Having to face the problem of racism while their parents had to juggle their time to more than one job to earn a living, Albert Lopez, like other Filipino youth living in Canada, turned to his gang and to drugs for comfort and a sense of belonging. That was until he was approached by an organization of Filipino-Canadian youth tackling the problem of racism as well as problems of their compatriots in the Philippines. He is now a youth organizer for the said organization.

BY AUBREY SC MAKILAN
Bulatlat

A trouble-maker, drop out, gangster and a drug dealer. This was how Albert Lopez, now 22, described himself when he was still a teenager living in Canada.

Migration

Their life in Dagupan, Pangasinan, before they migrated to Canada, was very difficult. His mother, Celia, is an engineering graduate but had no work. His father, Fernando, used to work as a janitor in a provincial court.

Albert and his three other siblings were enrolled in a public elementary school in the province. He laughed reminiscing that they only had a pair of school uniform each. “Butas pa,”(It even had holes.) he said smiling.

It was her aunt who first worked in Canada during the late 80s under the Live-in Caregiver Program (LCP). Her mother followed suit in the early 90s after working as a domestic helper in Bahrain. Albert was seven years old then while their youngest, Sherry Ann, was just three.

After five years, Celia facilitated the migration of the whole family in 1996 under Canada’s reunification program.

It was winter when they arrived in Vancouver, the third largest city in Canada. So the first thing he bought was a jacket, Albert said.

All of the children continued their studies in Canada the next school year. But they failed the English proficiency exam so they had to complete a year of English as Second Language (ESL) course before they were able to enroll at the Dr. AR Lord School to finish their primary school.

“Yes at no lang ang alam ko nu’n eh,”(The only English words I knew then were yes and no.) he joked.

For five years, the Lopez family had to bear living in a one-bedroom flat they rented for 600 Canadian dollars (CAD) a month. The children occupied the bedroom while their parents slept in the living room.

But its not the cramped space they were living in that affected him most. Albert recalled that his mother and father would always come home late. His mother shuttled between two jobs, as housekeeper and factory worker. At weekends, she had a part time job at a supermarket. His father, on the other hand, worked as a welder.

During day time, they were left with no food. Because neither of their parents was around for them, Albert got involved in a youth gang and drug tailing.

Systemic racism

In high school, Albert enrolled at the Vancouver Technical Secondary School. But he had no idea how hard it would be for immigrants like him.

In 1999 when he was in grade nine (equivalent to second year high school in the Philippines), a conflict between Caucasians and Filipinos arose. Caucasian students made racist comments against Filipinos such as calling them “FLIP” or fucking little island people. Written on the walls of comfort rooms were “Go back to your country!” and “All Filipinos must die!”

Caucasian males would also imitate teachers who told Filipinos, “Speak English!”

The conflict intensified breaking into violent riots every break time and after classes. Students used baseball bats, padlocks tied to handkerchiefs and ice picks during these rumbles. Albert’s eldest brother, William, was hit with a bat on his left arm when he tried to defend himself from blows. Some were brought to the hospital because of gunshot and stab wounds, he continued.

But the school administration did not address their issues, Albert said, and would only call the police who would, in turn, just ask questions. He also lamented that even the media does not acknowledge the issue of systemic racism. Their conflicts were dismissed as a result of their being boys. “Boys will be boys,” the media would reason out.

But he said that even girls have also been involved in these conflicts. White girls would throw stones at dark-skinned girls.

Because of the riots, 25 Filipinos were kicked out from school in 2000, including him. Filipino students who were not immediately kicked out skipped classes until they were kicked out too.

Studies conducted by the Ugnayan ng Kabataang Pilipino sa Canada/Filipino-Canadian Youth Alliance (UKPC/FCYA) revealed that drop out rates of Filipino-Canadian children are high in Vancouver, Quebec and Montreal.

Being young and inexperienced, Filipino-Canadians who kicked-out from school could hardly find a job other than being crew members of fast food chains. Many drop outs were lured into drug tailing or dealing and gangster activities in Vancouver.

Gangs and drugs

To feel a sense of belongingness, Filipino teenagers formed their own gangs like Bahala na Gang, Kahit Bastos Cute (KBC), Samahang Pilipino (SP), Made in the Philippines (MP) and Samahang Ilokano (SI).

Albert belonged to the Trese ni Hudas and he eventually became the leader. As trademark, all their members had three cigarette burns at the back.

Gang members also engaged in prohibited drug tailings. “Parang yosi lang ‘yun dun,” (There, it’s just like smoking a cigarette.) Albert said of using cocaine.

He admitted that he was using marijuana then. Because it is much cheaper than cocaine, he used to trade a small amount of recooked cocaine for marijuana sticks.

They did the the recooking in their “crack house,” a basement they rented for less than 500 CAD monthly. The crack house would serve as their second home. They would go home to their parents before dawn but most of the time they spent consecutive days in the crack house.

“Crack houses” are located mostly in the east side of Vancouver. He compared that area to squatters’ communities in the Philippines. He said “real” citizens lived on the west side.

Because of the discrimination, he said, “colored” people are the usual suspects of the police whenever there are troubles in the area. “Kinakapkapan kami, saka binabalibag,”(They frisked and manhandled us.) he said.

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