The affluent FilAm community

The FilAm Editorial

Not too long ago, I had a conversation with a Wells Fargo executive who asked me a simple yet loaded question: “What is the Filipino community like?”

With a touch of pride and candor, I replied, “The Filipino community is an affluent community.”

I thought of the fundraising galas held in posh hotels, the elegant Filipiniana gowns costing thousands of dollars, the suburban homes with sprawling lawns and backyard pools, the children enrolled in elite Manhattan schools, the vacations in Italy and Iceland and other fancy destinations, the generous donations to festival journals, and other outward signs of financial comfort.

At the time, I was unaware of the controversy surrounding a concert producer and a string of unpaid loans. Apparently, there was plenty of money circulating within the community — often lent quietly to fellow Filipinos in need. Reasons ranged from medical emergencies to business ventures, including ambitious concert productions.

What’s shocking to me is the story of one who allegedly borrowed large sums — tens of thousands — from some of the community’s wealthiest individuals, only to avoid paying them back. As I reported the story, I found myself stunned by the amounts: $5,000, $15,000, even $45,000, lent in the hope of repayment.

The blame game quickly unfolded. The producer insisted: “I didn’t borrow any money. They were my  investors.” The lenders countered: “No, we gave you loans — and we want our money back.”

Why would anyone hand over $10,000 or more to a business with no clear history of success? The only plausible explanation is that they had the money — and could afford the risk. Lending is always a gamble. You might get your money back, or you might not. Those who gave were either moved by a desire to help a friend or tempted by the promise of returns. Whatever the reason, the money never came back — not after repeated reminders, not after years.

Eventually, the matter went to court. A civil court in Queens recently ordered the producer to pay back $23,000 — a rare victory. Another judgment, this time for $44,000, came with a payment plan of $100 a month.

When I asked the lenders why they parted with so much, I heard a mix of answers: “Naawa ako.” “He’s a good friend.” “I wanted to help him.” “I thought I’d make a little money.” The unwritten truth? They took a chance because there was money to spare.