Responsibility

**Disclaimer - I am not a Mambabatok or an apprentice. This piece speaks to the current journey I am on as a filipina whose grandma was a part of the diaspora on December 1960.**

If you want to learn more about Mambabatok and batok, click here: www.lanewilcken.com

Tattoo today is done through tattoo machines that deposit ink into your skin. You choose the art piece, or have it drawn out, stenciled then placed on your body. Through ancestral tattooing there is a 'way' that is honored and there is no choosing the piece that will be adorned onto your body. The ink is drawn onto your skin and hand-tapped to deposit the ink. For now, I have both. I was naive when I was younger and disrespected my ancestral ways by adorning my body with art not of my lineage, so I wanted to rectify this by choosing my ancestry. I did this by starting a conversation with my grandma to learn more about our family's heritage and lineage. I wanted to fix what I did and in doing so restoring my respect and honor for my Ilocano lineage.

Receiving batok wasn’t about adorning an art piece on my body. It went deeper than that. It was about respecting and honoring my ancestors. Recognizing their struggles and sacrifices. It was about learning my mother tongue, my heritage and accepting the path, which was carved out for me before birth. Batok is a journey for me. A journey to shine the light on the history that has marked my people for decades and how Ilocano’s quietly went on with their lives without a nod to the past. We have a saying, “It’s in the past, there is no reason to talk about it” or something along those lines, but there is pain there. You can hear and see the pain when this is spoken. I had seen it when my grandma used to say it every time, I would ask about their childhood.

After a while, the doors to learning opened up when I was 19 years old. I guess grandma was ready to share their childhood with me. Grandma spent the days I cared for her speaking to me about her childhood and about her mom, my great-grandma. She showed me through carefully woven words the tragedies that our Agnes line endured and the events that have molded our family. She shared how they walked miles to and from school, how the clothes and footwear she owned were made by her dad, my great-grandpa. Grandma beamed with joy when she spoke about her siblings and how she was full of happiness despite the hardships of being a farmer’s daughter.

She spoke of how her dad, my great-grandpa without any formal education was a politician who spent the years before his term in Hawaii as a plantation worker. He worked alongside Japanese plantation workers in the fields. Because of this he was a wanted man when the Japanese took over the Presidency during World War 2. During this time grandma shared that they were apart of the Bataan death marches and how her and her siblings planned their escape.

I learned our ways in healing, cooking and medicine. She taught and I listened. A few months before I had received my first markings, Grandma said, "Anak, you are ready". She didn't need to explain. She didn't have to tell what I was ready for; I just knew.

In Memory of Apo Frene: I remember clearly the year I received the first markings of my ancestors. I brought the gift home to my grandma during a weekday and she had a look of peace marked upon her face as I entered through the front doors seeing her sitting on her couch, I bent over and kissed her cheek. Through her eyes you seen the years of pain, suffering, joy and wisdom wash away. Only to be replaced with a sense of calm. She placed her hands upon my thighs, as if greeting our ancestors and with calm, serene eyes she looked up at me and said now I can rest. It was a few days later, grandpa couldn't stir her from her sleep, and we waited until the day she took her last breath, April 5th, 2017. Grandma was at peace and I began learning the ways of my Ilocano heritage.

Every batok ritual, I experienced the same honorable moment. Moments where I can feel their pain and suffering. Moments where I can feel their joys. Moments where I am comforted. Every batok experience since 2017 is a sacred and heavy. Right before we begin, the Mambabatok and stretchers, everyone present, places their hands on the skin that will be tapped to say a little prayer in silence. I leaned in and allowed my ancestors to speak, it was raw and powerful. During the session I feel each tap, the pain was intense and subtle at the same time. As the first tap hit, I felt my skin break and my spirit rip right open. With the second tap, I felt our ancestors and quickly opened my mind and heart to the wisdom and knowledge that flooded in. Finally, as the third tap came, I felt the vibrations through my bones into the floor and back again. I felt the emotions of our lineage through each tap. With each tap intensifying and soothing me at the same time. I felt my spirit release. I felt the power. I felt the pain. I felt the honor and still my soul and spirit stood still. As if the strength of a thousand carried me through.