PART of growing up is the in-between world of innocence and maturity, and the Filipino dimension to this developmental limbo is portrayed and problematized in Growing Up Filipino (Philippine American Literary House, 2004), a collection of short stories for young adults edited by Cecilia Manguerra Brainard.
An author of historical fiction books such as When the Rainbow Goddess Wept, and founder of the Philippine American Women Writers and Artists, Brainard features 29 stories written by Filipino writers such as Cristina Pantoja–Hidalgo, Alfred Yuson, and Gemino Abad. In her introduction, Brainard says her collection fills up the sore lack of youth-oriented books in the Philippines that reflect Filipinos’ own ethnicity. “I would have wanted books with Filipino protagonists who could have taught me how to negotiate life as a Filipina youth,” Brainard writes.
Divided into five sections, Growing Up Filipino tackles the struggles encountered by young Filipinos going through the stages of life.
The first section, “Family,” covers a young adult’s need for kinship. In “Lola Sim’s Handkerchief” by Filipino-American writer Paula Angeles, the story’s persona recalls the lasting influence of her deceased grandmother on her, despite their rather incongruent tastes and predispositions when she was still alive. Angeles writes, “She sparked my first curiosity about food, a curiosity that I still cultivate.”
In the section “Angst,” the stories highlight the world’s imperfections which however make the young stronger and wiser. “Voice in the Hills” by Yuson discusses a boy’s rite of passage as he undergoes circumcision and suffers peer pressure. “You have to become a man soon. Your barrio needs more men,” the character is constantly told.
“Friendship,” the book’s third section, emphasizes the importance of having someone to turn to, especially during difficult times. In “The Magic Glasses,” written by Thomasian Cristina Pantoja–Hidalgo, a girl struggles for social popularity and acceptance from her peers.
The writers of the section “Love” present the transition from childish games to rousing infatuations and the excitement of being in love for the first time. In Marily Orosa’s “The Curfew,” a mother recalls moments when she was observing her lovestruck daughter arrive home from her high school dance. “I spot a certain softness in her eyes that comes from having experienced the thrill of a first kiss.”
Finally, the section “Home” shows how being Filipino, regardless of location, separates our youth from the rest. “The Boundary,” by Connie Jan Maraan, presents a Filipino teenager’s attempts to pull away from the false Americanized images her pretentious folks have adopted. “Why do they refuse to use their own language? Why don’t they play more of the local stuff?” the character Lisa asks herself.
The book provides variety, with various writers flaunting their own styles and approaches to the theme. However, Edgar Poma’s “The Slumbering State” is uncomfortably long while Wanggo Gallaga’s “The Purpose of Malls” relies too much on dialogue and glosses over characterization and setting that may leave the reader confused.
Growing Up Filipino gives the reader stories where family ties are tested, where adolescents discover sexual awakening, and where young trials lead their partakers to dimensions of their selves, both as adults and as Filipinos.
In a country whose youth is allegedly becoming less patriotic, Growing Up Filipino conveys to young Filipinos an invitation to take a closer look at their own roots.
