In this installment of Groundwork’s equity interview series, we honor “Asian American, Native Hawaiian, and Pacific Islander Heritage Month,” in a conversation with Rico Cruz (above). Rico immigrated to the United States from the Philippine Islands when he was seven years old and today is a special education instructor with Benzie County schools. He also offers drivers license tests in Traverse City. Read other equity series articles here.—Jeff Smith

I am here in the United States because back in the early 1970s there was a big shortage of nurses in the U.S., so our nation’s government went to the Philippines to recruit nurses. The Philippine education system is based on the U.S. system, including all of the medical schools. Plus all of the Filipinos spoke English. 

So my mom was one of those nurses. She came over in like 1970. She came over by herself with a bunch of other nurses and started in a hospital in Philadelphia. At the time she was a mother of five children and married. 

She worked in Philly for about a year, and then moved to Detroit. Then after maybe two years she sent for my dad and the three middle kids. My sister and I stayed in the Philippines with my mom’s side of the family—Grandma and aunts. We were out in the provinces about three hours from Manila. I was about six then.

Then in November 1972, my oldest sister and I flew to Hawaii. We were greeted by hula dancers and they gave us leis. I was dazzled by the girls. I have a very vivid memory. Then we flew to San Francisco and I saw the Golden Gate Bridge out the window and thought it was the coolest thing in the world.

We met our family in Detroit and I grew up there. We lived on West Grand Boulevard, right by the hospital where my mom worked. Right by the Motown museum. When I was in 8th grade we moved to Southfield, where I lived until I graduated.

In Detroit, I grew up with a whole mix of nationalities. We all played together–Irish, Italian, Blacks, Armenians, normal white kids. I never felt racism growing up. If we wanted to play with someone, we’d just go to their door and yell their name into the house. It didn’t matter who it was.

As far as the racism conversation, as far as feeling different, I felt that more as I got older, like in high school in Southfield, and college. And especially as an adult when I moved to Traverse City in the late 1980s. There was hardly any color in TC back then. The only color was migrant workers. I remember going into a barber shop in Suttons Bay and the barber just asked me which migrant camp I was with. And I remember thinking, Man, the people up here don’t know anything about race. I explained I was in college and doing an internship at a resort.

There were especially very few Asian people here. I remember I played softball with a guy who had married a woman from Hawaii, and she was the first Pacific Islander I’d ever met here. There was also a Chinese restaurant near where Meijer is now, and I remember thinking they were the only Asians I’d seen.

When I met my wife, she’s white, … the looks we used to get here—an Asian guy and a white girl. A lot of stares. But we chose to stay here. The first time I laid eyes on Grand Traverse Bay I said that’s where I want to live. I fell in love with the beauty and I figured I could tolerate anything if I could live around this nature.

And as we had two girls and they started school at Glen Lake schools, we made a lot of friends with the parents. 

My kids started there in kindergarten, and from what I could tell were never treated any differently. But later, when they were older, I came across some of the writing they did in like 8th grade in which they talked about how they feel different and uncomfortable sometimes. But they also embraced their heritage.

Our daughter Lena—her full first name is Magdelana—wrote that when she was younger she felt her name was different than everybody else’s and she would dread having a substitute teacher because the sub would read everyone’s full first name, and she would feel different. But now that she was a bit older, being different was something she was proud of.

Back when Covid hit, when Trump was president the first time, and he was blaming Covid on Asian people, I admit I was afraid for my family because we were being blamed for Covid. The racism that has come with the current president makes me very uncomfortable. But being a teacher in Benzie County, I can use being nonwhite to an advantage. I can teach my students there are other people in the world than what you see in Benzie. It’s very white here.

My advice to people is that old adage: Don’t judge a book by its cover. Don’t judge a person by the way they look. Treat them the way you want to be treated. That’s my golden rule. Also, go out and see the world. See how others live, and you will no longer be racist just because someone is different.