10/6 Post-Class blog

For immigrants, tradition is sometimes the only thing keeping them tied to their history. First-generation immigrants often have never been to the country their parents are from, and their parents try to keep cultural traditions alive in them despite the large disconnect the children may feel. While I hardly know the language my parents speak, my connection to my cultural identity largely comes from the traditions they have shared with me. It helps that a large portion of my family moved to a part of America with a strong Filipino community, and, growing up, I was often submerged in Filipino culture despite hardly remembering what it was like in the Philippines. Still, I am missing my parent's language, and that is already a large part of their culture that was never passed down to me.

As immigrant children start having families of their own, and their children have their own families, and their children have their own families, and so on, the ties to the homeland quickly fade. I’ve spoken to other Filipinos who are third or fourth generation immigrants, who’s families came to America much earlier than mine, and their attachment to Filipino-ness is tenuous at best. Their parents don’t know Filipino and have never been to the Philippines, and the fact that they are Filipino is more of a fun piece of trivia than an important part of their identity.

On a micro-level, this is demonstrative of how quickly history can fade as time continues, which emphasizes the importance of having people who will keep that memory alive. This holds especially true for indigenous cultures who have very few people left to keep propagating their way of life. Indigenous cultures have so much to teach us about how to live sustainable lifestyles, yet they are not valued in our so-called “modern” society. When we let these cultures die, we are also letting an important part of human history die with them.