Linda came into the office with an anguished look on her face, lamenting that her mother had given her the “cold shoulder.” The reason: Linda hadn’t taken her children to see their lola (grandmother in Filipino) for weeks. Through a wrinkled brow she continued, “my mom thinks I owe her a visit even though we’re trying not to catch COVID. I know she took care of the kids when they were younger, but she makes me feel like my obligation is a string that is never to be broken. I’m grateful to her, but…”
The Filipino American in Session
One of the challenges to the Filipinx American is to reconcile cultural opposites. I remember when I first immigrated to America, I saw a popular Filipina student from my school soften her otherwise deep, bright, red lipstick in the school bus each time we were on our way home. I later realized that she was struggling to bridge the cultural divide, attempting to appear American to the outside world and Filipina inside her home—a daunting task, especially for a young adult who is trying to make her way in the social realm.
It might be easy to assume that a Filipino has assimilated into the American culture once they have learned the language—most are bilingual. However, this bilingualism also creates myriad possibilities for miscommunication, not just in the therapy room but in the Filipino home. While a born-and-raised Filipinx American client may be more comfortable with English, their older relatives may not. Such was the case with Linda’s mother, her grandmother and her uncle. To help Linda in her familial struggles around utang na loob in the therapy room, I had to make space for the conflicted familial energy that came with the linguistic and cultural divide separating the generations.
The Linearity of the English Language
To help Linda set boundaries with her mother and other family members, it was important for me to further explore the concept of utang na loob with her. As a debt, utang is typically a quantifiable exchange, such as a defined amount of money that both parties agree upon. In contrast, although it is inextricably linked to external exchange, or debt, loob describes the inner workings of the Filipinx psyche, an unquantifiable. The phrase lakas ng loob roughly translates as “persistence on the inside.” But the word “inside” gets lost in translation. Sensing (pakiramdam in Filipino) is a core value rarely explored in Filipino American psychology. Pakiramdam is to sense someone beyond their verbal assertion and articulation.
The history of the Philippines is complex. It ancestral roots were embedded in the rites of animism prior to colonization by the Spaniards. I believe that a history of oppression teaches the colonized to communicate implicitly with each other to maintain freedom of expression and to avoid imprisonment, both literal and emotional. Jose Rizal, the national hero of the Philippines spoke in codes through his literary manuscripts because it was safer to do so during its colonialization by Spain. Executed at 35 by firing squad, his work is studied to date by students who learn to decode his writings for their true underlying meanings. Speaking in code was a functional way to adapt to psychological threats, real and perceived. But it’s also a way to speak when people are in closer proximity. Despite Filipinxs’ bilingualism, concepts that aim to be translatable into English—in this case, utang na loob—can, and very often do, lose their meaning.
Lost in Translation
A debt can be paid with a simple, explicit transaction, often, at least from a Western perspective, by a transfer of money. While utang literally translates to “debt” in Filipino, the word used in the native language rarely means “to pay” but to tanaw. Tanaw in Filipino means “to glimpse back on, to look back and not forget.” Regarding the immigrant who leaves the motherland in search of greener pastures, the young Filipinx American often carries a sense of obligation or burden to repay favors done for them by their elders. And because loob is the unquantifiable sense of the otherwise measurable utang, immigrants often bring with them and carry the unsettling feeling of not knowing the extent of the debt—how much and how long they need to pay for it, or what the repayment was—when they didn’t ask for or agree to the loan in the first place. They are simply expected to remember that they are in debt, and despite their gratitude and wish to honor their parents, struggle with the indeterminate nature of that debt.
This can be a deeply unsettling experience for the immigrant or Filipinx American who views this material—and sometimes immaterial and unmeasurable—tabulation as superficial. However, it’s important to remember what the material transaction represents. It allows the immigrant to satisfy their emotional needs (the sense of honoring the debt to the parent) and to feel like a hero in the parent’s eyes. When, on the other hand, the parent, who is still holding tightly to the rope feels forgotten or their generosity or sacrifice diminished, they often become sour, passively resentful, and pull out a lengthy list of all they’ve done for their child who is now successful in their new life and the new world because of what they provided. In turn, the now-grown child feels confused and attacked.
The Shadow Side of Utang Na Loob
I’ve found that there are many reasons for the giving of favors. While kagandahang-loob (a Filipino core value of inner goodness shared with others) stands out, it is not always the case that favors are altruistic. I have seen generosity through giving favors used as emotional and financial investment (“You owe me money or gratitude for what I have given you or sacrificed for you”), a means of controlling the recipient, and as an ensnaring that keeps someone close at all costs. When the recipient of a favor is perceived by the giver (usually a parent or other close relative) as being successful in navigating the American culture by virtue of a stable job or possessions, including home ownership, that “giver” may expect something in return, either materially/financially or emotionally, such as in dependence or a never-ending thanks and the return of favors or satisfaction of demands or expectations.
In Linda’s case, any “sensed” or “felt” lack of appreciation by her mother was experienced as resentment, typically passive in nature. In all likelihood, Linda’s mother felt forgotten when COVID separated her from her child and grandchildren. For the mother, Linda’s disconnection (actually because of COVID) was felt as a personal rejection, and she reacted with resentment toward her daughter for a lack of gratitude. Verbally appreciating her mother and telling her how much her help meant went a long way in bridging the gap that had developed between Linda and her mother. Repetition of and consistency in communicating her appreciation became that much more important in shoring the rift. In a culture where politeness and kindness towards the debt holder supersede directness and self-assertion, repetition is critical and interpreted as sincerity.
It’s possible that despite her consistency and expression of affection, Linda and her mother had become trapped in a negative emotional cycle from which it became difficult to escape. At the point when Linda came to see me, I believed that it was important to give her a gentle nudge in the direction of exploring the setting of healthy boundaries while discussing utang na loob with her.
Final Thoughts
The concept and evocation of utang na loob has evolved over time; however, Filipinos may continue to use it in attempt to reel someone in or collect an explicit or implicit material or emotional debt in the name of a cultural or familial norm. However, from the depths of its ancestral roots and its connection to the culturally derived, deep unspoken sensing of “the other” (pakiramdam), it has also served the purpose of helping to maintain the integrity and survival of the Filipinx cultural ecosystem across the diaspora. In the process, this deeply-rooted belief and practice, despite the familial tension it can engender (as it did in Linda’s case), also encourages the child to give without concern about exchange or debt—with the faith that doing so will be remembered in one form or another today or into the future, keeping family members connected.
Author Note: Articulating the nuances of utang na loob for a clinical audience has been a feat. I tried to provide service to my fellow-practitioners/healers but am also mindful that my description of this dynamic concept continues to breathe and change with and for each Filipinx American client and their family.
Roanne de Guia-Samuels, LMFT, is a licensed Marriage Family Therapist in California who specializes in the holistic care of self-identified Filipinx. She has frequented at least 500 Filipinx households providing community social services and counseling. She is the author of the Ebook: 5 Pinoy Love Languages & creator of the presentation entitled: Filipinx Core Values & Considerations in Culturally-Responsive Care presented to various organizations including the UC Davis Center for Reducing Health Disparities Team. Roanne was the lead clinician for Solano County's Filipinx Outreach Project for 5 years. Today she is a psychotherapist in private practice & the blogger creator of kalamansijuice.com. She has been featured in the Filipinx American Woman Podcast, at Apple, Inc., in UC Davis Bulosan Center, and NPR. When she's not in session, Roanne enjoys belly laughing with her children and jumping on the trampoline.