A Mudblood's Life

I just watched a feature presentation about the black movement in the United States, dating back from Rosa Parks in Montgomery to Martin Luther King, and finally to Obama’s victory in the recently concluded US Presidential Election. This conjured a tumbling kaleidoscope of memories for me.

Change is inevitable. It’s the only thing that is constant in this world, they say. Throughout the years, the world has changed which in turn brought several changes in the lives of the people as well as in the culture and social norms that govern them. Change can go either way; it can be positive or negative. However, it’s positive change that we work for and celebrate most.

In the society where I belong, inter-marriages with people outside the ethnic group were highly discouraged. A “royal-blooded” Maranao man should marry a “royal-blooded” Maranao woman. No ifs, ands or buts about it. The Maranao people consider themselves to be royal-blooded and prohibiting inter-marriages was their way of preserving their cultural heritage, wealth and values. It was in early 1980s when my father and mother decided to live together, and deviated from the social norm. They weren’t married that time though. They couldn’t since such a social norm prohibited them. My mother was a Bisaya working as a waitress in my father’s family business (a restaurant somewhere in Amai-Pakpak, Marawi City). There was no way they could be together in a community that discriminated against her and all the people of her kind. Four years after they lived together, they finally had the courage to take their vows and bind themselves in the sanctity of marriage. That was the year I was born. Since then, I have been a part of what seemed to be an uphill battle for me, my family and all the other “half-breeds” like me.

However, my society has started to change its tune regarding the issue of inter-marriages as time goes by. There are several reasons attributed to this. Personally, I believe that more and more Maranao men are getting practical. For them to marry a Maranao woman, they have to present a huge dowry to the woman’s family. This tradition alienates Maranao men. Since marrying a Maranao woman costs a lot of money, they prefer marrying non-Maranao women instead, and use the money supposedly for dowry to run a small business in some other place. After few years, these men come back and bring their wives and children with them, most of whom have obtained better education in the country’s most reputable academic institutions. As a result, more and more “half-breeds” dwelled in the society, and their increasing number overwhelmed the majority of “pure-bloods”, and sparked a silent and peaceful revolution. Moreover, the correlation between education and power became a driving force too. Most of the “half-breeds” hold important positions in the government and in academe, and this gradually earned them the respect and recognition of the society. The media catalyzed the change and brought the issue in a whole new light as well. Through the media, the Maranaos were able to see things outside their society. Before, they hardly see the forest for the trees. In the status quo, they are exposed to new concepts and ideas which make them more open-minded. Lastly, the gradual integration of the “half-breeds” to the “pure-blooded” ones became an avenue to bridge the gap and debunk stereotypes. As these people work with each other everyday, they tend to understand and appreciate each other’s similarities and differences more.

I am one of the “half-breeds”—a mudblood like Harry Potter. There are many Lord Voldemort’s in my society—those people who aren’t that receptive and who cannot recognize our existence. We were against all odds. A flock of black sheep as we were, we experienced all forms of discrimination, even from our immediate family members. We were (and still are) considered "low class" or less of a person. We're not pure. We're tainted. Looking back at those days still pricks my heart painfully. The pictures are still very vivid and clear in my mind. I can’t believe that we once lived in a very small house we rented while my grandparents enjoy the luxury of their huge torogan (or mansion). However, this did not make me feel less of a person. In fact, it has become my rallying point. I took my studies seriously and participated in several community activities. I became the class valedictorian among the 700 graduating students of my high school class, 99% of whom are "pure-blooded" Maranaos. That was a form of sweet revenge for a “half-breed” like me. I also represent my society in several competitions. I channel their sentiments and grievances in mediums I can handle--debate, public speaking and writing. I wanted the society to appreciate me, to realize my worth and to recognize my existence. I may have sounded so desperate, but that’s how I wanted the river to flow. It has never been an easy battle. Nevertheless, I am not alone in this endeavor. In fact, I am only a microcosm of a massive and united vanguard of “half-breeds” clamoring for the same recognition. Our determination did not upset us for at the end of the day, the prize we sought was won. We wanted to belong and we did, gradually at least.

Now, I live in a society that accepts and respects me for what I am and where my roots come from. It’s not a total make-over though. Some people may still not be as receptive as others. However, what’s important is that I now have a cultural heritage I can be most proud of. I am proud to be a mixture of two different ethnic groups. I was born not to taint the rich and beautiful culture of the Maranaos, as what the others may think. I am proud of it. I celebrate it and I would die to preserve it.

Our Lord gave me a loving family that embraces me with arms wide open. I salute my parents for overcoming the adversities they’ve been through—the rejection and condemnation. Life is a constant struggle between being one’s self and being a member of a community. I believe that my parents were able to handle this dilemma excellently. After all those years of fighting, I think I deserve the degree of recognition I have. We deserve it. In my own little ways, I will continue to paint a picture of my society admired as a paragon for the continuing pursuit of positive social change amidst diversity. Martin Luther King once said, “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” I share this dream; I want to see it borne out in my society. I hope that the growing trend of receptiveness towards the “half-breed” Maranaos will continue to move forward.

After all, my blood is red. Is theirs yellow?