SAN FRANCISCO—HARDLY HAD HE SETTLED into his retirement from one of the highest appointive positions in the city government than Dennis Normandy had a dream to revive the dead.
At any other time, in any other country, his vision would have been scoffed at. But change, as they say, has come to America, and no idea, no matter how lofty or difficult, is impossible now. And so, this Filipino-American dreams—and plans.
Dennis Normandy’s Lazarus is the Filipino-American Political Association (Fapa), one of the earliest political organizations of Filipino immigrants in the US. It was organized in the 1960s by newspaperman Alex Esclamado, recognized as one of the pioneers of Filipino political empowerment in the United States.
Back then Fapa was formed to improve the visibility of Filipino-Americans in the political landscape both here and in the Philippines, and back the fight against racial discrimination. But the group eventually petered out due to disagreements and distractions, some say.
Time is right
“The time is right again for Fapa,” said Normandy, former San Francisco Public Utilities Commission president, pensive in his 12th floor condominium suite. This businessman, who has lived in the city for 40 years, has noted the emergence of ingredients necessary to bring Fapa back to life—the fire and optimism of the young Filipino-Americans, and the experience and money of the second and third generation Filipino immigrants.
“In the US, political activism is predicated on two things: You have to have disposable income and discretionary time. If you are so fully focused only on putting food on your table, then you’re not going to get involved in political activity,” he said, recounting the days when Filipino-Americans began participating in anti-Marcos campaigns here during the dictatorship.
This time, it’s the spirit of volunteerism he saw in the new generation of Filipinos, the children of those who first took to the streets to engage in another battle in another era, that inspired his vision for a new and more efficient Fapa.
This is the generation that is mainstream, having been born and raised here, and therefore aware of America’s reality. “Kailangan lang ng hasa (All they need is honing),” Normandy said.
That they can learn from the ones who came before.
From the first generation of Filipinos who arrived in America in the 1900s as farm workers, to the second generation who entered the military and domestic service in the 1960s, to the third generation of educated middle-class Filipinos fleeing martial law, the lessons of Filipino history in this country have been kept precisely for a time like this.
“Even until the late 1950s, Filipinos could not buy homes. There was a lot of racism, both in policy and practice. I had friends whose parents were white and Filipino. The white wife would come, and the agents would show her the model home, but as soon as she calls her Filipino husband, the offer was shut down,” he said.
“They were marginalized but were strong enough to fight in unions,” which is what the generation of Filipino farm workers did, he said.
By the time the fleeing middle class arrived in the United States, the second generation of immigrants and the children of the first generation have become especially conscious, though still not enough to be considered empowered.
The partnership that arose from these generations of Filipinos in America was the seed of political empowerment.
From the farm workers’ unions to the legal battles on discrimination, Filipino-Americans have come to engage in more mainstream and less controversial activities like electoral campaigns.
SanFo: seat of activism
“San Francisco, for the last 15 years, has become a model of Filipino-American empowerment. We’ve been instrumental in getting the last four mayors elected. We were the swing vote,” Dennis said.
From the measly $10,000 they could raise to support candidates to the $25,000 they pooled together to back the successful bid of Ben Cayetano, elected first Filipino governor of Hawaii, to the latest $100,000. “We have come a long way, we have longer to go,” Normandy said.
“We still have the Old Guard. We’re reaching the stage where we need to see people to whom we can pass the torch. We’re delighted to see people who will step up to the plate and become the new generation (of Filipino-American leaders),” he said.
With the emergence of groups like Filipinos for Obama, a grassroots movement launched last August to bring Filipino voters to Obama (the group claims to have reached over 12,000 households in its campaign), the most ideal circumstances were coming into play.
Normandy also said he has broached the idea of a new Fapa to big corporations in San Francisco and they were warm to it, recognizing the contributions of Filipino-Americans to the city.
“I want to make sure that we do the rebuilding process correctly,” he said. He wants the new Fapa to first be a political action group focused on the Bay Area, where there are around 500,000 Filipinos, and then, given enough funding and manpower, it can expand to California and eventually across the states.
“I don’t want to bite off more than I can chew. We want to get more visible participation in political parties, in their campaigns, stands on issues. There should be a Filipino-American position,” he said.
This will definitely be hard – Filipinos are split into Democrats and Republicans. Two months before the Nov. 4 elections, the National Asian American survey found that 35 percent of Filipino-Americans were for Obama, 29 percent for John McCain and 34 percent were undecided, most of them independents.
The key, Normandy said, is to get all Filipino-Americans to see that the objectives of Filipino-American empowerment should transcend the objectives of Filipino Democrat or Filipino Republican empowerment.
“It’s just a matter of organizing them in a way that they would feel they are part of a larger organization with a mission and vision that are doable,” he said.
No one can blame him for believing. He has taken the advice of a former priest at his alma mater, the Ateneo de Manila University, to heart.
Learn how to live
“Before you make a living, learn how to live,” he was told. And he did this, until political turmoil forced him to leave the Philippines with his wife and three sons.
Coming from a wealthy American family in Manila, Normandy had the means to go to the United States. He first arrived in Washington where his relatives were based, but the riots—it was the time when Martin Luther King was assassinated—forced them out yet again, this time to San Francisco.
Here he established himself in business, became involved with other Filipino-American leaders in campaigning for candidates in city elections, and was eventually given a lofty appointment to the Public Utilities Commission, an office with $36 billion in assets and a $500-million annual budget.
Not just a dream
With enough influence in his hands, Normandy introduced the San Francisco-Manila Sister Cities initiative, which has brought every San Francisco mayor to Manila since Dianne Feinstein. This was part of a move to erase the usual stereotypes held by Americans about Filipinos.
Under the right circumstances, given the right path, there is nothing that Filipino-Americans cannot do in San Francisco. The revival of a relevant and powerful political action group is not as far-fetched anymore as it used to be.
“The past has been good to us,” Normandy said. “The future will be even better.” Now that’s not a dream; it’s a statement.
(This article is part of a series of stories on Filipino-American issues being done by the writer under the Yuchengco Program for Young Fellows in the Media at the University of San Francisco’s Center for the Pacific.)