Today we’d like to introduce you to Ronna Bañada.
Hi Ronna, thanks for sharing your story with us. To start, maybe you can tell our readers some of your backstory.
I was born in the Philippines and immigrated to the United States with my parents when I was four years old. I am an only child and grew up in a household of adults, which included my Ninang (Filipino for godmother), Tita (Filipino for aunt), and Tito (Filipino for uncle). The six of us settled into a multi-ethnic immigrant neighborhood just a few minutes from Downtown LA. My family taught me the value of service to others and the strength and knowledge that comes from building solidarity with other minoritized communities. I grew up on a street where neighbors felt more like extended family, and summers and holidays were filled with barbecues and potlucks. I went to school just down the street, and after high school graduation, I followed my parents’ wishes to stay close to home and attended college just 15 minutes away from them.
As a freshman, I walked by the university’s School of Social Work building daily, not knowing anything about the profession. After graduation, I became a residential counselor for teens in the child welfare and juvenile justice systems and later as a children’s advocate at a shelter for survivors of domestic violence. Supporting families and young people and helping them access healthcare, education, and other resources ignited my passion for social work.
Then I earned my master’s degree and for the next twelve years, I stepped into roles as a school social worker, community-based mental health clinician, practicum instructor, program manager, and clinical supervisor. I learned from mentors who taught me about a core value in the profession – the importance of building and nurturing relationships. I loved working with families and caregivers and was passionate about mentoring other social workers and therapists as they strove toward their professional goals. This motivated me to create spaces where my clients and colleagues felt like they were seen and heard.
Nearly two decades after finishing my undergrad, I found myself back on campus, pursuing a doctorate degree at that very same school I walked by each day. Now, I’m a 4th-year student and Ph.D. candidate doing research that is deeply influenced by my lived experiences.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall, and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
As a young 1.5-generation immigrant growing up in the 80s and 90s, I was continuously learning about the many unspoken and implicit social rules and norms of life in America from my schoolteachers and friends, many of whom were also children of immigrants. Sometimes, I didn’t quite know where I fit in and often felt like I wasn’t enough. This mindset would later follow me in the form of imposter syndrome when I returned to graduate school. This decision to pivot back to school meant that my partner and our two young children would also experience a huge transition since a lot of my free time would be devoted to school and relearning how to be a student. I started to question my skills and my ability to navigate my personal and academic lives.
There were many times when I felt directionless, but this compelled me to seek connections and belonging within various social circles, which helped me to feel grounded validated and gave me the space to honor my intersecting identities: as a Filipina American, as a daughter growing up in an immigrant family, as a mother, as a woman of color, as a social worker and scholar. I also derived strength from my family, my partner, my children, and friends who continue to show me understanding and love and also remind me to be present and enjoy my time with them. There was community all around me, and I started to feel that I belonged in the newest role that I occupied.
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar, what can you tell them about what you do?
My work is deeply influenced by my lived experiences and by researchers and practitioners who are committed to using their wisdom and scholarship to uplift the stories of their communities. My research examines the mental health experiences of immigrants and diasporic populations, especially those that have been systemically discriminated, underrepresented, under resourced, and invisibilized. I’ve studied Filipino American experiences with social services and mental healthcare during the COVID-19 pandemic and examines the role that ethnic identity plays in the relationship between pandemic-related racial discrimination and depression and anxiety among Asian, Pacific Islander, and Desi-American college students. I explore how undocumented Asian and Pacific Islander young adults communicate about their mental health and seek formal and informal support for their depression and thoughts of suicide.
I want to use the sum of my experiences to make a meaningful contribution to social work research that will inform policy and practice and increase access to funding and resources for community-driven and culturally attuned programs focusing on mental health, health, and education. I am also deeply committed to help build and strengthen relationships and solidarity among social workers, community members, and scholars in similar disciplines. I am a member of collectives of social work practitioners, researchers, educators, and activists who inspire me to approach my work through critical examination and reflection.
How do you think about luck?
Luck doesn’t fully encompass or honor the tremendous support, including the social, emotional, and financial resources, that my collective community has shown and shared with me to be able to pursue the work that I want to do. I wouldn’t be able to do any of it without my partner, my children, my parents, parents-in-law, my extended family, friends, and social work program, mentors, colleagues, and peers who inspire, teach, challenge, and show me the ways to keep going.
