Prologue

I was raised on the windy shores of the San Francisco Bay Area. The area in particular that I called home was located across the bay from the titular city itself, and played host to a rainbow of Asian-American families, mine included. This particular brand of diversity made the Bay a unique place to grow up, and with its own sense of mixed heritage I fit right in. Being of an uncommon mix tends to confuse people sometimes, leading to awkward questions at parties or even by strange men in the grocery store. Filipino and Puerto Rican isn’t a mix that people are particularly aware of, as the American narrative of mixed race usually revolves around being half one race and half white, or two very similar races mixed together. Despite the obscurity of my particular heritage (so far only known to be shared by singer Bruno Mars and a strangely prolific drug blogger on the internet) I never faced any real harassment, only confusion and surprise. I was lucky to grow up where I did, where having a blend of cultures a world apart only showed off how similar they really were. Although I consider myself as American as it gets, I still make a point to hold on to these cultures as hard as I can, I’ll never know them the way my parents did, but they have a unique meaning to me.