As much as possible, I try to steer away from fitting the stereotype of a typical Asian mom. I let my kid pick her sports; I tell her she can be whatever she wants to be as long as she’s happy and it’s not illegal.

She wants to do gymnastics? Fine.

Wanna try out swim squad after graduating from her regular swimming class? Sure. Lemme book that in.

But.

When I found out from a family friend that there was a Tinikling class offered by the Australian-Filipino Community Services (AFCS) every Saturday at this Baptist Church in Doveton, right then and there I decided she was doing it. 100%. Whether she liked it or not.

She didn’t.

Not really, no.

I drove her there every Saturday anyway. Watched her learn the footwork with a stoic look on her face and interact with other Filipino kids with the shy reservation I can only presume she inherited from me.

These Tinikling kids are some of the nicest kids I’ve met. At the get-go, they were all very warm and welcoming to Raven. The teachers, too. It’s definitely the kind of extracurricular environment I want Raven to be in.

But the main reason why I ask Raven to stay is because of the culture. I want her to have an appreciation of her Filipino culture through dance. To grow in such a multicultural country with her roots strong and intact.

She’ll thank me one day.

Maybe.

I hope.

Seeing her perform at Filipino events, hands down, makes me a really proud mama. There’s something about the beat, the dance, the music, and the costume that directly tugs at the core of my Filo heartstrings as I watch my own flesh and blood rhythmically skipping in and out of bamboo poles like her poor ancestors did.

Because while Tinikling is an imitation of the graceful and speedy movements of the tikling birds in the island of Leyte dodging the bamboo traps that the farmers set up on their fields, legend has it that during the Spanish Colonial era, locals who resisted orders or were deemed incompetent in their work were punished by being forced to stand in between two bamboo poles as the Spanish landowners clapped them together to beat their feet. Jumping out of those clapping poles, obviously, was a form of self-preservation.

It is during these events that she sees other Filipino dances and costumes too. Especially the intricate and highly embellished ones worn by the older ladies who keep the Filipino arts alive right here in Australia.

Last weekend, Raven joined in her very first game of pabitin. She loved it! Despite her height, she was able to grab some goodies too so she was definitely a happy camper.

When AFCS announced that there will also be a sari-sari stall for kids at the event, Raven jumped at the opportunity of selling keychains and ordered her materials online that very same night.

She conceptualized everything from the designs to the pricing to the thank you notes with freebie stickers. It was all her and I was blown away by the level of planning and organisation skills that she displayed given that she only had a fortnight to do it.

“Raven, you have a good shop!” one of the kids next stall said. “We only had one customer!”

She pretty much sold most of her products. The whalesharks were her bestseller.

I know I sound biased as, but I don’t care. This kid never ceases to amaze me. I am so proud of her. I really, truly, honest-to-goodness am.

*Raven at 9 years old