Eileen Gu and Alysa Liu are being honored by their hometowns

SCREEN CAPTURE

As Grand Marshall of San Francico's Chinese New Year parade Eileen Gu was greeted with cheers.

Olympians Eileen Gu and Alysa Liu are back home in the Bay Area and their hometowns are celebrating their athletic accomplishments.

While the national media often tries to frame their careers through a lens of geopolitical tension, the local Asian American community is offering a much warmer, more nuanced embrace. From the streets of San Francisco to the rinks of Oakland, the sentiment is clear: these are our daughters, and we are proud of them.

In San Francisco, Eileen Gu recently took center stage as the Grand Marshal of the Chinese New Year Parade. Despite the "traitor" labels tossed around in the darker corners of the internet, the crowds in Chinatown roared with approval. 

Community leaders have been quick to point out that Gu’s success is an affirmation of the Chinese American identity, a bridge between two worlds that many locals navigate every single day. To the people who watched her grow up, her choice to represent China isn't a betrayal—it’s a personal journey of heritage.

Across the Bay Bridge, Oakland is gearing up for a massive rally at Frank H. Ogawa Plaza to honor Alysa Liu. The vibe in the East Bay is one of pure hometown pride, focusing on Liu’s signature grit and the "Oakland swag" she brings to the ice. 

FYI: The city of Oakland is planning a massive homecoming rally for Alysa Liu on Thursday, March 12 at Frank H. Ogawa Plaza in front of City Hall.

Even with the complex history involving her father’s political activism, the community is rallying behind her as a hometown hero who has navigated immense pressure with grace.

As for Alysa, she seems to be everywhere you turn as she bathed in the Olympics afterglow: on talk shows, interviews by major media and in two giant murals (one in Oakland and the other in Los Angeles where she goes to school.)

She is a lively interview. Since the Olympics she announced she would not compete in the upcoming World Skating Championship this year. Not unusual as she values her frends more than the rigors of training and then, there's school where she is majoring in psychology at UCLA. 

She also said she and her family lean towards progressive causes especially around the environment and immigration, mentioning some of the "No Kings" protests in which she has participated. Liu has also defended Eileen Gu's decision to ski for China.

Liu and Gu first met each other at a Bay Area Chinese banquet when Alysa just won the US figure skating title at the age of 13. At that point, Gu was 15. They sang karaoke together, and, says Alysa, they've been friends ever since.

Alysa Liu is a favorite in the talk show circuit for her outspokeness and lively personality.

Despite the heavy political discourse that has followed them since the 2022 Beijing Games, both Gu and Liu remain steadfast in their perspective: they see themselves as athletes first, regardless of whether they are representing China or the United States.

Liu has been particularly vocal in her defense of Gu, labeling the intense scrutiny over national loyalty as "hypocritical," she says in an intreview in the New York Times. She points out the irony of critics who tell immigrants to "go back to where they came from" suddenly becoming outraged when an athlete chooses to represent their ancestral heritage. 

For these two, the bond of their shared Bay Area upbringing and Chinese descent outweighs the noise of international politics.What resonates most within the AAPI community is how both young women insist on being athletes first. They are rejecting the rigid binary that demands they choose one side of their identity over the other. 

To Liu and Gu, it isn't about geopolitical maneuvering; it’s about a love for the game and the drive to compete at the highest level. They’ve made it clear that while flags may change, their identity as competitors and friends remains unchanged.

By standing by each other and dismissing the outside noise as "hypocritical," Liu and Gu are modeling a new kind of cultural solidarity. They prove that you can represent different flags while sharing the same roots, reminding us all that the bond of community is far stronger than any political headline.

EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 

Filipino American among the first US soldiers to die in Trump's war

Chief Warrant Officer Robert Marzan was among the first US soldiers to die after Donald Trump ordered US military to join Israeli force to launch an  attacke against Iran.

In a heartbreaking blow to the Filipino American community and the sprawling military family of Northern California, Chief Warrant Officer 3 Robert M. Marzan has become the first Filipino American casualty of the escalating conflict in the Middle East.

At 54, Marzan was a "gentle giant" of the 103rd Sustainment Command who had dedicated over three decades to service, only to have his life stolen by an Iranian drone strike at Port Shuaiba, Kuwait, on March 1.

The tragedy carries a particularly bitter sting: Marzan was just two months shy of finishing his final deployment and returning to Sacramento to celebrate his 55th birthday with his wife, Tina, and daughter, Felicia.

His death underscores the heavy, often overlooked price paid by immigrant communities and people of color who form the backbone of the U.S. military. As a Filipino American born to immigrant parents, Marzan’s journey reflected the dual identity of many in the diaspora—balancing a deep pride in his heritage with a tireless "servant’s heart" for his country.

He was born and raised in Elk Grover, California where he attended high school. The tight-knit agricultural community was  among the first to honor him with flags flown at half-staff. His parents were immigrants from the Philippines.

From the halls of Elk Grove to the corridors of power in Sacramento, flags now fly at half-staff, serving as a somber reminder that the cost of geopolitical instability is always measured in the lives of dedicated individuals like Marzan.

Marzan's loss is a stark prompt for a progressive re-evaluation of the endless cycles of violence that claim our best—men like Robert who should have been home blowing out birthday candles rather than standing in the crosshairs of a drone strike.

As Virginia and California leaders offer their condolences, the focus remains on a family whose homecoming celebration has been cruelly replaced by a funeral, reminding us all of the human faces behind the tactical maps.

"Yesterday, I joined my colleagues on the House floor to mourn the loss of six American servicemembers, including Chief Warrant Officer Three Robert M. Marzan of Sacramento," said Rob. Ami Vera.

"We have a solemn responsibility to care for the families of the fallen and for every American who wears our nation’s uniform."

        RELATED: Millions of Filipinos in the line of fire.

Marzan was among he six members of the Army Reserve who died March 2 when a drone hit a command center in Port Shuaiba, Kuwait, one day after the US and Israel launched a surprise attack against Iran, killing many of Iran's leaders, including Ayatollah Ali Khamenei.

“The sacrifices made by military families are immeasurable, and California stands in solidarity with them, united in grief and gratitude. Chief Warrant Officer Three Marzan's steadfast commitment exemplifies the highest ideals of our state and our country,” Newsom and Kounalakis wrote in a statement.

Newsom also ordered flags at the State Capitol and Capitol Annex Swing Space to be flown at half-staff in his honor.

As of March 8, specific burial details for Marzan have not been publicly released. His remains were transferred to Dover Air Force Base, Delaware on March 7, in a somber ceremonial return attended by Donald Trump and family members.

Irene Mary, Marzan's neice, wrote on Facebook: "While the entire world now knows your name uncle, you have always been my loving and fun uncle, grandma’s baby, a devoted husband, protective and loving father, baby brother, cousin and best friend to many.

“You’re our Hero with a servant’s heart, you lead with love and bravery, you gave the ultimate sacrifice for our country, an honorable soldier, and I believe God welcomed you home."

EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 

Jesse Jackson included Asian Americans in the Rainbow Coalition

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SCREEN CAPTURE / ABC

Jesse Jackson held a rally in San Francisco's Chinatown bringing Asian Americans
into the Rainbow Coalition.

OPINION

Jesse Jackson was buried Friday, March 5.

One of the highlights of my career as a journalist was covering the 1984 Democratic Convention in San Francisco and getting inspired by the big-name speakers of which Jesse Jackson stood out. For those of us in the Asian American community, Jackson’s "Rainbow Coalition" wasn't just a catchy campaign slogan—it was a radical invitation to finally take a seat at the political table.

Civil rights activist Jackson campaigned for the Presidential nomination of the Democratic Party. The nomination went to Vice President Walter Mondale who eventually lost to Ronald Reagan in a landslide.

Reporting for the Philippine News during those high-stakes days at the Moscone Center felt like a watershed moment. For the first time, our Filipino American news outlet wasn't stuck behind a rope line or treated as an afterthought — we were credentialed and respected alongside the mainstream giants. It was a tangible shift in how our community's voice was valued in the national arena.

Jackson’s Rainbow Coalition rhetoric that year was a jolt to the system. He didn’t just mention "yellow" alongside "black, brown, and white" for the sake of a rhyme; he dug into the raw nerves of our history. From the convention stage, he bridged the gap between the Black civil rights struggle and our own, decrying the Chinese Exclusion Act and the Rock Springs Massacre where 28 Chinese miners were killed, as part of a shared American legacy of exclusion.

Prior to the 1984 convention Jackson held a landmark rally at Portsmouth Square, the heart of San Francisco's Chinatown, to champion his Rainbow Coalition and forge a historic Black and Asian alliance.

At a time when civil rights were often framed solely as a Black-White issue, Jackson's presence in Chinatown acknowledged Asian Americans as a significant political force. He was introduced at the event by local activists like Eddie Wong and Mabel Teng. A month later, Teng later introduced Jackson at the DNC, becoming the first Asian American to introduce a major candiate at a national political convention.

“The Rainbow Coalition includes Asian Americans, now being killed in our streets — scapegoats for the failures of corporate, industrial, and economic policies,” said Jackson from the DNC stage.

Jesse Jackson's Rainbow Coalition transformed the Democratic Party.

He argued that under Reagan-era policies, immigrant and minority communities were unfairly blamed for domestic economic decline while being denied the benefits of national prosperity. (It is the same racist GOP playbook used by Donald Trump.)

Perhaps most powerful was how Jackson personalized the Asian American experience. He brought Lily Chin — the mother of Vincent Chin, who was murdered in Detroit by disgruntled autoworkers who thought he was Japanese — into the national spotlight, drawing a straight line from her son's murder to the lynching of Emmett Till. He saw us not as a "model minority," but as fellow "scapegoats" of failing economic policies.

Jackson's advocacy also extended to long-overdue justice for Japanese Americans. Long before the Civil Liberties Act of 1988 finally authorized reparations, Jackson was using his platform to demand redress for the families who had been stripped of their rights and dignity in US concentration camps during WWII.

Jackson was a frequent critic of the Marcos dictatorship before and after the Democratic convention.

He formally pledged his support for the democratic movement in the Philippines and called for the end of the Marcos dictatorship. His opposition was most prominent during the final years of the Marcos administration:

In February 1986, as the "People Power" Revolution began in the Philippines, Jackson met with a coalition of Filipino groups in Los Angeles to pledge his support for the rebellion against Marcos.

During that L.A. meeting in 1986, Jackson publicly called on President Ronald Reagan to provide a plane for Marcos to leave the Philippines, effectively advocating for his removal from power.

Jackson's approach transformed the language of justice into a framework that allowed Filipino Americans to advocate for themselves as a distinct and essential "patch" in the American quilt, rather than a separate or invisible community. 

• 
  

That 1984 convention also gave us a moment of pure representation:
Mabel Teng making history as the first Asian American woman to introduce a presidential candidate on a national stage. Jackson's Rainbow Coalition transformed  the Democratic Party which, from tha point on, became the party advocating for diversity and inclusion of communities living on the edge of America politics.

Looking back, 1984 reminds us that the fight for visibility of all the AANHPI communities was forged in that "Rainbow" of solidarity — and as a journalist for the Philippine News, I had a front-row seat to the change.

Jesse Jackson was buried Friday, but his legacy lives on.

EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 

Attention AP Style Guide: start using the 'West Philippine Sea' for global hot spot

What was historically rich fishing grounds for Filipino fishers, Scarborough Shoal
  was turned into a military base for China with a harbor and airport strip.

OPINION

It’s time for the American media to stop doing Beijing’s PR and start calling the West Philippine Sea by its rightful name.

For years, newsrooms from Midtown to Mountain View have leaned on the "South China Sea" as a default. But as the National Mapping and Resource Information Authority (NAMRIA) just confirmed with its latest official maps, this isn't just about water; it's about sovereignty and international law.

Words matter

Here is why the AP Style Guide, the "bible" for a majority of news outlets in the US, needs to catch up with the rapidly deteriorating situation in the waters between the Philippines and the Peoples Republic of China.

In the world of "gray zone" tactics, names matter. Using "South China Sea" for the waters within Manila’s Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ) unwittingly endorses China’s debunked "nine-dash line," which claims 90% of the body of ocean. By adopting "West Philippine Sea," American news outlets could properly align their reporting with the 2016 Arbitral Award, which legally shredded Beijing’s historical claims.

The Philippine Maritime Zones Act isn't just local politics; it’s a codification of UNCLOS principles. When the Philippine Coast Guard reports a water-cannoning incident at Bajo de Masinloc, calling it the "South China Sea" muddies the fact that the aggression is happening inside recognized Philippine territory.

It’s high time American media start talking about the brewing storm in the Pacific that most folks back home couldn’t find on a map if their lives depended on it. While the nightly news remains obsessed with Ukraine, Iran, Greenland andTaiwan, a much more volatile fuse is burning in the sea between China  and the Philippines. Vietnam and Malaysia also lay claims that challenge the PRC's  flaunting of international rule. 

We’re talking about the Philippines and China, and let’s be clear: this isn’t just a "dispute" over some rocks and water. It’s a David-and-Goliath struggle where David is backed by a US Mutual Defense Treaty that could pull American sailors and pilots into a shooting war faster than you can say "freedom of navigation."

The channel between China and the Philippines is one of the most critical arteries for global commerce, functioning as a primary link between the Pacific and Indian Oceans. Approximately 24% to 33% of all global maritime trade transits these waters annually. Estimates of the value of goods passing through the sea range from $3.4 trillion to $5.3 trillion per year -- with a vessel density 1.5 times that of the Mediterranean and 7.5 times that of the Caribbean.

Just short of war

The level of aggression we’re seeing from Beijing lately has moved past simple posturing and into the realm of the truly egregious. We’ve watched as Chinese Coast Guard vessels—which are essentially gray-hull warships painted white for PR—have intentionally rammed tiny Philippine wooden resupply boats, shattering hulls and putting sailors' lives at risk. Perhaps most disturbing is the calculated use of high-pressure water cannons, which have been turned on Philippine crews with enough force to tear metal off ships and cause serious injuries to personnel.

In one of the most chilling displays of "might makes right," Chinese personnel have even been seen brandishing axes and knives during boardings, physically intimidating Philippine troops who are just trying to bring food and water to their outposts.

The reality on the ground — or on the water, rather — is a masterclass in "gray zone" warfare. By using these brutal tactics just shy of actual gunfire, Beijing is betting that they can bully Manila into submission without triggering the tripwire that brings the U.S. Seventh Fleet into the fray. But that’s a dangerous gamble to take under the unpredictable Trump regime which doesn't hesitate to use the Big Stick in other parts of the world, ie the Middle East and Venezuela.

Chinese vessels  often use water cannons to intimidate the Philippines Coast Guard vessel.

When you start swinging axes and ramming ships in the middle of the ocean, the margin for error disappears. One mistake, one dead sailor, or one panicked trigger finger is all it takes for a localized scuffle to turn into a global catastrophe. We might be looking the other way right now, but the Edge is getting narrower by the day.

View from the Edge

Unlike Donald Trump's attempt to change the name the Gulf of Mexico to the Gulf of America, the West Philippine Sea is a recognized body of water. China's claim to the sea and atolls hundreds of miles from its coast is a case of geographic overreach and the US media, in particular, should pay more attention to this part of the world where some say is a tinderbox waiting for a spark.

If the US is serious about a "Free and Open Indo-Pacific," our media shouldn't be using the nomenclature of the aggressor. We don't call the Gulf of Mexico the "South American Sea," and we shouldn't let China dictate the geography of a sovereign ally.

Trump and War Department Secretary Pete Hegseth have reaffirmed  the 1951 US-Philippines Mutual Defense Treaty (MDT) and reassured that the pact is active, ironclad and central to regional security obligating both nations to defend against external armed attacks. It remains robust amid rising Philippine-China tensions, reinforced by the 2014 Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement (EDCA) allowing rotational U.S. troop presence.

Thus far, the US has avoided direct contact with PRC ships and aircraft, but China continues to harass and intimidate the vessels of Philippine Coast Guard and Filipino fishers. The US Navy has countered China's bullying with shows of strength of its own by sailing numerous US warships through the disputed channel, which could be interpreted as a dare to PRC military.

The AP Style Guide often uses the broader term South China Sea for geographic context while attributing the "West Philippine Sea" label when reporting on Philippine government positions and acknowledges the latter term is part of the greater body of the former term. According to the AP Style Guide, the "West Philippine Sea" term refers specifically to the portion of the South China Sea that falls within the Philippines' Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ).

However, most US news outlets do not make that distinction even when the conflicts clearly occur in the EEZ including Scarborough Shoal where China has militarized the atoll with an airport and harbor, and the Spratley islands, where most of the Chinese oceanic bullying occurs.

The Bottom Line: With the recommendation of the National Mapping and Resource Information Authority (NAMRIA) it’s time for the AP Stylebook to update its style guide: West Philippine Sea is the standard for the Philippines' maritime domain. Anything else is just drifting in Beijing's wake.

EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 

Hard choice faces Philippine diaspora caught in the Middle East conflict

Filipino workers flee the Middle East after the US and Israel attacked Iran.

No Filipinos were killed in the US and Israeli airstrikes inside Iran, but the conflict has claimed a Filipino life in the crossfire: Mary Ann Velasquez de Vera was killed in Tel Aviv by an Iranian missile strike on February 28.

The  a 32-year-old caregiver was mortally struck by shrapnel while selflessly  transporting her elderly ward to a bomb shelter. Her employer survived. De Vera didn't.

Velasquez de Vera was found in critical condition after the ballistic missile struck next to an apartment building in the coastal city. Paramedics pronounced her dead while rushing her to the hospital. She was identified by her husband.

Mary Anne de Vera, the first Filipino fatality of the 
US-Israeli attacks against Iran.

A previous employer called Velasquez de Vera "an angel on earth" for the loving care she provided for their late mother.

Meanwhile,  the estimated 1,100 to 1,400 Filipinos living in Iran find themselves navigating a precarious landscape. Most of these individuals are long-term residents with deep roots through marriage, while about a hundred are documented workers. Their situation is a small but high-stakes piece of a much larger puzzle, as they represent just a fraction of the 2.2 million Filipinos currently living and working across the Middle East in construction, hospitality, healthcare and homecare.

With the threat of more Israeli and US military action looming, the Philippine government is shifting into a high-gear response to prevent a repeat of past regional tragedies. President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. has placed all diplomatic posts on high alert, and Iran remains under Alert Level 2, a status that effectively halts new labor deployments and urges those already there to limit non-essential movement.

Behind the scenes, the Philippine Department of Foreign Affairs and the Department of Migrant Workers are already mapping out "Plan B" scenarios, including land-based evacuation routes through Turkmenistan should Iranian airspace become a no-fly zone.

Hundreds of Filipino workers have already returned to the Philippines from various Middle East countries.

For the millions of Filipinos scattered from Tehran to Tel Aviv working in construction, healthcare, nannies and service. the government’s message is one of cautious readiness, emphasizing that while the goal is to stay safe in place, the exit doors are being prepped just in case the "big one" finally hits the region’s stability.

In retaliation to the US and Israeli attacks, Iran has responded with drones targeting US bases in Bahrain, the United Arab Emirates, Qatar, and Kuwait — all countries that host large Filipino communities. The Department of Foreign Affairs estimates that the four countries are home to nearly 1.5 million Filipinos combined: 973,000 in the UAE, 250,000 in Qatar, 211,000 in Kuwait, and 56,000 in Bahrain.

The economic refugee

To understand why Mary Ann V. de Vera was in that building in Tel Aviv, you have to look past the "Bagong Bayani" (Modern Hero) rhetoric the government has hung on the Overseas Fililpino Worker (OFW). 

Government and media call them "heroes" to mask the fact that they are economic refugees. 

When the Department of Foreign Affairs raises "Alert Level 4" (Mandatory Evacuation), it is fighting a losing battle against the Philippine economy. In 2014, when Libyan militias were beheading construction workers, the Philippine government sent ships to evacuate 13,000 Filipinos. Only 2,000 boarded. The rest hid in the desert, terrified that the government would "rescue" them into joblessness.

View from the Edge

Mary Ann didn't die because she loved danger. She died because she was doing the job she was paid to do — protecting her patient — in a country that offered her a future her own homeland could not. The ₱130,000 ($2,220) monthly pension for life  is a life-changing sum for her family in Pangasinan, but it is a grim receipt for the export of our people.

For the OFWs, "Alert Level 2" in Iran feels like a recurring nightmare. The Middle East hosts over 2 million Filipinos, meaning every regional flare-up triggers a dilemma.

It is a grim calculus known as kapit sa patalim (clutching the knife). For the vast majority of OFWs, the fear of the low pay in the Philippines is statistically and psychologically greater than the fear of missiles in the Middle East.

Consider the wage gap. A caregiver in Israel earns $1,500–$2,000 USD (₱85k–₱110k). In the Philippines, the same job pays less than $150.

The choice for OFWs is tough. To repatriate is to plunge 5-10 dependent family members back into poverty.

Because Mary Ann was killed by a "hostile action" while legally employed, Israel's National Insurance Institute (Bituach Leumi) has classified her family as victims of terror. This triggers a (for Filipinos) lifetime pension indexed to the Israeli wage — roughly ₱130,000 ($2,220) per month — granted to her family in Pangasinan is generous compared the average caregiver monthly salary in the Philippines is roughly ₱22,000 ($377). A highly-trained nurse in the Philippines earns about ₱18,000 ($308) to ₱28,000 ($480).

The irony is sharp: It took an Iranian missile in Tel Aviv to give a Filipino family the financial security that a lifetime of labor in the Philippines never could.

For the majority of OFWs in the Middle East, the choice is clear. They stay. They hide. They pray the rockets miss.

EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 

FYI: To stay connected as the situation in the region develops, Filipinos inIran and their families should keep these official contact details close at hand. The primary lifeline for those in Tehran is the Philippine Embassy's 24/7 Assistance to Nationals (ATN) hotline at +98 912 213 6801, which is also available via WhatsApp for those who might have limited mobile signal.

For matters regarding passports or visas, the Consular hotline at +98 912 105 5637 is the number to call, or you can reach out via email at tehran.pe@dfa.gov.ph

For broader support, the Department of Migrant Workers (DMW) operates a dedicated One Repatriation Command Center accessible through the 1348 hotline in the Philippines or (+632) 1348 for those calling internationally. Staying vigilant and keeping these numbers saved could make all the difference if the regional situation necessitates a quick move to safety.

AAPI casts of 'The Pitt' and 'Sinners' are a win for diversity at Actors Awards

The Pinay power trio on for  'The Pitt' earned Actors Awards for (from left):
Kristin Villanueava, Isa Briones and Amielynn Abellera

Look, we’ve spent years seeing Asians on TV and movies as either the "tech support" or the silent background extra, but at the 32nd Annual Actor Awards on March 1, the cast of the TV drama The Pitt and the Sinners movie officially flipped the script. 

While Asian actors did not win the top four individual acting awards this year at what used to be called the SAG-AFTRA Awards, they were vital to the night's biggest ensemble wins

The night’s biggest headline for the AAPI community was undoubtedly the historic ensemble win for The Pitt, which finally put Filipino American and South Asian actors at the center of the frame.

The medical drama didn't just win; it took home the trophy for Best Ensemble in a Drama Series, proving that when you actually cast us, we deliver. 

For the Filipino community, this wasn't just another award — it was a long-overdue "salute and recognition". In a field where Filipino nurses have been the literal backbone of American healthcare for decades, seeing the Filipino American actors  accept those awardds voted on by their peers felt like a win for every tita and tito in scrubs. 

The power of Filipino representation

Perhaps the most significant achievement of The Pitt is its unapologetic spotlight on the Filipino community. In the real world, Filipino nurses and doctors are the lifeblood of American hospitals, yet they are historically sidelined in TV scripts. With the goal of reflecting real life,The Pitt changes the narrative with a powerful trio:

• Dr. Trinity Santos (Isa Briones): A high-achieving Filipino American resident who navigates the intense pressures of the hospital with a competitive edge that feels earned and real.

• Nurse Perlah Alawi (Amielynn Abellera): A Filipino Muslim nurse whose presence brings a vital, often-ignored intersection of identity to the forefront.

• Nurse Princess Dela Cruz (Kristin Villanueva): Representing the heart of the ER, she embodies the dedication and empathy that Filipino healthcare workers are known for globally.

For decades, Filipino characters were the "background" of medical shows. Seeing three distinct Filipino characters—each with their own faith, personality, and professional standing—is a radical act of visibility. It acknowledges the historical legacy of Filipino labor in US healthcare that dates back over a century.

But The Pitt's representation didn’t end there. The ensemble win also spotlighted a deep bench of South Asian talent that is finally moving past the "nerdy sidekick" trope:

Supriya Ganesh (Dr. Samira Mohan): An American actress of Indian origin who brought nuance to the role of a workaholic resident. She’s been vocal about how South Asian women in medicine finally feel "seen" through her character.

Shabana Azeez (Victoria Javadi): The Australian-born actress plays a med-school prodigy struggling to live up to her surgeon parents’ legacy. Her presence—alongside Ganesh—shatters the "there can only be one" rule that has limited South Asian actors for years.

This wasn't just a win for a show; it was a win for a cast that looks like the actual world we live in. When they all stood on that stage together, it wasn't about diversity as a "checklist"—it was about a family of actors who earned their trophies.

The Pitt wasn't the only ensemble earning the Actors Award. The Studio won the award for Outstanding Performance by an Ensemble in a Comedy Series.

The Chinese-American actress Chase Sui Wonders took home a trophy as part of the winning ensemble for Apple’s hit comedy. The rest of the cast included Seth Rogen, Kathryn Hahn and Ike Barinholtz,.

'Sinners' cast wins

While the TV wins were a "salute" to the medical community, the film categories proved that AAPI actors were part of the Best Cast in a Motion Picture for the motion picture Sinners, including:

Hailee Steinfeld: The Oscar nominee (who is of Filipino descent) added an Actor Award to her mantle as part of the powerhouse ensemble for Ryan Coogler's vampire drama.

Li Jun Li: The Chinese American actress was a key part of the winning cast, further cementing her status as a top-tier ensemble player.

View from the edge

With these wins coming on the heels of the wild success of Everything, Everywhere All At Once in 2022, Shogun in 2024 (with a second season in the works), and current streaming hits Butterfly with Daniel Dae Kim, Ballard with Maggie Q and The Copenhagen Test with Simu Liu is an indication Hollywood is coming to realize that real diversity and inclusion of a diverse cast doesn't mean token characters here and there but a reflection of the changing demographics of real life fand signifies a major shift in visible representation and the mainstreaming of diverse narratives in Hollywood.

EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 

Bruno Mars is back, releases his new solo album 'The Romantic', & announces new tour

Its been too long (10 years) but our favorite Filipino-Puerto Rican superstar, Bruno Mars, is back in the driver’s seat after dropping his fourth solo studio album, The Romantic.

For the Asian American community, Bruno has always been a point of immense pride. Seeing a Pinoy face dominate the global stage isn't just about the music; it’s about the representation he brings to every "uptown funk" beat and "versace" slide.

Born and raised in Hawaii to a Filipino mother and Puerto Rican father, Mars' new album leans into his Latino roots with the use rhythmic accents of boleros, mariachi, and salsa. Released on February 27, The Romantic is already being hailed as a masterpiece of "modern nostalgia."

While the whole album drips with soul, three tracks stand out as his most direct tribute to those Caribbean and Latin rhythms:

"Cha Cha Cha": will most likely be a favorite among Filipinos who love get on the dance floor with the cha-cha. The most rhythmic of the bunch, this track trades the usual 808s for a mellow salsa percussion section, creating a groove that feels like a backyard party in Spanish Harlem. Rolling Stone notes it even cleverly interpolates hip-hop vibes into its tropical swing.

"Something Serious": This is where Bruno channels his inner Carlos Santana. It’s a percussion-heavy jam that Stereogum says "jacks its groove" from the legends of Latin rock and boogaloo, putting the cowbell and brass front and center.

"Risk It All": The album opener sets the stage with dramatic mariachi horns and bolero-style vocals, reminiscent of the legendary Luis Miguel. It’s a grand, cinematic nod to the "romantic" ballad tradition of his Puerto Rican roots.

A return to soul

Here’s a track-by-track breakdown of the other six songs inThe Romantic. recalling the vintage soul sounds he’s mastered over the years.

The lead single, "I Just Might," didn't just climb the charts—it teleported straight to No. 1, proving that the world was hungry for that signature Mars magic.

Here are the other cuts and what the critics (and the fans) are saying:

"I Just Might" – The record-breaking lead single is a quintessential, bubbly funk anthem that feels like an instant classic for the dance floor.

"God Was Showing Off" – A standout "sweet soul" ballad that Billboard describes as a dreamy, two-chord groove reminiscent of the Philly soul era.

"Why You Wanna Fight?" – This pleading R&B track showcases Mars’ most raw, emotional vocals yet, with raspy harmonies that some are comparing to The Weeknd.

"On My Soul" – A high-octane, sincere pledge of commitment that picks up the pace with manic electric guitar and undeniable physical joy.

"Nothing Left" – A poignant, piano-led lament that echoes his earlier hits like "When I Was Your Man," complete with a distorted, soulful guitar solo.

"Dance With Me" – The album closes with a cinematic, 60s-inspired slow dance that leaves fans swaying under "twinkling stars."

Bruno Mars' new album has influences from his Latin and Blues roots

Breaking records

When the tickets for his 2026 "The Romantic Tour" went on sale, the internet didn't just slow down; it nearly broke. Produced by Live Nation, the tour saw a frenzy that surpassed even the biggest stadium runs of the last decade.

Mars set a new industry benchmark for the most concert tickets sold by a solo male artist in a single 24-hour period, moving over 2.1 million tickets on the first day of sales. Taylor Swift holds the record with $2.4 million in the first day for her The Eras Tour last year.

Mars' staggering number eclipsed records previously held by pop icons, proving that Bruno’s "staying power" is less of a slow burn and more of a wildfire.

Mars is serving as the 2026 Record Store Day Ambassador, releasing a limited compilation titled "The Collaborations" on April 18, featuring his hits with artists like Lady Gaga and Rosé.

Hitting the road

The tour kicks off on April 10 at Allegiant Stadium in Las Vegas—fitting, given his long-standing residency history there. What makes this run special for us is the "pamilya" feel of the lineup. He’s bringing along his Silk Sonic partner Anderson .Paak (performing as DJ Pee .Wee) and soulful openers like Victoria Monét, RAYE and Leon Thomas.

From London’s Wembley Stadium to the massive Rogers Stadium in Toronto, the world is about to get a masterclass in showmanship. For a kid who started as an Elvis impersonator in Waikiki, this isn't just a comeback; it’s a coronation.

EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge. 

The Filipino American legacy of fighting for freedom is taking on Trump

Filiipino American caregivers are applying lessons from resisting authoritarianism under Philippine dictator Marcos Sr. in the 1980s.

WALTER ABAYOYONG / CREATIVE COMMONS

Filipino Americans join one of the No King's rally in Los Angeles.

By Jasmine Mithani

Republished with Permission from The 19th. This piece was published in partnership with The Xylom, a nonprofit newsroom reporting on global health and environmental disparities.

LOS ANGELES — Nurses, labor organizers and survivors of a brutal dictatorship are banding together to apply lessons learned from anti-authoritarian organizing in the Philippines to the present-day United States.

Political activist Myrla Baldonado became one of the “forced disappearances” under Philippine dictator Ferdinand Marcos Sr., in 1983. She was kidnapped by state agents, swept away to a secret location, tortured and then imprisoned for two years.

She sees echoes of what she experienced in the United States today. But she has hope that nonviolent protests, like the No Kings rallies, can enact change the same way they did in the Philippines. Nearly two million people marched down Epifanio delos Santos Avenue, or EDSA, in 1986 to protest against the Marcos regime. The disgraced dictator abandoned his office and fled to the United States.

“The lesson is that dictators fall. I mean, since time immemorial, this happened, from Nazi Germany to what happened during the ESDA Revolution and many other dictators. You all fall down,” Baldonado said. “It’s only a matter of time that they do.”

She wants people who are despairing or mired in hopelessness to know that the more cruel those in power become, the harder more and more people will fight back.

Joe Arciaga, a nurse and veteran, is the driving force behind bringing the No Kings rallies to Historic Filipinotown, a residential enclave west of Downtown Los Angeles. He wanted to link local activism with national pro-democracy movements, and founded the Filipino American Lakas Collective in 2025. Through that, he pulled together the rallies in Unidad Park in June and October. Now he’s gearing up for round three, in March.

Lakas — “strength” in Tagalog — is new, but it joins a rich network of community groups that have been organizing for civil and labor rights for decades. Led by advocates for Filipino health care and domestic workers, many of whom are single women new to the country, they have mobilized to support their community as violent Immigrations and Customs Enforcement actions increased across the city.

At the rallies, titos and titas handed out water and freshly baked pandesal, reminiscing of when their legs were strong enough to march all the way to City Hall. American and Philippine flags were interspersed with signs equating President Donald Trump with former Philippine leaders Marcos and Rodrigo Duterte.

California is home to 40 percent of the nation’s Filipino Americans, and the Los Angeles metropolitan area is home to the largest population of Filipinos outside of the Philippines.

The long arm of American imperialism played a role in these current demographics. The Philippines was an American colony until 1946. During that time, nursing schools were built and maintained by the colonial government. When immigration quotas were abolished in 1965, it became easier for Filipinos to immigrate to the United States, and many women nurses were encouraged to do so as the Marcos administration sought to grow the economy with diaspora funds.

At home, the democratically elected Marcos prolonged his presidency and concentrated power through martial law beginning in 1972. That spelled danger for activists like Baldonado, who started protesting against the Marcos administration when she was in college. She continued her activism for over a decade, cutting contact with her family for their safety and going by a different name. But in 1983, government agents grabbed her from a library. Baldonado became one of the regime’s “forced disappearances,” held in a secret location and tortured. After a couple weeks she was transferred to a jail, where she was imprisoned for two years. Baldonado was free but still recovering from her ordeal when the People Powered Revolution overthrew Marcos in a mostly bloodless uprising in 1986.

At the No Kings rally in June, she brought red carnations and passed them out to the attendees.

“No one believed we could bring down Marcos without bloodshed,” Baldonado said later in an interview. “The flower was a symbol of that, the urge for people to do it in the nonviolent way and to deescalate.”

Baldonado’s American chapter began in 2006, when she immigrated and took a job as a home care worker. The conditions were untenable: She experienced verbal abuse and sexual harassment, and her pay averaged only $5 per hour.

Baldonado began organizing for better working conditions for caregivers and domestic workers, first in Chicago and then across the nation. Her work was honored by the Obama administration.

Now, she works as the director of community engagement at the Pilipino Workers Center of Southern California, continuing to advocate for care workers. Many of the people she works with are middle-aged single women who immigrated from the Philippines — similar to her story.

In the new Trump administration, the center has been hosting immigrant rights trainings and supporting detained Angelenos. Baldonado sees the hopelessness overtaking people in the wake of rising violence from the state, but she believes change will come through people-powered action, just like it eventually did against Marcos.

“We want them to see that there is still a glimmer of hope, despite all the difficulties that we are having right now,” she said. “History has shown that dictators don’t remain forever.” Baldonado knows that intimately.

At the No Kings rally in October, Jollene Levid climbed onto a park bench and read off the notes she had just finished compiling on her phone.

“We are here today as Filipinos, Filipino Americans, as immigrants, workers, communities of color to remind Trump that this is not 1565,” she cried.

JOE ARCIAGA

Jolene Levid (center) spoke at the No Kings protest.

“We Filipinos will never bow to a crown — from Spain to the Imperial Japanese and American colonizer, to Donald Trump and his cronies, we say NO KINGS!”

Levid had not imagined herself speaking to a crowd. But her mentors, the women who taught her how to build collective power, instilled in her the necessity of translating revolutionary ideas to everyday language.

Like Baldonado, Levid has dedicated her life to the power of collective organizing. Since college she knew she wanted to work with unions. She started organizing as an undergrad, but something felt out of place in those activist spaces: “Women’s issues were always secondary,” she said. “It was almost like always an afterthought. But my experience growing up in an immigrant family as the eldest daughter I knew was always informed by my gender, my sex.”

When she went to an event hosted by a feminist collective in college, everything clicked into place. Now her political home is AF3IRM, a feminist group fighting imperialism around the world. She has served on the leadership of the national organization and is active in the Los Angeles chapter.

AF3IRM has been active in local communities, protesting ICE as well as American intervention in Venezuela and Iran. “We’ve been hitting the streets and organizing new women to join us,” Levid said.

Levid’s family is from north east Los Angeles, one of the most concentrated areas of Filipino Americans in the country, and she still lives there today. But her day job as an organizer for the United Teachers of Los Angeles takes her all over the city.

She has always chosen to work for unions in fields dominated by women. Education and health care are some of the largest sources of overseas Filipina workers, and they wield power differently. “When those women workers strike, the facilities can’t work without them,” Levid said. “Filipino women have been instrumental in these types of labor fights.”

Levid has been busy in 2026, as 94 percent of the teachers union she works for voted in favor of a strike if benefits negotiations stall out.

Levid’s advocacy for workers took a new tack in 2020. After her aunt, Rosary Castro-Olega, became the first health care worker in Los Angeles County to die during the Covid-19 pandemic, Levid dedicated herself to documenting the deaths of Filipino health care workers.

She was part of a group that scoured obituaries to create Kanlungan, a digital memorial. Their data work laid the foundation for future studies that found Filipinos made up a disproportionate amount of nurse deaths during the first year of the pandemic. The numbers are stark: 4 percent of nurses in the United States are Filipino, but they accounted for 26 percent of nursing deaths during that time.

Her work drew the attention of Arciaga, who co-produced “Nurse Unseen,” a 2023 documentary about the history of Filipino nurses and their caregiving during the height of the pandemic.

The topic is personal to Arciaga, whose family left the Philippines after Marcos declared martial law. After serving in Operation Desert Storm during the Gulf War, he entered nursing, encouraged by his wife — who is also a nurse — thinking it would be temporary. Instead, the decision sparked a decades-long career.

Arciaga says it’s an honor to join the ranks of Filipino nurses who have come before him, and he is a member of the Philippine Nurses Association of America.

Arciaga was active in numerous local organizations, but he didn’t see anyone coordinating with national efforts.

“I want to live in a world, a society that respects civil liberties, that respects freedom,” Arciaga said. “I want a government that respects democracy and the rule of law, and I want my legacy to be that of someone who stood up.”

Joe Arciaga organized No King rallies in L.A.'s 
Historic Filipinotown.

He co-founded the Echo Park chapter of Indivisible, the national progressive organization, and the Filipino American Lakas Collective, a group organizing for civil liberties and democracy. And when Indivisible announced the No Kings rallies, he wanted to host one. But he had never put together a protest before.

So he called up Levid, who he met during the production of “Nurse Unseen,” remembering her experience as a union organizer. Levid shared resources she had made and trained volunteers on how to host a successful action. She helped organize the rally in June – and the following one in October, where she agreed to speak. She didn’t know how much larger the crowd would be the second time around.

Wearing all black in the blazing sun, Levid didn’t speak for long, but by the end of her speech the crowd was energized. “They have never and will never break the revolutionary spirit of women’s resistance,” Levid yelled before starting a chant.

“When women and children are under attack, what do we do?”

“Stand up, fight back!” the crowd cheered.

“When our community is under attack, what do we do?”

“Stand up, fight back!”

With two protests under his belt, Arciaga is gearing up for the third No Kings rally, planned for March 28. It will take place at Unidad Park again, where a diverse community will assemble beneath an enormous mural of Filipino freedom fighters.

The name of the mural is “Gintong Kasaysayan, Gintong Pamana.”

Its meaning: A glorious history, a golden legacy.

About the author: Jasmine Mithani is the technology reporter at The 19th. Her coverage revolves around themes of information access, privacy, and politics. Online experiences shape our offline world, so she often writes about extremism and intimate partner violence as well. Jasmine's reporting frequently centers LGBTQ+ perspectives and intersects with reproductive rights. She has a soft spot for stories about the South Asian diaspora and good books and tries to report on solutions, not just problems.