I was about to leave when the Filipino Communist and Anna Dozier came to our apartment.
"You can’t establish a separate Filipino unit of the Party," she said. "Why, it is a divisionist tactic!"
"It is complete disobedience of the Party’s rules," the Filipino said. "Every action regarding the Party must come from me."
"But I’m not a member," I countered.
Anna was hesitant. Then she said, “Nevertheless.”
"The Party is a democratic organization," the Filipino said. "I didn’t say it was undemocratic," I answered. "And if it’s communism our countrymen want, let them have it. I think that is democracy."
"You talk like an intellectual," Anna said.
"You know well enough that I have washed dishes for a living," I said. "You know well enough that I have never made any pretensions to intellectualism."
"I don’t trust him," the Filipino said to Anna as he turned to leave the apartment.
I was naive. I wanted to be sure that communism was what Filipinos needed. I felt somehow that i needed it too. What was the nemesis of communism? Was it Trotskyism? Whatever it was that seemed relevant to the needs of the Filipinos in California, I knew that I must assimilate it.
I left the north in confusion. I knew that I would battle with myself for a decision. I rode the bus and watched familiar scenes that evoked poetry in me. When was it that I had first seen this broad land?
I trembled with joy passing the familiar scenes. It was where I belonged - here in the color of green, the bitter taste of lemon peels, the yellow of ripe peas; in the pleasure, the beauty, the fragrance.
- Carlos Bulosan
America is in the Heart (1946)