Robert ‘Bob’ P. Paulo
Robert “Bob” P. Paulo was born and raised in Juneau to a Filipino father and Tlingit mother. His father Fausto was from Laguinbanua in Kalibo, Aklan, Philippines.
“I’m what you would call ‘Indipino mestizo,’” Paulo said.
Indipino mestizo, or mestizo, is how mixed Filipino and Tlingit people of Paulo’s generation and other older generations identify. Mestizos are the offspring and descendants of Filipino men and Tlingit women who married and settled in Juneau, and across Southeast Alaska, in the early 20th century.
Filipino-Tlingit families established Juneau’s early Filipino community. Mestizo families dealt with racism because of their mixed backgrounds, so they found camaraderie among themselves.
“All of us called ourselves cousins because we were united,” he said.
Paulo says his father left the Philippines because he was set to become a priest but discovered aspects of the church he did not agree with. So around 18 years old, Fausto emigrated from the Philippines to meet his cousins in California, a place he learned he could make money.
Fausto and his cousins were farmers and spent their days picking apples, grapes and peaches. They were migrant workers who traveled and settled wherever they could find work. From California, they made their way to Idaho, where Filipino laborers were brought in following the Chinese Exclusion Act and other racist laws at the turn of the century that caused labor shortages.
The Philippines was a U.S. territory from 1898 to 1946, and Filipinos were considered U.S. nationals, but that didn’t mean U.S. citizens or the government saw them as American or that they were immune to racial discrimination.
“People don’t talk about that in the history book. It was very important to my dad to relay that message to me, of the prejudice and how the Filipinos were treated in America,” Paulo said.
Fausto eventually made it to Seattle, where he learned how to become a chef while he stayed at a hotel with other Filipinos. It was during his time in Seattle that he first heard about jobs in Alaska. Fausto became an Alaskero — the waves of Filipino seasonal cannery workers who came from parts of the West Coast to work in Alaska during the summer — and worked in the canneries in Kodiak.
Fausto came to Juneau in the 1930s and worked in the mine. Paulo says his father often faced discrimination, working in unsafe environments for lower pay.
“Everyone else was getting paid $4; Filipinos were getting paid $2,” he said.
In time, Fausto found work outside of the mine and worked at the Baranof Hotel after they learned Fausto was a skilled chef. He retired from the Baranof, but he also worked at the Juneau airport and other establishments as a cook or chef.
The Filipino laborers who arrived in Alaska and elsewhere on the West Coast in the 1930s were mostly single men. After some time, many of these men would marry non-Filipino women, and in Juneau, these interracial marriages involved Filipino men and Tlingit women. Paulo says he faced discrimination growing up in a Filipino-Tlingit family.
“You’ve got to remember, the Natives didn’t like us because we were so-called ‘effing’ Filipinos. Whites didn’t like us because we were ‘effing’ Filipinos. We got it from all sides,” Paulo said.
In those days, Filipino-Tlingit families banded together and formed a community around the Filipino Community Hall, which at the time was a pool hall.
“They never pushed anybody away at the Filipino hall,” Paulo said.
It was through the hall’s programs that the families stayed connected to their Filipino heritage, putting on events for Rizal Day honoring Philippine national hero Jose Rizal, and they even had a basketball team.
“We participated in the city league. Arctic Knights would beat us because they were much taller. We only averaged 5-foot-10, 5-foot-11. That’s the tallest we were but we were fast. All of us were fast,” Paulo said.
The team played in tournaments across the Southeast, and Paulo says they faced prejudice because of their mixed heritage. Officials would move the team to different brackets, not getting a chance at the gold medal. Though, he says, they’d still win against their opponents.
“We went all over Southeast and never lost,” Paulo said.
The pool hall burned down in the 1960s, and the Filipino and Alaska Native communities worked together to raise funds to get a new building. Paulo says his uncle, Fred Carrillo, used a cigar box to collect cash for the new hall on South Franklin Street. Today, a plaque at the hall commemorates Fred’s efforts.
Over the years, as more Filipinos migrated to Juneau, tensions within the community made Filipino-Tlingit families feel less welcomed at the hall. As Paulo grew older, he became more active within the Tlingit community and became a clan leader. But he says he continues to draw from the two sides of his heritage and finds parallels in spirituality, folklore and the systems within Filipino and Tlingit cultures.
Paulo says he hopes the Filipino community in Juneau remembers its beginnings with Filipino-Tlingit families and his generation, and stories like his father’s, aren’t lost in history.
“You have to be humble and be thankful, and that’s the Filipino way, same as the Tlingit way,” he said.
In October 2023, Paulo donated his old basketball letterman jacket during an event at the Filipino Community Hall, and it is now displayed at the hall along with other sports memorabilia.