2023 College Scholarship 1st Place Essay: Amilla Rose Umali

There are words that may be foreign to my tongue, but are familiar to my heart. As an American-born Filipino, I grew up listening to the CDs that my mom and dad owned. I always thought that they were pretty catchy, but I never understood what the lyrics meant. I would hear words such as, “awitin” and “sumayaw,” but never knew enough to actually understand what it meant. It was not till the day when I was told to learn the Philippine National Anthem that I finally could grasp the meaning of Philippine music. Once I discovered what it meant to me, my eyes and ears were opened to a whole new world of appreciation.

To me, Filipino music begins with a feeling. As the beat of a drum mixes with the strumming of an acoustic guitar, the rhythm steadies and fills the soul with warmth. When I first learned how to sing songs such as, “Sana,” “Tanging Yaman,” and “Diyos Ay Pag-Ibig,” for my choir, I did not understand what the words meant. The only thing I had to appreciate was the melody, and that alone used to be wonderful enough for me. The flow of the songs gently cradled my soul, and I always felt right at home singing it with my choir. I remember I asked my mom about the meaning of each song, and the translation only made me want to absorb more music. I felt the consideration put into each line of the song, and how carefully crafted a single word was. I learned first-hand how to really appreciate lyrics in Tagalog when I was encouraged to learn the Philippine National Anthem. Singing each crisp word gave me a sense of pride for the Philippines. As I learned the anthem, my mom would tell me about the history of the Philippines and how brave everyone had to be. Filipinos were fighters and lovers, with a strong sense of pride in their country. I soaked in that sense of pride and I delivered it as I sang the Philippine National Anthem to the audience for the very first time. When I heard the adults and the elderly people join me in singing, I could not help but feel so proud and happy that I was Filipino. My ears were blessed with the many voices of different Filipino people, who all shared the same sense of pride under one anthem. I felt the same way back then when I learned Filipino folk songs for the first time as well. The first completed piece that I learned on my violin was entitled, “Filipino Folk Song Medley,” and was arranged by the Filipino American Symphony Orchestra as the first piece of many pieces for the Youth String Ensemble. The medley contained lullabies and cultural reminders of the ways of the Philippines. Watching the audience soak in the sound of their culture made me realize that music was not only something to be produced, but something to listen to and feel with the heart and soul.

To feel Philippine music flood the senses and to remember things that were tucked so deeply into the mind gives a nostalgic and comforting feel. Music is also a memory, and Philippine music does not only allow the chance to relive memories, but it also provides the opportunity to create memories. There are memories filled with karaoke in the car, friends singing at the top of their lungs at a party, or listening to sad and tear-jerking songs to mend a broken heart. Philippine music roots from the Philippines, but is carried on by Filipino artists, whether older or modern. Music from older artists, such as Side A, Gary Valenciano, and Jose Marie Chan, are being passed down from generation to generation in order to keep the memories of music alive. The memory of a couple’s first love story can be told through their first dance song. The feeling of a family’s first Christmas can be passed down to the future generations through a special Tagalog Christmas song. Not only are memories passed down, but they are also being made. Modern Filipino artists, such as Beabadoobee, Grent Perez, and Zack Tabudlo, are creating music that modern day teenagers can relate to and get into their feels with. Whether it is the song that makes someone realize they are falling in love, or a song that makes someone cry their heart out with their friends while they sing, the language and heritage of Filipino culture is put into each song. Philippine love songs give a very special, vulnerable, and heartstring tugging sensation that other love songs do not always do. Whether it is “Forevermore” by Side A, or “Mabagal” by Moira Dela Torre and Daniel Padilla, my voice sings while my heart carries the tune. Each word more emphasized than the previous one reminds me how much I appreciate how I learned of each song. From the way my mom taught me love songs from her past as a way of carrying on her music taste, to my best friend telling me that she would love to hear a certain song at her wedding, each song that I learn to sing reminds me of a different part of my past. Music is a memory, as each note holds a part of the past that can only be remembered once you hear a certain tune. It is the memory of loved ones passing down their legacy for you to remember and cherish.

Philippine music is the steady embrace of emotion. The fine line between a moment and a memory, Philippine music is beyond the definition of a feeling. It was the song a father would sing to his daughter on the way to her school, and it was present at the moment she realized she would never get that back. It is a moment of laughter and fun in a drive-through between a mother and daughter who barely knew the words. It is a memory of embarrassment when being serenaded for the first time over a game of truth or dare. It is a memory of a granddaughter singing to her lola her favorite church song in order to strengthen her out of a coma. It was present in the memory of a teenager and her best friend singing over quarantine. It was the moment of realization that someone had fallen again for a young lady after several years. Philippine music carries the memory of emotion, and an exact moment’s feelings throughout time. Philippine music is timeless, as it gets passed down but never gets old.

I may have not grown up in the Philippines like my parents, but I was raised with the love and sounds of Philippine music. From the ones that I can laugh and sing to with my friends, to the ones that make me remember bittersweet moments with my family, to me Philippine music is more than just music. You feel it beyond your senses, you remember it more than your memories, and you can get flooded with it more than anyone thinks is possible. It is a reach beyond the soul, and an encounter that only the heart can handle. This is my Philippine music.