Many people ask their children for the remote by simply asking or pointing, but Filipinos are different. My nanay asks me with no words at all. She asks by using her eyes and by pointing her lips. I'd ask a few times before I correctly identify what she's looking for; however, it is one of my core memories growing up. Aside from an aroma of pure Filipino culture, it was always the little things that brought Filipinos together. The things we didn't have to say, but simply knew and felt. As a mixed Filipino-Black woman, Filipino culture was the only side of me I knew. Not once was I ashamed of being Filipino, though. I embraced every droplet of the culture into my essence. From the scent of chicken adobo filling the kitchen to the power of our native tongue being spoken in my home, I breathed it, I lived it, and I loved every part of it. The thing is, being Filipino isn't simply about the food, festivals, or karaoke nights. It is about the undying love every Filipino possesses. An authentic, incomparable love for those dearest to them, for making sacrifices, and living a life dedicated to representing the sun on our flag. To represent the light in life. No artificial intelligence could embody the purity of a Filipino's love. Every person who has stepped into my home leaves not just a stranger or a friend, but family. Filipino's love hard and loud. Through food that will have you experiencing a food coma, or music that lifts your soul. You can't create Filipino culture, you can't duplicate it, because it's born within a person. It grows through the sacrifices of their immigrant parents. It intensifies by becoming a first-generation college student. Being Filipino isn't an algorithm; it's a part of the sun gifted to reside within you and to share with everyone you meet. I am a proud Filipino-American because of the Filipinos before me and the many to follow. We aren't just a culture, we are a light, we are the embodiment of life in its purest form. AI doesn't hold a candle to the light we shine, and never will.