Realization of an American

I knew I was an American when I couldn’t speak Tagalog. That is the language my family speaks besides English because we are Filipino. When I was younger, my parents tried speaking to me in Tagalog but I just didn’t want to learn. My maternal grandmother rarely spoke to me in Tagalog because she wanted to learn English. She would only teach me simple words and games. It is always easier to learn other languages when you’re younger. That is one enormous mistake I have made. I regret it, a lot.

Another obvious reason is I am an American citizen. I was born in Chicago, Illinois. And I have lived here all my life. I have never been to the Philippines. Kind of sad, isn’t it? Oh well, I’ll go someday. Anyways, back to the point. My mother told me that I’m lucky to be born as an American. Unlike her, I am automatically a citizen of the United States. It took my parents and elder brother five years to get their citizenship.

It sucks not being able to understand my family’s conversations. I’m jealous that my cousins can eavesdrop on the adults to get some family gossip or drama. So I always have to ask them for some juicy news. But I can understand simple Tagalog. My brother only taught me the bad words when I was little. No swear words though. If only I can pick up a language quickly. That’s all up to me. I am Filipino-American.