The Legacy of Our Ancestors
By Wilfred Galila
After months of searching for a location for the farm labor scenes for the currently in production dance film version of Man@ng is Deity, we are thankful to Phillip Merlo, director of education and visitor services, for the opportunity to film at the San Joaquin County Historical Museum in Lodi last May 22 and 23. Not only was it evocative to film scenes at a place that is historically relevant and resonant to the project, it was also serendipitous to have the sons and grandsons of manongs who had worked the fields in the San Joaquin Valley and across California as part of the cast.
“It’s been super tough to find a place to shoot this particularly powerful scene and I’m super appreciative of all of you,” Director, Alleluia Panis, addressed the cast and crew after the last shot of the weekend was done. The sons of manongs who were part of the cast were then asked to share stories about their fathers and grandfathers.
When the Philippines became a colony of the United States in 1898, Filipinos became a resource for the building and expansion of the American empire. A predominant agricultural labor force, Filipino farm workers in California moved with the crops across the state, pulling carrots, picking strawberries, cutting celery, harvesting grapes, and cutting asparagus from the San Joaquin Valley, to the Salinas Valley, to the Imperial Valley. Favored by racist growers as ideal for “stoop labor,” Filipino farm workers were in high demand (10).
The conditions of farm labor were quite harsh, to say the least. It consisted of long hours of exhausting and backbreaking work under the oppressive heat of the sun and the seasonal cold, where one is enveloped with dust and often doused with dangerous pesticides.
Lorenzo Romano recalled his father’s experience as a farm worker, “It was tough working in the heat and in the cold, in the mud, sand, dirt. It was hard work for him.” He shared how sulfur was freely sprayed over the fields without consideration for the workers. “They had the airplanes just fly over the farm workers. The farm workers didn’t complain at all. They didn’t really have any rights or somebody to advocate for them. So they just continued to work.” Covered with white dust, Lorenzo’s father would wash away the sulfur from his body and, to prevent contamination, would separate his clothes from the family’s laundry.
Joel Juanitas’ father worked in the asparagus field. He recalled, “I remember when he took us down there in the bunkhouses when we were young. He’d start sun up to sun down. After he’d picked in the field, he’d go to the packing shed. It was an all day thing.”
The farm labor scenes for the film project consisted of farm workers in a grape field. Commenting on how similar playing the scene was to what his father and uncles did, Dexter Labonog shared, “They picked the grapes; they pruned the vines. My dad would always come home smelling like dirt. I still have a couple of the shears he used for pruning.”
Edward Talisayan added, “They had asparagus knives similar to what we used today. So it really touches me and brings me back to what they really went through.”
In spite of all the hardships that the manongs and their families faced, they cultivated a strong sense of community that kept their spirits alive. “During every season, we’d have what was in season at our house—asparagus, grapes, cherries. That’s how we hooked each other up. Families would bring boxes of whatever they’d brought home from the fields,” shared Edward Talisayan.
The greatest legacy of the manongs is carving a path that paved the way for future generations of Filipinos in America. It is something that we owe our current way of life to and honor with what we do. “I’m really happy that we’re able to do this and I’m deeply thankful that today, ancestral manongs have brought us together in this place. They worked and toiled so that we can be here today,” Alleluia said.
“This brings back a lot of memories. Everytime I see a grape field in Stockton, it’s like thinking about my uncles,” said Eugene Inis. “They paved the way. They’re not in the fields anymore. Our generations move up more and more and more.”
Terry Joven recalled, “Being born and raised in 1954, we were really second class citizens then. My grandparents didn’t want to teach me the language, they wanted us to speak English; they wanted us to assimilate.”
“We’re so fortunate that our generation doesn't have to do that. They pretty much paved the way for us so we can have a better life,” said Eward Talisayan. “That’ll always be with me. I try to move forward from there and make the best of what I could be because of what they gave me today. It was difficult for them to get what they got for us.”
It is in remembering those who came before us and keeping their memory alive that we honor their legacy as we continue paving the way for future generations. “I never met my grandfather, so I never had that experience and talked with him about what went through,” said Leo Juanitas, Joel’s son. “But it’s good that I’m here with you guys filming that and learning through that and helping other people learn as well. It’s a great opportunity.”
Reference:
Espiritu, Yen Le. Filipino American Lives. Temple University Press, Philadelphia, 1995.
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Wilfred Galila is a multimedia artist and writer who lives and runs trails in the San Francisco Bay Area.