by Emil Guillermo
For a guy like me, who loved to play golf with my pals during my days in Hawaii, the topper for Father’s Day weekend was seeing J.J. Spaun sink that giant-sized 64-foot, 5-inch putt to win the U.S. Open – a tournament Donald Trump couldn’t even dream of competing in.
Fans yelled “USA, USA, USA,” as the slightly pudgy (but all muscle, yeah) 5-foot-8-inch, slightly bearded Spaun hugged his caddy and shed a tear.
An American? No doubt. LA raised, father European, with a mother who is Mexican and Filipino.
You can’t get more American than J.J. Spaun winning the U.S. Open.
America needed to see that after a week when the Trump administration forgot what it means to be an American.
Trump’s draconian ICE raids on workplaces spawned protests in LA that made the president federalize the National Guard without consulting California’s governor.
Then he brought in 700 Marines in violation of the Posse Comitatus Act.
Then he held a birthday parade to honor the Army and his own might. Sound like Marcos Lite?
On my screen, Trump stood watching his military toys on parade in DC.
Behind him on his left was his co-conspirator in the Florida documents case, his closest Asian American ally from Guam, Walt Nauta.
The retired Navy valet turned Trump body man could have been every Filipino Asian American Trump supporter. His loyalty to Trump is greater than his loyalty to our nation.
Made me wonder what if that case had gone to trial? With the election win, the case conveniently went away for Trump and Nauta.
Now, Trump has used his power to shape an America to his liking. He’s monetized the presidency so America works well for him. Just not all that well for so many Americans.
That’s why No Kings Day last weekend rang true for all those who love democracy but hate the creeping authoritarianism in America under Trump.
In a hopeful sign, there were millions of people who assembled in cities large and small from coast to coast. They were people who care about basic American values like free speech and non-violent protest.
That’s was the real show that weekend, that American democracy is still intact and going strong.
The No Kings patriots of June 14, Flag Day, sent the world a message.
Now, if only we had a suitable leader who doesn’t see his military as pawns.
It was the Army’s 250th birthday, important, sure, but a marching/tank show like the kind they do in North Korea, China, and Russia? For Trump, it was a different kind of “Me TOO” moment.
The world’s leading democracy is supposed to be above all that. This style of parade is only for those who like to play with toy tanks and marching Boy Barbies, GI Joes.
Maybe Trump wanted it for his 79th birthday to test all those he’s forced to genuflect at the mere mention of his name.
Hard to tell if the “birthday parade/show of force” was intended to send a chill among protestors here, or to show the world that Trump is a man with a big, big military.
It’s all about inducing fear to get what you want.
Ugly Murderous Politics
On Saturday, June 14, began shockingly with the assassination of the Speaker of the Minnesota legislature and her husband, and the near-fatal shooting of another state legislator and his spouse.
The suspect got away initially, but left a manifesto that led police to say the shootings were politically motivated. It was an assassination on a local level.
But this is America now, where public discourse has degenerated into power plays ending with deadly shows of force, not logic or consensus.
And who has poisoned the politics so much that suspects like the one in Minnesota feel enabled?
The Minnesota deaths were a reminder of how America has changed in the Trump era. When the president does unlawful things and makes prosecutors come after him in a court of law, he serves as a model for public lawlessness.
By late June 15, the violence of Saturday came back to bookend the weekend.
Arthur Folasa Ah Loo, 39, also known as “Afa,” was named as the protester who was shot at a No Kings protest in Salt Lake.
Loo, a Samoan who appeared in season 17 of “Project Runway” as a fashion designer, was allegedly shot by Arturo Roberto Gamboa, 24, who was seen by a witness as acting as a “peacekeeping” volunteer.
Gamboa, arrested on suspicion of murder, was at the protest with an AR-15.
This is the kind of mentality you get in America when Jan. 6 insurrectionists are convicted, only to be pardoned by Trump for their “act of love.” What message does that send to the public?
How can Trump not feel some responsibility for Loo’s death?
And if you think the domestic picture is rocky, the global picture is also worse than ever. The war in Ukraine started by Trump’s Russian friends has not ended on day one.
The global trade war that Trump started with his beloved tariffs continues. And now Israel and Iran are fighting a new forever war. And Trump wants to broker the peace?
Remember: Trump’s the one who pulled the U.S. out of the Iran nuclear deal years ago because he saw it as Obama’s deal.
Now, if he negotiates, he’ll be glad to get the deal he walked away from. Meanwhile, allies are left questioning where America stands on anything.
The woes of a master deal maker who is not a master deal maker. If I were Trump, I’d listen hard to the message of the No Kings protestors.
Trump’s Birthday, My Dad’s Death Day
But for me, the great coincidence of June 14th is how it’s also the day my father died, 47 years ago, just before Father’s Day.
Willie Guillermo’s story is as American Filipino as it gets, the story of the first big group of Filipinos to the U.S. in the 1920s, the so-called “manongs.”
I turned the essay I first wrote, and read when I was the host of “All Things Considered” in 1989. Here is the 2025 version as a poem.
My Father’s Day by Emil Guillermo ©2025 all rights reserved.
The historical black and white picture / shows a Filipino man / holding a box of vegetables and fruit. / The Box, has a label depicting the fields, / with a name draped over it all / proclaiming RIPON, / a town in the Central Valley. / That was not my father. / Another Filipino. / But you know what they say.
My dad—from Laoag— was / Born under the American flag, / in a colonized Philippines. / The first colony of the imperial U.S. / My dad was not / A citizen, but still an American. / Legally undocumented. / A “national” they called him, / A euphemism indicating he was / Owned by the U.S. / like a slave but no chains, chains were in his head. / He must have come from the depths if / America was his best option / During the depression, 1928. / One of 30,000 Filipinos, a / Man to woman ratio of 14-1. / It was a labor force, not a family force. / If things were normal, / maybe he would have started a family in a year / Or two. 1930? / But then I’d be 95 right now. / Not pretty. Not normal. / Anti-miscegenation laws prevented / Intermarriage. / Taking white jobs was bad enough. / But not white women. / Others went to the valley to work / But not dad / Who stayed in San Francisco to cook, / lived with other Filipino men 6,7,8 to a room. / America was still better than the Philippines. / That’s even if Filipino men dancing with white women / Caused / Riots in Stockton, / Lynchings in Lodi / A shooting death in Watsonville. / Got so bad, Filipinos were asked to self-deport. / Some went back. / The majority stuck it out here.
After nearly 30 years, my father met a rare Filipina, / and I was born. / We never talked much, dad and I. / I was too American. / He was too Filipino. / I went to the Pop Warner banquet by myself. / I was MVP. Running back. / Just not an MVP son.
It was only when I went east to college that / I learned the history. / After graduation, my father and I went / To see the Giants play. / He took me once to see Willie Mays. / Now Vida Blue made us cheer.
The Giants won, / And we went home / with pennant fever. / “They will go all the way now,” Dad said. / But they didn’t. And he didn’t.
Hours after the game, he passed. / A happy day in an imperfect life.
He died on Flag Day June 14. / If he were alive today, he’d think that big parade / In Washington, DC was for him. / Maybe it was. / My Dad, once a colonized Filipino, / so proud to be an American, / Of course, an American in its purest form:
freedom, equality, / and no kings.
That memory always makes Father’s Day a happy occasion for me.
This year, we take the bitter with the sweet. J.J. Spaun’s win assured it was a victory day for diversity. Ah Loo’s death reminds us not to let up on the fight for social justice.
EMIL GUILLERMO is a journalist, commentator, humorist, and poet laureate in California’s Central Valley. He’s written a weekly column on Asian America since 1995. See Emil read his poem on his micro-talk show on YouTube.
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