One of the biggest parts of our first three weeks was preparing the artwork and props for our contingent. When going into it, we used the mindset that what we were creating weren’t just signs, but amplifications of the voices that couldn’t be present at the parade. Given that our biggest position was advocating for Filipinos wrongfully detained by ICE, I decided to work on a sign broadcasting the name of a Filipina who had been wrongfully detained and just recently released. I had the honor of reading this particular individual’s story and letters from her cell in detainment. I felt her fear, frustration, and the humanity that narratives regarding immigrants are often deprived of. I painted her name, not in glaring letters or obnoxious fonts, but in a large, multidimensional, and delicate manner. Additionally, I plastered the poster with sampaguitas: the national flower of the Philippines. I wanted to write about her resilience and beauty, and while it was a simple experience, it was also quite an emotional one. However, these art and prop builds also gave me the opportunity of discussing Filipino heritage with those from other schools in the area. This was monumental, as I had always been a bit more hesitant about how my mixed heritage would push me out of spaces. It's happened multiple times, and, while I was thankful and happy that I have such a strong Filipino friend group and cultural epicenter with them at Columbia, I was afraid people would think I was somehow “less Filipino” than them when encountering those I have not met. However, as soon as I got there, those fears were an afterthought. A lot of them had actually been interested in the history of my family. I was surprised, but beyond excited to speak and give details. They didn’t see “percentages” of heritage. Instead, they just saw one of their kababayan. In anticipation of scrutiny, I found a community, and it only makes me more excited to work with them further.