Family Guy

I find the term "family values," as appropriated by Republicans, to be highly, highly offensive. Because what it is really saying is if you are not with the Republican program 100% of the time then what could you possibly know about family values? I highly, highly disagree with this statement.

Let's talk about social issues for a moment. In my own family, in many instances, people are on different sides of the same issues. Does that mean that some of us have family values and some of us don't? Does that mean that I am better than my sister because I hold the correct opinion on an issue? Does that mean I should stop talking to my sister because, obviously, she has no family values? Does that mean that my niece and my nephew are fated to have a sucky life because my sister might have a wrong opinion here and there?

The answers to all of the above questions are no, no, no and no. Families can be beautiful and heartwarming but also complex and complicated. Families fight and make up and then fight again. We disagree about stuff but, you know what, that is okay with me. I love talking to my relatives who I don't agree with. In a way, I like talking to them more because I already know how I think and I might not necessarily know how they think.

I have relatives who love Rush Limbaugh and I have relatives who worship Hillary Clinton. What I do know is that all my relatives are good family people. I have seen my conservative relatives go out of their way to help me out personally. But my liberal relatives have done the same too. I love my family and I wouldn't change a thing about them.

When Mitt Romney comes out and talks about his "family values," I do not recognize any of my family in what he is saying. He is talking about drawing a line in the sand with acceptable people on one side and the unacceptable on the other. White people, okay. Brown people, not so much. Rich people, we like you. Poor people, don't even notice you.

I consider myself half-immigrant. My mom came to the United States for the first time when she was 30 years old. She did not know a single person here other than my dad. The year was 1970. As I was growing up, I was ambivalent about where I lived. It was just a place I was born. But my mom would have none of that. She loved the United States. She was a patriot. And I think she was happy with the life she made here.

My mom was from the Philippines. You know what? Them Filipinos have some good values and I should know because I would hear about them when I strayed a little. (I got a C in science once.) I know the United States was just a bit better for having had my mom live here from 1970 to 1993, the year she died. Her legacy is three pretty good kids, two really cool grandkids, and the countless time she spent helping new immigrants from the Philippines get used to their new country.

My mom loved to help people immigrating to the United States. She would help them find places to live. She would tell them where the Catholic churches were. (Most Filipinos are Catholics.) She would have parties to introduce new immigrants to the ever-growing Filipino community in Houston. A big part of the reason I became a teacher in an inner-city school in a poor Hispanic neighborhood in Houston was to model myself after my mom a bit. (My mom was also a teacher back in the Philippines.) She was a welcoming face for many people moving to the United States for the first time from the Philippines. I was the same face for many people moving to the United States for the first time from places like Mexico and Guatemala and Costa Rica.

The arrival of my mom to her new family probably shook things up a bit back in 1970. But the family was the better for it. In fact, America is a better place for having had my mom live here for a short time as well. My family really is a diverse lot. We bitch and moan a lot. Sure. But there have been countless instances in my life where they stood up to help me out. I totally trust my family and their values. We are a different version of American than the version Mitt Romney talks about.

And you know what? His loss, not mine.