American | Filipino / Irish
My Mom is first generation Irish American, my Father is from the Philippines. They met on a cruise ship, she was a passenger and he played in the band on the ship.
My Father moved back to the Philippines several years ago. I am happy for him because he always wanted to move back home, but I can't help but feel a loss. Most of my extended family live abroad on both sides of my tree. I even live several hours from my closest immediate family members, which feels isolating at times.
I think because I was raised in a mixed household that was also isolated from extended family, I wasn't really raised with much tradition from either culture. I have sought it out myself as an adult though. I have taught myself to cook Filipino food, and I like to read Irish literature. I've also traveled to both countries several times and have tried to learn while visiting. Being physically there makes me feel connected. I've always been very proud of who I am, and where my people come from. Both the Filipinos and the Irish have overcome so much. It's something I remind myself of when I have faced racial adversity in America.
I have hidden my identity as a gay/queer person many times throughout my life, both before and sometimes after I came out. It's always been out of fear of being either socially ostracized or physically hurt. Meanwhile, I've never tried to hide my racial identity, but I don't really think that's possible. I'll say that the people who really know me have described me as good natured, funny, and industrious (to paraphrase). Sometimes I have my doubts about those descriptions, but I think they're right for the most part. I'll not repeat what haters have said, because I know that those are lies. My most vehement critics have never even met me in real life, so I don't give them much credit.
Racism and homophobia have been obvious challenges my whole life. The hatred and fear that I have received has manifested in a spectrum, from subtle microaggressions to blatant attacks. On the positive side, I think being mixed and gay has given me a unique perspective of the world. I understand that things aren't always Black and White. I'm certainly a creature of nuance. I think mixed people are building cultural bridges by merely existing. I think queer people are demonstrating that there are multiple ways to exist in this world.
For years I wanted to write a children's book about being mixed-race. Lucky for me, Christian Trimmer wrote it, and I was asked to illustrate it. I am eternally grateful that he did the hard work of finding the right words, and it was a joy to make the artwork (who doesn't love cute puppies). Our book, ‘What Are You?’ is a great entry point for discussing being mixed-race. I hope that mixed kids see themselves, and I hope that non mixed kids can begin to understand a mixed kid's experience.
Being an author and illustrator is a solitary life. I suppose you could look to my publishers as sort of proxy employers. While I don't have the full demographics of the companies, I don't think there are many mixed-race people employed there. They have been very supportive of my work though, and several of my books deal with being mixed-race. Meanwhile, I am buoyed by every mixed-race author and illustrator I learn about. I think it's important that we see each other and celebrate each other's work. I know I've felt that support from my book community.
My graphic novel, Flamer, has been challenged and banned in different areas of the US. I'm quite bitter about it. I made this book to help the struggling queer youth by sharing a story rooted in my own experience, to show them that I passed through the fire, and am still here. It was how I could help. Now people are sabotaging the life raft I'm trying to throw to them. It's infuriating. But I will say that there's been so much love and support for me and the book. I've also been privileged to witness steadfast and resourceful librarians and educators, as well as smart, brave youth, stand up to censorship. It gives me hope. The fact that people are trying to get rid of my book, and in essence erase me and people like me, only proves the point why my book (and many other books by queer and BIPOC people) need to exist in this world. I am resolved to continue doing what I do.
A loved one has been very ill, and I felt overwhelmed by how much pain they were in. I felt really helpless. There was nothing I could do but listen and cry.
I think instead of having a singular idol, I turn to friends who inspire me for different reasons. I know good people. They excel at different things. I think real friends teach each other things, knowingly or not.