I’ve been a longtime fan of Rocky Rivera, SF-native, Oakland-based Filipina American rapper, activist, & mother. Her newest effort entitled “Rocky’s Revenge” came out last week while I was traveling with my family so I put off listening the the album until I was home in the Bay, perhaps taking a drive to the very SF streets that raised her. All symbolic-like. So I waited until I got back. Almost a week after people have been posting, sharing and copping the album. I feel behind.

But, I wanted to honor her work in that way so leave me alone in my symbolism and lateness.

Anyway, I dropped my kids off yesterday and drove my mom-car around the Excelsior and the Mission with it on full blast. And boy did she take me on a ride.

The work was beautiful. Honest and vulnerable. Painful and creative. The textures and tempo of the songs across the album was fascinating. Hooking you into the next track like a page turner. Her cadence and wordplay was on point and as always, the imagery in her concepts and stories were so sharp.

The first song titled after the album was a helluva introduction to Rocky’s newest musical effort. My favorite lines traced lineage of maternal and matriarchal magic connecting a mystical past through the violence of patriarchy and misogyny (past and present) all the way to the Pinay futurity where Rocky claims, “I’m Mother Nature so respect me/You all my sons.” I loved this track because it was infused with a militant maternalism that invoked images of womb, baby carrying, the mystic power of womanhood and motherhood. In this iteration of her artistry, I could hella relate to Rocky as a mother, realizing the universe existing in my many states and potentialities. She echoed what I’ve felt in my bones.

Across the album, Rocky gives me the right mix of gangsta, mama, militancy, Filipiniana and Bay. She sounds authentically Bay Area-bred with roots in the Philippines, music reflective of our Filipino American struggles. It’s a special and unique experience: being raised Filipino in the Bay Area. Wherever I’ve lived in the US, Bay Area Filipinos often find one another and stick together. Often because I think there’s something about it that only applies to us. Rocky sounds like that feeling. She sounds like how it feels to be home in the Bay, be with ya peoples.

It brings me to my favorite song: it has to be the penultimate track “Like You”, an emotional tribute to the late great Bay Area legend, The Jacka. When I first met Rocky, I remember connecting on the Bay Area rap tip. We were in college and because I was raised in the FAR East Bay, I felt a bit out of place in terms of music and FilAm culture in SF. We listened to the likes of RBL Posse, Andre Nickatina and The Jacka where I came from. And Rocky knew exactly who I was talkimbout. She not only listened to Jacka’s music but interviewed him for her journalistic endeavors and befriended him–no, be-familied him. When Jacka passed away from gun violence, I was heart broken so listening to this track, I really felt Rocky as she laid bare the shattered pieces of her heart. J.O.A.L. Or Mr. Vargas to his students, rapper and righteous Westmoor high teacher, noted that the opening line, “I’ll probably never feel the same about the Bay again,” was Rocky’s reflection about losing a beloved friend but it could also be about how the Bay has transformed with gentrification, racialized capitalism, and so much more. As someone who has experienced loss more recently, Rocky’s tribute to Jacka gave me the opportunity to stay in my pain and feel it shamelessly. In this way, her track transcended their relationship, inviting us listeners to take part in grief: hers and our own.

I’m no music journalist. Just a sociologist and a fan of Rocky’s. But if you’re out there reading this blog: do yourself a favor, buy Rocky Rivera’s album. Better yet go to her album release party on Thursday.

“Larry was Filipino like me, Mama?” asked Aya. “Yes he is, Aya,” I answered.

Today, I brought a little Filipino American history lesson in my backpack to teach preschoolers. I didn’t know if they’d get it. Or if they’d like the story. But, I tried. With the help of “Journey for Justice: The Life of Larry Itliong”, published out of the Stockton-based publishing house Bridge + Delta, the first nonfiction illustrated children’s book about Filipino American history and the first book ever written about Larry Itliong, I learned so much about the capacity of children (including my own daughter, Aya) to understand the plight of farmworkers, past and present.

Manong Larry, the oft forgotten United Farm Workers (UFW) cofounder, migrated to the United States, worked in the fields of the Central Valley of California and devoted his life to fight for a farmworkers union. In the above photos, I engaged in a project of watercolors and a coloring page of Larry Itliong’s portrait out of the book as a way to tell the story Manong Larry. What were the conditions under which he led the Delano Grape Strike, united across racial divides in the fields and created national attention to the plight of farmers in the Central Valley? I asked the 3-4 year olds who were painting Manong Larry’s portrait, what they thought farmworkers would need to be healthy and strong. They replied with: “rest”, “food for energy”, “sleep”, and “snacks”. Although, the demands of the Delano Grape Strike was much more complex, much of what the strike was about was the issues of lack of rest and poor working conditions, low wages or the inability of farmworkers to support themselves.

Penned by late San Francisco State University professor and historian, Dr. Dawn Bohulano Mabalon, with Gayle Romasanta and illustrated by Andre Sibayan, this book is a exemplary case of FAHM as it is about, authored and illustrated by Filipino Americans. And as I’ve written in a past post, an exciting opportunity to reveal to younger generations of Filipino Americans that they belong to a proud lineage of trailblazers, risk-takers and rabble rousers.

Through this book, and simple coloring pages like these, families could possibly talk about Larry’s leadership in his community and his courageous cross-cultural partnership with Mexican farmworkers to achieve equity. (Here’s a quick video about Manong Larry and why his story is a part of the American story.) During this Filipino American History Month, with this exciting book soon to be released, we all have another tool in our shelves to ensure that young people, of all backgrounds, can be part of the positive change that Manong Larry was a part of building.

An awesome bonus of this FAHM lesson was the conversations I had with other Filipino American parents and grandparents about who Larry Itliong was and why they never heard of him. It was great to hear that we were all learning together with our kids.

I never thought I’d be able to visit Singapore, much less have my work featured in a workshop at the Multinational Migrations: Onward Migration Patterns and … – (ARI) at the National University of Singapore! In these first few days in SG, I’ve done a great deal of exploring–thanks to my cousin, Jamie and her husband, Jeric, Filipino migrants who have been living in Singapore for 8 years.

I’ve been to the local spots in neighborhoods like Little India, Arab Street, Geylang Serai. It’s been an eye-opening experience because of the diversity of Singapore and at the same time the efficiency of public infrastructure here: the public transportation system, car traffic, urban planning, greening of urban spaces. And although, I’m sure there are ways that the capital here in Singapore has displaced different communities (I mean, what global city hasn’t?), its quite a different experience of Asia.

In the next few days, I’ll be presenting my work on Filipino transnational families and care work to the top experts and scholars of migration and transnational worldwide. I’m deeply humbled to participate in this workshop but also a little nervous.

Luckily, I have grounding reminders of why I did and do this work. Above is a picture of Megs, a friend for almost a decade, we were introduced by her mother, who I lovingly call Nanay Emy. Both women have been instrumental in my personal growth but also at the center of my book. Last night we ate together at a hawker center over looking the Bay, Merlion and the Gardens by the Bay. We laughed, called each other sister and i instantly remembered the many families that people my book, my research, my wish to change the very systems that drive them apart.

So, here’s to Singapore, all that I’ve learned so far and all that I will learn before I leave!

I’m on sabbatical this Fall! Almost 2 weeks after the Fall semester started for my university, I’m only realizing what a gift this time is. I’m slowing it down: reading a YA novel, writing new ideas, running, going to the tot gym with 1-year old Cy, working shifts at Aya’s co-op preschool, me and Raul even went on a double date yesterday to see Sam Smith in concert!

I’m already feeling the forward momentum.

A part of my sabbatical is a continuation of the (world) book tour for The Labor of Care. So, friends and comrades, come to see me if I’m in your neighborhood this Fall. (Not to worry, I’ve got some good (international) stops in the Spring too, so I’ll see you soon!)

I’ve been on a podcast tip on car rides home with my partner, Raul, and when there’s a lgood point to be made, I’m always like, “PAUSE THAT. Because if that was me…” So, finally, here I am on a podcast talking about all things #LaborofCare. Its origins story, more extra cuts and stories that I didn’t fold into the book, and some ideas around decolonizing methodology when working with migrant communities.

Christopher Patterson, author of two newly released books, Transitive Cultures published by Rutgers University Press and Stamped: An Anti-Travel Novel under his pen name Kawika Guillermo. I’ve known Chris for a long time as we were coming up through grad school and as junior faculty. I was so excited to hear that he might want to feature my book on his series “New Books in Asian American Studies”. I was a little nervous but he was a generous interviewer giving me a lot of room to digress and talk anecdotally about my research and findings. It was so much fun!

But of course, I didn’t get to say it all. If I were listening to my own podcast (but ew i don’t like the sound of my own recorded voice) I’d probably have some moments where I’d be like, “PAUSE THAT.” So if you have any questions for me about the podcast and interview, please leave it in the comments below.

Lastly, a giant in the field of Asian American Studies, Filipino American Studies specifically, Dawn Bohulano Mabalon has transitioned to be one of our ancestors. I was lucky enough to have Dawn in my life since I was a 16-year old Pinay just trying to find her way. More formally through the years, she became my professor, mentor, and most importantly, my friend. I read her book Little Manila is in the Heart when I got into a rut in my own book writing. She was the one that told me, “Val, I wrote that book 5 times over. You gon’ do the same.” My book wouldn’t have been written if it wasn’t for her sage advice. This one’s for you, Dawn.