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a letter to my future daughter
to my future daughter:
i hope to build a life for you that you love.
buhay na buong buo. (a life more whole than whole.)
but more than that,
i want you to know the value of success and hard work,
without holding the belief that any of that creates your own value.
i wish my parents had told me sooner:
accomplishments do not equate worth!
i want you to believe that there was a purpose
for you being placed on this earth;
that in some way, shape or form you will have impact;
that you will never doubt a breath you take as a filipina woman;
that you say what you mean and never take it back.
i hope you never feel responsible to repay me;
i hope you succeed for yourself.
punuin mo ang buhay mo ng pagmamahal, (fill your life with love,)
okay lang kung nagkamali ka, (it’s okay to mess up,)
subukan mong lumaban ulit! (try to fight again)
and if your mind does not agree with you,
know that i will stand by you until it does.
wherever the wind blows,
know i’m watching over you
nandito lang ako. (i’m right here, okay)
lilipas din ito. (this too shall pass.)
Elizabeth Nacion is an eighteen year old aspiring Filipina writer and journalist. Writing has always been an escape for her; the one place she could be herself. From the example of other Asian-American women, she has learned that her voice should never be silenced, filtered or watered down, particularly by her own doubt. So she writes this letter to my future daughter, to tell her what she wish she had heard at a younger age. She hopes to break the barrier of conversation between immigrants and their children through art.
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