Filipino sailors in front of EJ Ravago’s childhood church (Ravago’s dad top left) circa 1994.
Recently, the town of Lahaina in Maui garnered widespread attention due to the devastating wildfires. What many people don’t know is that of that community, 40 percent of residents are of Filipino descent.
It’s just one example of the broader invisibility of Filipino Americans in American society. Many Americans are unaware that October is Filipino American History Month (FAHM). Despite being the largest Asian group in nine states and the third largest overall, Filipino Americans are often overlooked. The popularity of Filipino celebrities like Manny Pacquiao and Jo Koy has helped to raise awareness of Filipino culture and identity, but there is still a long way to go.
Understandably, the Philippines’ colonial history with Spain and the United States, as well as the racialization of ethnic minorities in America, make identifying Filipinos a complex task. Many Americans are confused by an Asian person with a Spanish last name. Regardless of our misidentification and subsequent invisibility, Filipinos have made and continue to make significant contributions to American society. FAHM is an opportunity to highlight some of these contributions and experiences.
Main Propulsion Division standing for a pose aboard the USS Kinkaid (EJ Ravago’s dad bottom right).
To gain insights into Filipino American history, it’s helpful to delve into the underlying factors that drove Filipinos to settle in specific regions of the United States. One prime example is Hawaii, where Filipinos constitute 25 percent of the state’s total population. While the allure of a similar landscape and climate to the Philippines continues to attract current Filipino immigrants, a pivotal historical chapter occurred between 1906 and 1946. During this period, the Hawaii Sugar Planters Association recruited a staggering 125,000 Filipino laborers to toil in the pineapple and sugarcane plantations, laying the foundation for the vibrant Filipino American presence there today.
In contrast to the tropical allure of Hawaii, the Chicagoland area offers a strikingly different backdrop. While the numbers here may not rival those in Hawaii or California, this region, known for its harsh winters, has become home to many Filipino families. What is the driving force behind this curious migration?
While multiple factors come into play, one specifically stands out: the US Navy. Nestled between Route 41 and Lake Michigan lies Naval Station Great Lakes (NSGL), the largest training center of the US Navy. Filipino families who have chosen to make their homes near military bases like NSGL serve as living evidence of the deep and enduring historical connection between the Philippines and the US Navy.
EJ Ravago’s father reenlisting aboard the USS Kinkaid.
Since the annexation of the Philippines after the Spanish-American War at the beginning of the 20th century, tens of thousands of Filipinos joined the US Navy, serving in every US-related conflict since. Despite the Philippines’ colonization by the United States and the racial discrimination they encountered, many Filipinos joined the U.S. Navy seeking economic stability and citizenship. Even after gaining independence in 1947, Filipinos were allowed to join the Navy from Subic Bay, Philippines, without immigration credentials through a program called the Philippine Enlistment Program. When that ended in 1992, recruitment from the Philippines halted, but the nearly hundred-year relationship between the U.S. and the island nation established a strong bond that is still evident today. Many second and third-generation Filipino Americans continue to join the US Navy, where they hold positions across all ratings and attain representation at every rank.
That was not always the case. Prior to 1971, the Navy relegated Filipinos to a steward rating, a job that limited them to cooking, cleaning, and other menial chores. This policy was discriminatory and unfair, and it prevented many Filipinos from reaching their full potential. Thankfully, it was eventually amended to allow Filipinos to pursue any rating based on their merit and skill, a significant step toward a more inclusive and fair Navy. It paved the way for the many Filipino sailors to advance and serve in ways their forebears never dreamed.
EJ Ravago and his sister at Great Lakes Naval housing circa 1987.
Among these Filipino sailors was Master Chief Emerson Ravago, my dad. He was one of 554 recruits who were recruited out of Subic Bay in 1976, taking his technical skills and training to become a gas turbine mechanic. Throughout his 20-year career, he climbed the enlisted ranks, embodying the Filipino ethos of dedication and excellence.
Another remarkable figure is Chief Luis Ocampo who also completed a full 20 years of honorable service (I was fortunate enough to marry his daughter). He concluded his career by training and graduating classes of sailors as a recruit division commander at the Recruit Training Center in Great Lakes. Both men assumed leadership roles, mentoring and guiding countless men and women in the US Navy.
The end of retirement ceremony for EJ Ravago’s father.
Although broader society may remain unaware of the profound impact and sacrifice made by Filipino sailors, those of us who have waited prayerfully and tearfully for their homecoming know it well. To these valiant sailors, we extend our heartfelt gratitude—we acknowledge your hard work and contributions. Your tireless efforts are woven into the tapestry of American history, and for many of us, your sacrifices form an integral part of our identity. This October as we recognize and celebrate Filipino American History, let us be thankful for the told and untold stories of those who paved the way, whose sacrifices and triumphs have shaped our collective journey.
Following retirement, my father answered a higher calling to pastor a church, carrying his legacy from the ship into the pulpit, where he ministers to the diasporic Filipino community. Inspired by my dad’s journey, I, too, became a pastor, establishing and serving a church in close proximity to where I was born—Naval Station Great Lakes.
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Valiant, Not Invisible: A Celebration of Filipino Americans
Filipino sailors in front of EJ Ravago’s childhood church (Ravago’s dad top left) circa 1994.
Recently, the town of Lahaina in Maui garnered widespread attention due to the devastating wildfires. What many people don’t know is that of that community, 40 percent of residents are of Filipino descent.
It’s just one example of the broader invisibility of Filipino Americans in American society. Many Americans are unaware that October is Filipino American History Month (FAHM). Despite being the largest Asian group in nine states and the third largest overall, Filipino Americans are often overlooked. The popularity of Filipino celebrities like Manny Pacquiao and Jo Koy has helped to raise awareness of Filipino culture and identity, but there is still a long way to go.
Understandably, the Philippines’ colonial history with Spain and the United States, as well as the racialization of ethnic minorities in America, make identifying Filipinos a complex task. Many Americans are confused by an Asian person with a Spanish last name. Regardless of our misidentification and subsequent invisibility, Filipinos have made and continue to make significant contributions to American society. FAHM is an opportunity to highlight some of these contributions and experiences.
Main Propulsion Division standing for a pose aboard the USS Kinkaid (EJ Ravago’s dad bottom right).
To gain insights into Filipino American history, it’s helpful to delve into the underlying factors that drove Filipinos to settle in specific regions of the United States. One prime example is Hawaii, where Filipinos constitute 25 percent of the state’s total population. While the allure of a similar landscape and climate to the Philippines continues to attract current Filipino immigrants, a pivotal historical chapter occurred between 1906 and 1946. During this period, the Hawaii Sugar Planters Association recruited a staggering 125,000 Filipino laborers to toil in the pineapple and sugarcane plantations, laying the foundation for the vibrant Filipino American presence there today.
In contrast to the tropical allure of Hawaii, the Chicagoland area offers a strikingly different backdrop. While the numbers here may not rival those in Hawaii or California, this region, known for its harsh winters, has become home to many Filipino families. What is the driving force behind this curious migration?
While multiple factors come into play, one specifically stands out: the US Navy. Nestled between Route 41 and Lake Michigan lies Naval Station Great Lakes (NSGL), the largest training center of the US Navy. Filipino families who have chosen to make their homes near military bases like NSGL serve as living evidence of the deep and enduring historical connection between the Philippines and the US Navy.
EJ Ravago’s father reenlisting aboard the USS Kinkaid.
Since the annexation of the Philippines after the Spanish-American War at the beginning of the 20th century, tens of thousands of Filipinos joined the US Navy, serving in every US-related conflict since. Despite the Philippines’ colonization by the United States and the racial discrimination they encountered, many Filipinos joined the U.S. Navy seeking economic stability and citizenship. Even after gaining independence in 1947, Filipinos were allowed to join the Navy from Subic Bay, Philippines, without immigration credentials through a program called the Philippine Enlistment Program. When that ended in 1992, recruitment from the Philippines halted, but the nearly hundred-year relationship between the U.S. and the island nation established a strong bond that is still evident today. Many second and third-generation Filipino Americans continue to join the US Navy, where they hold positions across all ratings and attain representation at every rank.
That was not always the case. Prior to 1971, the Navy relegated Filipinos to a steward rating, a job that limited them to cooking, cleaning, and other menial chores. This policy was discriminatory and unfair, and it prevented many Filipinos from reaching their full potential. Thankfully, it was eventually amended to allow Filipinos to pursue any rating based on their merit and skill, a significant step toward a more inclusive and fair Navy. It paved the way for the many Filipino sailors to advance and serve in ways their forebears never dreamed.
EJ Ravago and his sister at Great Lakes Naval housing circa 1987.
Among these Filipino sailors was Master Chief Emerson Ravago, my dad. He was one of 554 recruits who were recruited out of Subic Bay in 1976, taking his technical skills and training to become a gas turbine mechanic. Throughout his 20-year career, he climbed the enlisted ranks, embodying the Filipino ethos of dedication and excellence.
Another remarkable figure is Chief Luis Ocampo who also completed a full 20 years of honorable service (I was fortunate enough to marry his daughter). He concluded his career by training and graduating classes of sailors as a recruit division commander at the Recruit Training Center in Great Lakes. Both men assumed leadership roles, mentoring and guiding countless men and women in the US Navy.
The end of retirement ceremony for EJ Ravago’s father.
Although broader society may remain unaware of the profound impact and sacrifice made by Filipino sailors, those of us who have waited prayerfully and tearfully for their homecoming know it well. To these valiant sailors, we extend our heartfelt gratitude—we acknowledge your hard work and contributions. Your tireless efforts are woven into the tapestry of American history, and for many of us, your sacrifices form an integral part of our identity. This October as we recognize and celebrate Filipino American History, let us be thankful for the told and untold stories of those who paved the way, whose sacrifices and triumphs have shaped our collective journey.
Following retirement, my father answered a higher calling to pastor a church, carrying his legacy from the ship into the pulpit, where he ministers to the diasporic Filipino community. Inspired by my dad’s journey, I, too, became a pastor, establishing and serving a church in close proximity to where I was born—Naval Station Great Lakes.
EJ Ravago
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