might need some more editing....

Carlos Bulosan’s perspective of America changes throughout the story of his life. Whether the meaning of America changes, or just the way he looks at it is different, his perspective was definitely modified as he went through his days in America. In each part of his life and every time he encountered something life altering, his view of things became slightly different.

Bulosan’s first perspective of America was formed even before he set foot on the country’s soil. He pictured America as a way to have a better life, a place where he could go to school and learn. When he saw America from the boat he was taking, he saw a promising land, a land where he would make his home, as mentioned on page 99.

To all of the immigrants on board the boat to America from the Philippines, America was a place to start a better life. This was a typical thought that most immigrants—whether they were Filipino, Chinese, or Indian—had. They all thought they could go and do whatever they wanted; they could start their own business and grow wealthy or they could go to school and get a good-paying job to settle down in a nice home with a big household. As for Bulosan, his need for going to America was triggered by some important things that happened in the Philippines that led him to conclude to go to that far off country across the Pacific.

The first event was when he was working for American Mary Strandon in the Philippines. Miss Strandon’s neighbor, who is another American, had a houseboy named Dalmacio (page 69). Dalmacio read to Carlos from a book about Abraham Lincoln, who was a poor boy who grew up in a log cabin and later became president of the United States. This amazed Bulosan. If a poor boy like him could become the president of the US, then maybe he could become somebody great in America, too! Another important thing that led him to go to America was that his family was desperately poor, the father having lost all the land in order to pay for Carlos’ brother Macario’s education. In pages 281 to 282, Bulosan recalled an event when he was a child in which he ran away because then there would be one less mouth to feed in his home. He was finally brought home by a benevolent police chief and all was well again, but this event played an important role in telling how poor he was. He wanted to get away from that poor life and turned his hopes toward his travel to America.

So it is ironic when Bulosan was kicked out of the hotel he had stayed in on only his second day in America. He was also forced to sign a contract to work in an Alaskan fish cannery with harmful lighting and strong ammonia from the machines. Bulosan sadly stated:
“It was the beginning of my life in America, the beginning of a long flight that carried me down the years, fighting desperately to find peace in some corner of life.” (page 101)

That statement was very true, and as Bulosan unfolded his life in
his book, his view of America gradually changed. It changed from hope and faith in America, to disappointment, and possibly fear and hate. Again, like his previous perspective towards the country, the way he looked at it now was also formed by events that he had come across during his harsh life as a Filipino in America.

One event was when Carlos was randomly grabbed from a restaurant by two Caucasian policemen and was taken to a jail cell where a gun was aimed at his head.
“’Where did you come from?’ he asked.
I played dumb, pantomiming that I didn’t speak the language.
‘Are you Filipino?’ He was trying another angle.
‘Yes.’
Crack!
…His right fist landed on my jaw, felling me instantly.” (page 156)

Just because Bulosan was a Filipino, the two policemen had beaten him up. A series of events just like this one happened to Bulosan and many of his other Filipino friends and it led Carlos to eventually hate many Caucasian men. That hate sometimes drove him to steal, chase a white man with a knife, and once he had even though about robbing a bank. Little by little that loathing shrouded his faith in America, and slowly and simultaneously destroyed it, piece by piece.

From the time Carlos started participating in the Filipino workers’ movement and on, his perspective changed again, although it was a slow process and he got confused sometimes. White men still tortured him and the others, this time because he and his companions were Filipino and that they also participated in the Filipino rebellion. Yet, he didn’t have so much hate in him as before. Especially when the rebellion was getting to be stronger—thanks to his part in talking to the farm workers and his writing in the paper—he started to become optimistic about things and thought he had a chance in America once the Filipinos were finally heard.

Carlos also fell in love with a few white women, though all the relationships were fleeting and one ended with the death of the woman, Marian. The kindness the women showed to him was totally different from how other Caucasian people treated him, and this made him confused.
“I almost cried. What was the matter with this land? Just a moment ago I was being beaten by white men. But here was another white person, a woman, giving me food and a place to rest.” (page 209)

Maybe all the white people in America weren’t as bad as he thought. This made him have a bit more hope that eventually the Caucasians would accept the Filipinos and they would finally be understood.

Although the Filipino movement didn’t achieve the big success the rebels expected due to the outbreak of war, the president did pass a special proclamation stating that Filipinos could join the armed forces to fight. In that way, the Filipinos were able to unite with the other American soldiers to fight the opposing side, though Bulosan himself didn’t go to join the war.
In the end, Carlos realized that he really did love America; it was in his heart and that was where he spent most of his life. In America, he learned to love writing and books, face hardships, and seek love and friendship. That was his final of his three perspectives of America, and he cherished it.
“I glanced out of the window again to look at the broad land I had dreamed so much about, only to discover with astonishment that the American earth was like a huge heart unfolding warmly to receive me. I felt it spreading through my being, warming me with its glowing reality. It came to me that no man—no one at all—could destroy my faith in America again.” (page 326)