How Do We Raise the Next Filipino Generation in America?

When I was raising five children in America, I knew they would grow up in a culture different from the one that shaped me.

I wanted them to feel at home here. I wanted them to become confident, independent, and comfortable finding their own way.

But I also wanted them to know what it means to be Filipino.

Now I have three grandsons growing up in America, and the question feels even more important.

How do we help another generation hold on to a culture they may experience differently from us?

I do not think the answer is found only in the food we prepare, the holidays we celebrate, or the Filipino words we teach them. These things matter, but culture lives even more deeply in the values beneath them.

It lives in how we treat our elders.

It lives in how we care for our families.

It lives in our faith, our hospitality, and our instinct to make room for one more person.

These are the parts of being Filipino that I hope will continue long after me.

More Than Traditions

It is natural to think about culture through the traditions we can see.

We prepare familiar dishes. We gather for holidays. We tell stories about the Philippines and introduce our children to relatives whose lives may be very different from their own.

These traditions give our children a connection to where their family came from. But I also want them to understand why we do these things.

The meal matters because it brings people together.

The gathering matters because family should not be reserved only for special occasions.

The stories matter because our children need to know that their lives are part of something that began before them.

If we pass down traditions without their meaning, they may eventually become things our children remember but no longer understand.

To keep a culture alive, we have to live the values within it.

When Strangers Become Ate, Kuya, Tito, and Tita

There are a few Filipino words that reveal something important about who we are.

Ate. Kuya.

Tita. Tito.

Nanay. Tatay.

Lola. Lolo.

These are names for members of our family—older sister, older brother, aunt, uncle, mother, father, grandmother, and grandfather.

But Filipinos do not reserve them only for relatives.

We may call the woman helping us at a store Ate. An older man we have just met may become Kuya. Our parents’ friends become Tita and Tito. An elderly woman may be called Nanay or Lola, even when we do not know her name.

We may begin as strangers, but we do not always speak to one another as strangers.

We begin with respect. Somewhere within that respect is an invitation:

You are one of us.

One of the qualities that feels most distinctly Filipino to me is our ability to find family wherever we go.

Filipinos may come from different regions, speak different languages and dialects, or have very different lives. Still, when we meet—especially when we are far from home—there is often an immediate sense of recognition.

We ask where someone is from. Food is offered. Stories begin. Someone discovers a shared hometown, school, relative, or family friend.

Before we know it, another person has been welcomed into the circle.

Beneath these family names is something beautiful: the belief that our responsibility to care for one another can extend beyond blood.

Family is not always limited to the people who share our last name. Sometimes it is the person who welcomes us when we are far from home. It is the older woman who offers advice as though we were her own child. It is the family who adds another plate to the table without making us explain why we need a place there.

We can see that same sense of kinship in the excitement surrounding Alex Eala. Most Filipinos cheering for her have never met her, yet we speak of her as our Alex and celebrate her as though someone from our own family has stepped onto the world stage.

We find a small piece of home in one another.

Teaching Respect in a Different Culture

Respect for elders is one of the Filipino values I most want my children and grandchildren to preserve.

It is present in the titles we use, the way we greet someone older, and the small words po and opo that soften our speech and acknowledge respect.

We also express this respect through mano, or pagmamano. A younger person takes an elder’s hand and gently brings the back of it to their forehead, often saying, “Mano po.” It is more than a greeting. It is a way of asking for the elder’s blessing and showing humility, affection, and respect without needing many words.

These may seem like simple customs, but they teach something larger.

They remind us that how we speak to people matters. They ask us to recognize the years another person has lived and the experiences that person carries. They teach us to pause, listen, and show consideration.

American culture places great value on independence and speaking for oneself. Those are qualities I wanted my children to develop. But independence does not have to mean forgetting the people who came before us.

Respect also does not mean that elders are always right or that younger people should never have a voice.

At its best, respect means recognizing that we do not move through life alone. We are part of a family and a history that began before us.

We raise our children to stand on their own, but we also teach them when to reach back, when to help, and how to honor the hands that once carried them.

Faith Must Be Lived

My Catholic faith is also inseparable from the Filipino values I hope to pass on.

Faith taught me that love is not only something we feel. It is something we practice through patience, forgiveness, sacrifice, service, and the decision to keep showing up for one another.

It lives in prayer and in going to Mass, but it must also be present in how we treat people.

It is in caring for aging parents.

It is in preparing food for someone who is tired, ill, or grieving.

It is in making room at the table.

It is in helping without needing recognition and welcoming someone who might otherwise feel alone.

These acts may appear ordinary, but together they create the kind of family life I want my grandchildren to remember.

I want faith to be more than something they inherit in name. I want them to see it lived so consistently that care for others becomes part of who they are.

Culture Cannot Be Preserved by Standing Still

My grandchildren will experience being Filipino differently from the way I did.

They may not speak Tagalog fluently. They may know some traditions well and understand others only through the stories we tell them. Their lives will be shaped by America, their Filipino heritage, and the experiences they gather for themselves.

That does not make them less Filipino.

Culture cannot remain alive by being frozen in time. Each generation must receive it, understand it, and find a way to live it within the world they know.

My responsibility is not to make their lives look exactly like mine.

It is to help them understand what our values mean.

They will learn respect when they see us treating elders with patience and dignity.

They will learn hospitality when they watch us welcome people into our home.

They will learn the importance of family when we continue to show up for one another—not only for celebrations, but during ordinary days and difficult seasons.

They will understand faith when they see it expressed through love.

We pass on culture through what we repeat.

What I Hope the Next Generation Will Know

One day, my grandchildren will build lives and families of their own.

They may live far from us. They may enter places where very few people share their heritage. They may understand Filipino traditions differently from the generations before them.

But I hope they always recognize the values beneath those traditions.

I hope they greet their elders with respect.

I hope they listen before dismissing someone.

I hope they notice when another person needs care.

I hope they make room for people.

I hope they understand that strength and tenderness can exist together, and that becoming independent does not require becoming indifferent.

Most of all, I hope they understand why Filipinos can meet as strangers and leave calling one another Ate, Kuya, Tita, Tito, Nanay, Tatay, Lola, or Lolo.

These words are more than family titles.

They are how we shorten the distance between us.

They are how we tell someone, wherever in the world we may be:

You are not alone here.

You are among family.

— Levisa