Nationalism

By Antonio G Pineda Jr

AS the country celebrated Independence Day on June 12, I could not help remembering that, until 1982, I did not know what the word nationalism meant. Nor did I care. It was a long, official-sounding word that, for a long time, held no relevance in my life.

Up to now, I have never bothered to consult the dictionary as to the definition of nationalism. It is through learning to come to terms with my identity as a Filipino living in an alien country that I grew to appreciate its meaning.

I came up with my first definition of nationalism when I joined my parents in London in 1981 at the age of 11. For me, nationalism then meant acceptance. I had to accept that I was different from the rest of my school. An important part of my British education was learning that not everyone was brown-skinned who ate rice as part of every meal.