Why do Filipino-Americans like Hip-Hop?

This is a generalization that probably isn’t important (anymore), but it was a question that was brought up to me last month by two people who weren’t Filipino-American. I had a tough time answering them, but I tried to anyway.

One of them is a very close friend of mine who is Chinese-American. We started talking about Asians in America and how we as a minority group in America are struggling with the negative stereotypes that confront us. And then we started to talk about our differences under the umbrella of “Asian-Americans.” Which is when she asked me about her observation that Filipinos dress predominantly more “urban” or “hip-hop” than other Asian-Americans, which I also believed to be true.

Ironically, at that time I had started reading a book called “Filipino-American Psychology” so I merely regurgitated what I learned from the book.

In it, the author gives statistics on Filipino-Americans in comparison to our fellow Asian-American counterparts. Among the many, i’d like to point out a few that resonated with me:

1. Filipino-American households on average have lower incomes than other Asian-American households.
2. Filipino-American youth have higher high school drop-out rates than other Asian-American households.
3. Filipino-Americans are more susceptible to stroke, diabetes, and heart disease than other Asian-Americans.

So I told her that, given this data, I can only assume that because hip-hop at the time of my generation’s upbringing was sending messages of poor neighborhoods, teen pregnancies, drugs, and gangs, Filipino-Americans who were going through these same situations felt welcomed by the art. I also told her that I didn’t have many Chinese/Japanese/Korean/Indian friends at that time, and that although society was telling me I was “Asian,” I didn’t feel like it because I felt I had more in common with Mexican and African American youth. I know there is more to it than that, but it is a domino effect that is probably more complicated than I’d like to dig in to. I should though, I know.

The second and final person who posed this question to me was an African-American studying “Filipinos and hip-hop” for a school project. She made the observation that Filipinos in particular have become integral parts of hip-hop today. From the Black Eyed Peas, America’s Best Dance Crew, and DJ Qbert probably being the most iconic of Filipino Hip-Hop in American society.

I believe this stems from that crucial era of hip-hop in the 90’s when “gangster rap” had emerged from both coasts of the United States, coasts where most Filipino-American youth resided in, even to this very day. And then piggy backing on what I noted earlier, the statistics that bring Filipino-Americans closer to their Latino and African American counterparts than our Asian-American ones.

Looking back at my life, all the rap music I appreciated, and all the clothes I wore that depicted my love for rap, I realized 2 things:

1. That like most people, in the midst of trying to “fit in”, I also felt welcomed by hip-hop.
2. Who you are and what you believe defines you at any given moment in your life is dependent on what people see when they look at you, what you see in yourself, and lastly, how deep you want to dig in order to find out who you really are.

So who am I today? Im a Filipino-American blogger whose style is rooted in hip-hop. But tonight, i’ll be rockin it out watching Parokya ni Edgar, Kamikaze, and Gloc-9 blast their music in Tagalog.

So who will I be tomorrow?

The answer to that question is and always will be, up to me.