The forgotten ‘Fil-Ams’

There are many times when the smallest acts of kindest, like a pebble hurled into a pond, can send out the biggest ripples. Often, things we do impulsively, without thinking, can actually change the course of other peoples’ lives without our knowing it.

Our image of Fil-Ams has been skewed by years of reading about how much better than "ordinary" Filipinos they are. Particularly in sports, and more specifically in the PBA, we’ve read about controversies in the rush to recruit the biggest, strongest, fastest hybrid athletes. It’s been all the more disturbing because of how they’ve flooded basketball in particular, our favorite sport. All of a sudden, they have the money, success and fame that Juan de la Cruz has been dreaming of for so long.

But there is another side, a side not often seen by the public. In our midst, there are "Fil-Ams" who do not even eat three meals a day, who are on the receiving end of inhuman treatment, and who suffer from uncommon abuse that we don’t even want to hear about.

Writer Pearl S. Buck felt a very special concern for Amerasian children, the by-products of lusty American servicemen on the lookout for a taste of the local "scenery" on their furloughs. Often, they would relieve these urges with local prostitutes, or even simple-minded women who believed their hurried, desperate promises of marriage and a better future in the United States - the American, or is it Filipino dream? - in exchange for venting their base passions. The result would be an unwanted pregnancy, and a lifetime search for a father who only wanted a night of pleasure.

Locally, the Pearl S. Buck Foundation has been devolved from its mother office in the East Coast. In short, the Philippine office receives no more support from overseas, and is entirely on its own in tracking, saving and supporting Amerasian children concentrated in Manila, Pampanga and Olongapo. They estimate over 100,000 abandoned children, but the number is probably closer to double that. Ironically, these half-breed children are incredibly talented, particularly in the sports and in the arts. Some of the more fortunate ones (a very small number) are able to trace their fathers in the US, and are given recognition, American citizenship, and flown to the States.

But the bulk have to suffer in poverty, or worse. The daughters of Caucasian soldiers and Filipinas are strikingly beautiful, but are sexually abused or turned to prostitution even as early as their mid-teens. The daughters of African-American servicemen, meanwhile, are subjected to verbal and physical abuse, called horrible names, and grow up with psychological trauma. Ironically, it takes so little to help them. A mere P 6,600 is enough to provide for the education of one child for one year.

Yesterday, thanks to Robinson’s Place Novaliches, a handful of PBA players joined The Basketball Show in reaching out to these children. Though many were out of the country or on vacation, those who were in town readily made themselves available when they heard that it was for PSBF. The mall wanted an event to pull in people, and the players wanted to help. A few phone calls were exchanged, and a simple autograph-signing and photo-op was arranged.

The first to respond was San Miguel Beer’s Olsen Racela, who gladly attended even though it was his daughter’s first birthday. Next came the Purefoods tandem of Noy Castillo and Rob Johnson. Coca-Cola’s Leo Avenido lived nearby, and readily said yes. Sta. Lucia’s Kiko Adriano and Nelbert Omolon even showed up early, as did Shell’s flamboyant Ronald Tubid.

At first, the crowd didn’t know what to make of the event. But when we asked them to approach the players, they formed such a long line that other mall-goers couldn’t even see who was signing autographs. All in all, the signing took little over an hour. And it was all for a good cause. A cash donation will be made to the foundation in the name of each player present, and will go a long way to help the children in need. It was also a rare opportunity for basketball fans to see their favorite players in person, even though they’re on vacation.

Though many basketball players are naturally shy and find their self-expression through their sport, this was a great way for them to connect with their fans. Many even brought cameras. One young lady had Rob Johnson sign on her arm. Another brought her child, who was spun around as each player looked for space to sign on his shirt. Still another couldn’t resist stealing a kiss, and planted one on Nelbert Omolon’s cheek. The players also had a good laugh, shaking hands, posing for pictures, and talking with the fans.

Most heart-warming of all was their promise that, next time they’d do it again, since it was a most worthy cause. Now, the faceless, forgotten "Fil-Ams" have heroes they can really look up to, in gratitude. * * * You may reach me through [email protected], or the Pearl S. Buck foundation through 925-5960.