October Belongs to Us: Filipino American History Month as Movement, Memory, and Refusal

My October Reflections, part 2

October Belongs to Us: Filipino American History Month as Movement, Memory, and Refusal

As a trained historian with a deep passion for my field, I am actively engaged in both writing about and promoting Kamalayang Pangkasaysayan (historical consciousness). I strive to contribute meaningfully to the ongoing discourse on Kapwa Nationalism.

On my homepage (mccanlast.com), I have articulated my historical statement as follows:

It is only through the continual telling and retelling of our stories that we sustain our collective memory of the struggles for justice, freedom, and democracy, allowing these ideals to endure for this generation and those to come.

"Ang hindi marunong lumingon sa pinanggalingan ay hindi makakarating sa paroroonang may kasarinlan, katarungan, demokrasya, at kaginhawaan."

Filipino American History Month (FAHM) is not simply a calendar designation—it is a movement, a reclamation, and a refusal to be erased. Launched and championed by the Filipino American National Historical Society (FANHS), October has become a season of remembrance and resistance, transforming public memory through community engagement, historical scholarship, and cultural affirmation.

FANHS did more than advocate for a month. It built an infrastructure of belonging. Through its many local and regional chapters, FANHS activated communities to uncover buried histories, document family migrations, and highlight Filipino American contributions in labor, education, arts, and activism. Their work has resulted in a growing archive of publications, exhibitions, oral histories, and counter-memory markers. Cities and states across the country now issue proclamations and commendations recognizing FAHM—testaments to the power of grassroots historical work.

But why October?

Not because of Morro Bay 1587, the site of the earliest recorded Filipino presence in what is now the continental U.S.—a moment often romanticized but rooted in colonial encounter. October was chosen with intention. It aligns with the birthday of labor leader Larry Itliong (October 25), whose role in the Delano Grape Strike and the founding of the United Farm Workers is a cornerstone of Filipino American labor history. It also fits the academic calendar, allowing schools and universities to integrate Filipino American history into curricula and programming. Symbolically, October is a time of harvest—a fitting metaphor for the fruits of Filipino American labor, migration, and resistance.

More importantly, October offers a distinct space outside the confines of Asian Pacific American Heritage Month in May, where Filipino Americans are often marginalized. Within the APA umbrella, “Asian” tends to center East Asian identities—Chinese, Japanese, Korean—while “Pacific Islander” is often reserved for Polynesian and Micronesian communities. Filipinos, with their complex colonial and geographic histories, are frequently rendered invisible. This erasure is compounded by data aggregation, cultural misrecognition, and the model minority myth, which fails to account for the unique struggles and contributions of Filipino Americans.

FAHM is a refusal to be footnoted in someone else’s story. It insists on specificity, sovereignty, and historical agency. It is a time to center Filipino American labor, migration, and resistance; to reclaim narratives of colonialism and diaspora; and to activate kapwa and kamalayang pangkasaysayan in public memory.

October is not just the best month for Filipino American History—it is the month Filipino Americans made their own. Through FANHS’s visionary leadership and the collective efforts of communities across the country, October has become a living archive, a communal ritual, and a declaration: We are here. We have always been here. And we will continue to remember, resist, and reframe.

Facebook series 10/3/2025