By Sr. Romina Sapinoso, SC Federation Apostolic Novice
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Shortly after the opening ceremonies, I was at a rehab facility and the therapist engaged me in small talk. He expressed his disapproval of athletes who were raised and trained in one country and later go on to the Olympics to represent another. He said, “I guess they have dual citizenship or something. I don’t think that should be allowed.” I very casually mentioned to him that I was about to reclaim my Filipino citizenship after losing it last December when I became a naturalized U.S. citizen. He seemed a bit surprised by this unexpected revelation though we went on with our conversation about the games without any tension or trouble. This moved me
|Filipino. American. Human!|
A few days before my naturalization ceremony which officially switched over my citizenship, I remember thinking how weird it was that from one day to the next, I turned from Filipino to American. What does that mean? Does that fundamentally change who I am? The rest of my family, relatives and so many friends are Filipino. I’m the same person they know, born and raised in the Philippines. I will always speak Tagalog and Capampangan. Yet, America has also been my home for the last fifteen years. The friends I’ve met here, the work, school, church and congregational community members whom I’ve lived and ministered with also shaped who I am today. I use English more adeptly and I’ve added Spanish to my list of languages. What does it mean to be Filipino? Or American? Or does it matter in this case?
I carried this pondering with me to ministry where I spend two hours twice a week with the most
|Food shared with me |
by my Nepali students
Without question, there has been much polarization not just within people in the U.S. but everywhere around the world. In Europe, there is growing weariness and even hostility towards immigrants and refugees on top of tense attitudes towards minority groups already settled there. Among my own family members and friends in the Philippines, political divisions have ensued and “fake news” accusations fly around as freely as they do here in the States. It gives one a heavy heart to read opposing Facebook comments about gun control, the refugee crisis, immigration, taxes and government budgets. I cannot say how many times, I’ve seen a meme or have read a phrase to the effect of, “needing to help our own first or look after Americans before outsiders.” I have to ask, “Who is our own?” Holding my recent reflections and questions in my heart, I go back to Mother Teresa’s words, “If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.”
Going back to the recent Olympics, my most favorite story was the end of the men’s freestyle cross-
|The Olympic cauldron|
Pardon the wild thoughts on this blog post that went all over the place. I will close with a couple of quotes that hopefully tie them all together. From the movie Black Panther, I quote the words spoken by T’Challa, the king of Wakanda to the assembly at the United Nations. “There is more that unites us than separates us. In a time of crisis, the wise build bridges and the foolish build barricades.” I also quote St. Paul from Galatians 3:28-29. “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free person, there is not male and female for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”
May we always remember to whom we belong!