Philippine hero Dr. José Rizal once said, “Ang hindi marunong magmahal sa sariling wika ay higit sa hayop at malansang isda.” (One who does not love one’s own language is worse than an animal and a rotten fish.) Speaking Tagalog has always been a great part of my Filipino-American identity. Although I was born in the United States, my parents made the conscious decision to raise me speaking in their native tongue. As a child, I remember them making a point of only speaking in Tagalog when at home; if I tried to speak English with them, they would pretend to not understand so that I would switch to Tagalog. They taught me how to sing “Lupang Hinirang,” how to sing children’s songs like “Bahay Kubo,” read books like “Juan Tamad,” and recite prayers in Tagalog like “Ama Namin.” I spoke in Tagalog to my titas and titos, my lolas and lolos, and other Filipinos in our church community. Tagalog became a source of warmth and comfort for me; speaking it felt like home. I was proud to speak it. However, one day, when I was seven years old, I went to a church meeting with my parents and was bewildered. I observed that despite every person in the room being Filipino, the meeting was conducted entirely in English, with everyone refusing to utter a single word in Tagalog. When they did use Tagalog, it was usually used to convey a joke or an afterthought. Confused, I whispered to my mom in Tagalog, “Why aren’t they speaking Tagalog? Everyone’s Filipino.” This realization was the first of many realizations from my childhood to my teenage years about the position of Tagalog, not just in my own life and identity, but in society as a whole. Whether it was in church, in weddings, in family gatherings, in Facebook posts, or in debuts, I kept asking myself, “why are they speaking English instead of Tagalog?” I understood that we were in America, but even in situations where everyone was Filipino and could understand Tagalog, people elected to speak English. When I visited the Philippines for the first time, the signs, museums, historical sites, and advertisements were in English. In the National Bookstore, I could not find a single novel in Tagalog; all were in English. Sooner or later, I began noticing a pattern. English was used when people wanted to sound ‘sophisticated.’ It was the language of the affluent, the popular, and the educated. It was the language of politics, academia, and commerce. English was the language that many Filipinos prided themselves in speaking, not Tagalog. What Tagalog meant to me—a language of beauty, comfort, national identity, and pride—was not what Tagalog meant to other Filipinos. But why? When I researched the history of the Philippines, I learned that the reason behind all this was American colonization and linguistic imperialism. English was imposed on Filipinos to ‘civilize,’ to ‘educate,’ and to subjugate them. As a result, the idea that English meant wealth and education was ingrained in Filipinos. If one spoke English, one would become rich, powerful, and revered. One could climb out of poverty and achieve success in life. These attitudes continue to pervade Philippine consciousness to this day, and if left unchecked, the complete Anglicization of the Philippines would not only marginalize Tagalog and other Philippine languages, but could cause them to become extinct. These languages whose traditions, literatures, and speakers once thrived could find themselves becoming languages that are forgotten, archaic, and obsolete. Learning this not only disheartened me, but made my blood boil. “Why can’t Filipinos love their own native language,” I desperately asked my parents in tears, “Why do we still worship the language of our colonizers?! Bakit, bakit, bakit?!” All my parents could muster was, “Wala tayong magagawa, anak. We can’t do anything about it.” I had never felt so alone, so betrayed, so lost, and so hopeless. However, I refused to give up without a fight. I knew that I could do something about it, even if it’s something small. In high school, I began translating popular English songs into singable versions in Tagalog, I began advocating in my church to read Scripture in Tagalog for masses that celebrated Filipino saints, I learned how to sing harana, kundiman, and other old Filipino songs, I wrote my own original songs and poems in Tagalog and posted them on social media, and I started learning and using ‘archaic’ Tagalog words. This passion to fight for Tagalog and Filipino identity continues on in my college years as well. As a freshman last year, I joined the Pilipino American Student Union and the Filipino cultural arts and dance group, Kayumanggi. I formed a new Filipino acapella group that sings both new and old Tagalog songs, and performed these songs at our Pilipino Culture Night event. My most proud accomplishment, however, was writing my own academic paper about linguistic imperialism in the Philippines entitled “Wikang Imperyalismo, Wikang Mapagsamantala: A Critique of English Linguistic Imperialism in the Philippines.” Now as a sophomore, I have decided to major in International Relations and minor in Linguistics so that through academic papers and research, I can continue to passionately fight against linguistic imperialism for not only Tagalog, but other Philippine languages as well. For me, my Filipino identity and Tagalog language are inseparable. I earnestly and sincerely believe that one of the reasons why I am here on this Earth is to fight for my cherished and beloved native language, no matter the cost. This passion is what keeps me going during times of hardship, pain, and suffering. It is what drives me to study well, to try my best at whatever I do, and to live to fight. Dahil kung hindi ako ang magmamahal sa sariling wika, sino? (Because if I don’t love my own language, who will?)

Today, because young Filipinos are abandoning their native tongues for English, I fear that one day Philippine languages will merely be a cultural symbol, rather than vibrant languages that define what it means to be Filipino. My goal in life is to help revitalize and preserve my native language, Tagalog, and other Philippine languages from the increasing negative influence of English linguistic imperialism. I plan on doing this through the Filipino music I create, my minor in linguistics, the papers I write about this issue, and my passion and love for my native tongue.