So, if you know me, which is about anyone who's reading this, you know that everyone BUT me seems to have an identity crisis about me. Well, if you think this post is about another mistaken Hawaiian-identity stories... well, you are sadly correct.
I love old people... seniors are a hoot, which of course, naturally helps when you work in the hospice field. I was asked to attend a ceremony the other day that recognized veterans at one of our partner assisted living facilities. I arrived and was talking with one of our nurses who came and were laughing and joking. I really don't remember what I said, but by the time I finished cracking a line in the best sarcastic way I know how, one of the residents comes by and starts laughing. Then she says something about me being naughty... the exact words escape me now, but I do remember what she said next... "you better behave 'cause you don't want Grandma to spank you right now," she said laughingly.
Well, the nurse and I just looked at each other as the lady walked away... "did she just threaten to spank me?" I inquired.
"Yeah," the nurse laughed back.
Gee, tough crowd, I thought. So, I just cowered off to the side until it was my turn to do an oration of a poem recognizing the heroes. After my presentation, the ceremony was over and I made my rounds talking to residents and mingling, when of course I ran into "Grandma" again. We started talking and she turned out to be a nice lady who just loved to flirt with young men. (Don't even think it!)
After she talked to me about her late husband, the topic (as it somehow always does when I meet new people) turned to the "islands."
"Oh, I just loved Hawaii!"
"You know what's best about Hawaii-- the people! So friendly, they'd give the clothes right off their back!"
As she went on and on about Hawaii, my insides were boiling with laughter that I could control no longer and finally smiled and said in my sweet, compassionate voice, "so I bet you saw a lot of people that look like me!"
Well, this woman just looked like she just won the daily bingo jackpot... "are you... are you Hawaiian?"
"Oh, no ma'am," I replied politely. "My background is Filipino. My parents are from the Philippines."
"Oh, I've been there too... beautiful country! And nice people!"
I finally "broke free" and was ABOUT out the door when I saw a woman sitting by herself. Something-- my guardian angel perhaps-- told me to talk to her, even though I needed to get back to the office. So, I introduced myself and during our conversation I found out she was displaced by Hurricane Katrina, moved to Tallahassee by her sons because the facility she lived in was destroyed in Biloxi. As we talked, I realized why I was drawn to talk to her... she's alone in town. This facility was the closest her sons could find for her to live while her place in Biloxi was being fixed, and she doesn't know anyone here. She hopes to be back home by the first of the year.
And again, while I was talking to her the question of my "cultural identity" was brought up, but this time I'd drawn a small crowd who came over to talk to me (these places love to see young people and just come up and start talking). They all just wanted to know... "WHAT are you?!?"
Then there was someone else I stopped to talk... but again, the whole story repeats itself.
I think I'm cursed for the rest of my life of people asking me... "WHAT are you?"
