Quick update on all things real estate. I have been giggling that Dean is now a part-time stager. The guy has single-handedly staged my condo. I don’t even provide feedback anymore because he completely disregards my suggestions. When you see the pictures, it’s all his work. Pictures of the unit were taken this morning so hopefully it will be up on MLS soon. I will share when they’re ready.
I went to my parents’ place this past weekend and while I was chatting with my mom, she said a phrase in Ilokano (which is our Filipino dialect). Although I understood exactly what she said, she didn’t think I did, so she repeated it in English.
This made me sad. I suddenly felt a pang of anguish, realizing my kid will never be able to understand our language—such an important element of anyone’s heritage.
My sister and I were partially robbed of the language because my parents communicated with us in English, not knowing that we would pickup English perfectly fine in school and in our environment. They only spoke Ilokano to each other or when they were mad at us and started mumbling Filipino obscenities which we completely understood! We picked the language up by association so we can understand, but we cannot speak. Because I cannot speak it, my kid will never know it. It’ll just be this kid with an Italian last name with no ties to my ancestral land with the exception of having some Asian features.
A lot of my readers are raising mixed race children. What are you doing or what plans do you have to teach your kids about their full heritage? I keep a journal of parenting advice and would love to add your thoughts.
Please comment and share here on my blog.