My boss is a lovely Filipino woman.  She is in the prime of her life, has three beautiful daughters, and became an American citizen the legal way in 2013.  There is a thriving Filipino community in my area, and in 2023, they threw a Christmas party for the first time since 2019. 

My boss asked me if I could work up the program for the evening’s events, and because I thoroughly enjoy doing such things, and have the necessary tools, I agreed.  While working on the project, it crossed my mind that this event sounded amazing.  So I essentially invited myself.  I’m not proud of it, but I’m not ashamed of asking, either.  She said I was absolutely welcome, so I attended. 

The event was hosted at a popular and first-class venue.  The attendees were probably 70:30 Filipino to Western European, with a few others mixed in.  No one cared.  We were all there to celebrate the Christmas holiday and the birth of our Savior Jesus Christ. 

They opened the event with “The Star-Spangled Banner,” followed by the Philippine National Anthem.  Then we all recited the American Pledge of Allegiance, standing, hands over hearts, not a kneeler in sight.  It was magical. 

The rest of the evening was spent eating great food and enjoying scripted performances in vocals, instruments, and dance, as well as general free-form dancing by all attendees.  The women were all beautiful, proudly dressed in satins and sequins, beads and bangles, and were friendly and welcoming.  The men were dressed a bit more casually, but neatly and tastefully, and were polite and accommodating.  (The women asked the men to take a lot of pictures.) 

It felt like stepping back in time in a way — back to the Christmas parties I experienced as a younger woman in the ’80s and ’90s, when loving your country and your fellow man was a given, and dressing up to celebrate the coming of Christ was the norm.  It was both exhilarating and depressing. 

It was depressing because all too many native-born Americans today despise themselves and their heritage. 

It was exhilarating because while it was a majority Filipino event, that’s not at all what I saw.  What I saw was a majority American event, and it filled me with great hope for the future.  Thank you, Filipino Americans, for giving this pasty white girl a place at the table, and a taste of what my culture used to value, and sadly seems to have abandoned.  If what I experienced that evening is any indication, the American Dream is alive and well, and filled with beautiful people who love our country.  Refreshing, indeed. 

Back to the original question: Why are Americans so lonely?  It’s because we have forsaken community, forgotten the breaking of bread and the unity of shared culture.  If you are lonely, seek out the shared communities in your area, and maybe look for those cultures that embrace not only their own heritage, but yours as well.  I felt very at home with my fellow Americans at this event.  It gave me great hope, and a jolly good evening!

Image via Pexels.