Frank Irigon: ‘Makibaka Huwag Matakot’ (Dare to Struggle, Dare to Win)
Francisco “Frank” Irigon, a powerful activist and fighter for the local Asian American community, passed away on Sept. 12 at the age of 77. He’s being celebrated at the University of Washington (UW) on Oct. 22. The South Seattle Emerald teamed up with his wife, Felicita, and his family and friends to create this tribute to Frank Irigon, the heart and fire of the local Asian American activist community.
Activist and organizer Cindy Domingo reflected on the phrase Irigon always greeted her with: “Makibaka Huwag Matakot” (“Dare to Struggle, Dare to Win”). She said, “It was a greeting … Frankie only used with other Filipinos. If they didn’t know the slogan’s background, Frankie would explain that this slogan became popular during the [1970s and 1980s] struggle to overthrow the Philippine dictatorship of Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos. … ‘Makibaka Huwag Matakot’ really reflected Frankie’s ideology and lifetime activist work. Frankie was never afraid to enter into a just struggle, because only then could we possibly win.”
Domingo served as the national chair with the Committee for Justice for Domingo and Viernes, whose campaign proved the Marcos regime ordered the 1981 assassination, with U.S. government knowledge, of Seattle ILWU Local 37 organizers Silme Domingo (Cindy’s brother) and Gene Viernes. Frank’s friendship with Silme had grown to a family-ship love for the Domingo family.
Organizing Students of Color at the University of Washington
Frank Irigon was born in the Philippines in 1947. His father served in the U.S. Army, and his family moved to Tacoma in 1960. After high school, Irigon served in the U.S. Army in Germany before attending school at Tacoma Community College, Seattle Central Community College, and then the University of Washington to study history and, later, receive a master’s in social work.
Irigon spent a lot of time in the Samuel E. Kelly Ethnic Cultural Center on the University of Washington campus with other students of color. In a 2022 interview with the Office of Minority Affairs & Diversity (OMA&D), Irigon said, “We wanted monies for Asian week, Black week, Chicano week. We couldn’t get it from the University of Washington, and we were so disappointed. … [The] president of [The Associated Students of the University of Washington] said, ‘You know, if you guys want anything done, [you’re] going to have to run for office.’ And that’s what we did.”
Jim Cantú, a local KBCS radio DJ and poet who works with El Centro de la Raza, met Irigon at UW in the Ethnic Cultural Center. “Students from the Asian Student Coalition, the Black Student Union, MEChA [Movimiento Estudiantil Chicano de Aztlán], and the Native American Student Alliance stood united and won a majority of the seats in student government,” Cantú said. The students of color organized to vote for each other, and their candidates won. Cantú assumed the chair of the finance committee that voted on and approved funding for the student government-sponsored activities. Ike Alexander, who won another vice president slot, reflected on the powerful dynamic of this series of wins. “With Frankie’s insight, commitment, knowledge, we were able to make some monumental and structural changes at the UW and within the ASUW in their commitment and ongoing support to and for the minority students’ organizations on campus.”
While at UW, Irigon and some friends, including Al Sugiyama and Diane Yen-Mei Wong, organized a regular newspaper, Asian Family Affair, highlighting community stories from the Asian American community from 1972 until it folded in 1985.
Activist and organizer Sharon Maeda was a UW student adviser at the time who supported and consulted students like Irigon, Cantú, and many others. She describes how Irigon was many things to many people. “Frank was one-of-a-kind as a UW student. In the early 1970s, like many students, he protested the war in Vietnam, but he also was a member of the campus Reserve Officers’ Training Corps. He was an angry activist for justice, but he also ran for student body office at a time when most activists felt that participation in any electoral process was bowing to the whims of The Establishment. He was part of a group of macho men of color leading campus racial justice movements, but he married … a strong fellow student and carried his infant son around on campus.”
According to Irigon’s wife, Felicita, whom he met at UW, Frank loved his mentors, like Maeda; educator and poet Larry Matsuda; and activist, journalist, and historian Doug Chin. They all became like family. Chin helped Irigon land a job at the Washington State Department of Social and Health Services at the “Asian desk.” Chin said they worked together and investigated programs, service delivery, employment, and discrimination pertaining to Asian Americans.
Chin describes what Irigon accomplished: “[H]is sustained advocacy played a major role in getting local government to acknowledge the Chinatown-International District [CID] and the Asian American community in their plans and legislation much more over the years than before, when they largely neglected us. … He spoke up for Asian Americans when no one else did. And his advocacy helped result in many projects, plans and programs that bettered the C-ID and Asian American community, [in] such areas as decent and affordable housing, health services, food programs, public safety, social services, etc.”
Protesting the Kingdome Ignited Change for the Chinatown-International District
As an example, Frank Irigon is known for instigating the protest against the Kingdome. In this campaign, Irigon and a crowd of students, friends and organizers demanded that King County mitigate the impacts of a hundred years of racial exploitation and neglect of the elders and families who live in and serve the CID. He demanded for the county to invest in the neighborhood’s health care, to which the community had little access; housing, which there wasn’t enough of or was under threat to be condemned; and other issues.
According to Chin, the seven demands were:
1. Award CID businesses service and concession contracts at the stadium.
2. Rewrite stadium specs to require 40 apprenticeship and 40 journeyman positions go to Asian Americans.
3. Build and furnish 1,000 low-income housing units in the CID.
4. Establish a “user’s tax” on all stadium activities that would be used to fund community projects in the CID to minimize stadium impacts.
5. Establish a multi-service center for senior citizens in the CID.
6. Establish a health clinic in the CID.
7. Retain a full-time consultant for the stadium impacts.
The dynamic and organized campaign brought results to the community. Chin explains, “Some of the outcomes from these demands were realized but not solely by King County. The City of Seattle as well as the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development [HUD] and the State of Washington contributed to meeting many of these demands: King County funded the start of the International District Community Health Center [IDHC, now International Community Health Services (ICHS)], made an effort to solicit C-ID and other Asian American businesses to establish concession stands at the stadium and got the Kingdome contractor to hire some Asian Americans in the construction of the stadium. The City of Seattle, Seattle Housing Authority, and HUD developed hundreds of units of senior and low-income housing. And the City of Seattle, the State of Washington, and several charities funded several food and social services agencies in the C-ID.”
Other beneficial projects for the community began to take shape in the CID not directly related to the seven demands to the County, but as a result of the protest and this young community’s ability to follow through when they demanded and received funds. An example is the establishment of the parking lot under the I-5 freeway along Jackson Street, with proceeds from parking fees going to community services.
Irigon was vital in securing funds for the IDHC, a health service center established in the neighborhood for low-income Asian immigrants who needed services in language. According to the ICHS website, IDHC “was inspired by and worked in solidarity with Seattle’s Black civil rights leaders,” and was modeled after the then Sidney Miller Free Medical Clinic (later the Carolyn Downs Family Medical Center), established by Seattle’s Black Panther Party. Today, International Community Health Services has eight locations throughout King County and mobile medical and dental services.
One of Irigon’s superpowers was forcefully communicating the injustice of the establishment’s perspective and the urgency of needs for low-income Asian communities in our region. Bob Santos, the late activist and organizer who headed InterIm Community Development Association, recorded in his book, Hum Bows, Not Hot Dogs, “Frankie was like a pit bull, an outspoken advocate for equality, in employment, education and housing. At demonstrations, he was the one with the bullhorn leading chants. He was also a very funny guy with a great sense of humor.”
Maeda said, “Frankie always ended contentious meetings [or] protests against UW administration or local officials the same way. When leaving the confrontation, Frankie would always end with, ‘No hard feelings.’ That sums it up: a passionate advocate for the community, but never forgetting that the opposition were people too.”
Connie So, Irigon’s friend, Organization of Chinese Americans (OCA) Greater Seattle Area Chapter Board President, and University of Washington professor in the Department of Ethnic Studies, illustrates Irigon’s approach to the need to be direct in struggle: “... during a particularly troubled time in my career, friends had encouraged me to meet Frank, a man I admired but did not know. Frank listened to my story, then shared his experience and mused about the friends and non-friends he made over the years. Then he told me, in a Godfather-like voice, ‘It’s not personal. Just business.’ In other words, I should do what is best for the students and community and forget those I may offend when I must oppose [them].” (From the OCA webpage honoring Frank Irigon.)
Frank with the Family
On the homefront, Frank Irigon was married to Felicita for 52 years and was father to three children, Jean-Mario, Paix, and Theressa.
Felicita Irigon talked about how much her husband worked for the community.
“He was working so hard, [and] away [from his family] for his job that we miss him sometimes … he’s at a meeting, sometimes four times a week … sometimes on weekends … he’s very committed to the community, and he devoted most of his time [to it].” She said as busy as Irigon was in the community, he was always there alongside the family for the Filipino Youth Activities Drill Team practices every Saturday. The family was recruited by Dorothy and Fred Cordova, and the team was later led by Ron and Lynnette Consego. This team provided an enriching community for the family. The family also prioritized one-week or two-week trips to California as a family. Felicita Irigon said the family looked forward to these times when they knew Dad would be there.
Daughter Theressa reflected on memories with her father. “I … remember going to some demonstrations or marches, being on his shoulders as a little girl, just being part of the community and ensuring that we were protecting … especially our elderly within the CID just showing them the respect … a big thing is just exposure … to different experiences, and … sharing it with him.”
Irigon’s eldest son, Jean-Mario, shares the influence his father had on him. “I remember one particular time we were invited to an event celebrating a Cambodian holiday. As a young adolescent, I must’ve looked bored and after muttering something to the extent of, ‘When can we go?’ under my breath, for the first time that I can remember, Dad rebuked me sharply. ‘These are people that have experienced a genocide and been through a horror that we cannot imagine. We will sit down and show them the respect that they deserve.’ [This is] verbatim. That moment exemplified the kind of person he was — always there for his community. It was then that my paradigm to think of others and be more open was reawakened.”
Frank Irigon was a beloved husband, father, grandfather, friend, master community organizer, strategist, grant writer (multiple friends and family said he reviewed and wrote grants while in the hospital), and consultant for the community. Irigon served as executive director at ICHS and has consulted with many groups about starting their own organizations. He received the University of Washington Charles E. Odegaard Award, the King County Council MLK Medal of Distinguished Service, the International Examiner Community Voice Award, the Seattle JACL Award, and the FYA (Filipino Youth Activities) award.
Diane Wong, an activist and former director of the Washington State Commission on Asian Pacific American Affairs, describes Irigon’s tenderness in saying goodbye to his friends and family. “He and I recently ended up at a hospital at the same time to see an old friend with whom we had worked on social justice issues and who was now dying. Frankie, known for fearlessly and vociferously forging ahead at protests and rallies, was reluctant to enter our friend’s hospital room. As I quietly talked with Frankie about why he wouldn’t enter the room, it became clear that it was not a matter of courage. No. It was having to say farewell to a fellow warrior of the streets and campuses. I gave Frankie a hug and encouraged him to go in to say goodbye because our friend would need to know that Frankie could, and would, continue the fight for social justice even though they would no longer be marching together. Now, with Frankie’s passing, we have one less friend and compatriot at our side.”
A celebration of life for Frank Irigon will be held at University of Washington on Oct. 22.
Editors’ Note: Many of the quotes collected for this piece were in written form and appear unedited, as they were written. Some grammatical inconsistencies noted in this piece may be due to that decision.
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