouded as the lake.
I didn't say a word.
Years later, when I pulled the one
who had punched me down on the mat,
I watched the clock as I locked
the breath inside his throat.
He could have been my brother.
His hair the same coarse
black strands.
His face filled with my shadow.
I held him there in
front of everyone.
>> Roberto Salazar: Jon Pineda,
trailblazing the Filipino-American
narrative.
Thank you so much for
sharing with us.
>> Jon Pineda: Thank you so much.
[ Applause ]
>> This has been a presentation
of the Library of Congress.
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