I hated my nationality. Even the mere thought of being a Filipino abhorred me since I was a child. I despised my reflection every time I looked at myself in the mirror. It was as if I hated everything that was associated with my homeland. But as I got older, I freed myself from this grudge against my ethnicity. This led me to unravel the answer to the question: What makes a true Filipino?
I first joined a competition for “Buwan ng Wika” as an elementary student. As usual, we were told to wear barong Tagalog because it was part of the criteria for judging. I didn’t want to but I did for the sake of the contest. My heart was not really into the competition. I did not join to celebrate the Filipino language, uplift the “Laro ng Lahi,” and wear antiquated Filipino national costumes. I only participated because I was offered extra points on my Filipino subject.
As time passed, I became a student writer, but my hate for my ethnicity didn’t change. Strangely enough, I loved writing articles in the Filipino language. Back then, writing has always been my solace. I would write Tagalog poems to express my admiration for someone, make up Tagalog short stories out of my puerile imagination, and join competitions in journalism all in the Filipino category.
I hated everything about being a Filipino, yet ironically, as a child, I was drawn to Filipino literature such as “Si Pagong at si Matching,” the first fable I memorized for a competition. Also, how Original Pilipino Music like Rey Valera’s top hits used to be my lullaby. Additionally, I loved binge-watching Filipino movies on Sundays in Cinema One especially Ishmael Bernal’s films “Himala” and “Nunal sa Tubig.” I would familiarize myself with the dialogues and recreate the scenes imagining I was on set. These are the signs in my childhood that I truly love my Filipino blood, I just couldn’t acknowledge it.
Things started to become serious when I entered my teenage years. I was obsessed with whitening my skin. I would always beg my parents to let me use the whitening products I see on TV. As always, my parents didn’t allow me to. They said that my skin was already as good as it was. Of course, I didn’t believe them. I am one of those Filipinos who think that skin isn’t just skin. We want to look American or Korean with fine glowing skin. We want to be referred to as “kano,” something that has been deeply ingrained in our society since the colonizers came.
It is not only skin color but the preference for imported things and the desire to go overseas. We Filipinos are so addicted to imported products that we forget what we have. The Philippines is home to cacao trees whose beans are used in chocolate production. We have talented embroiderers who can compete internationally. We also have hardworking farmers. Yet, we are considered a consumer and not a producing country. We are not lazy laborers but we are apathetic when it comes to uplifting our own.
After being colonized for 333 years by the Spaniards, occupied for 48 years by the Americans, and ruled for over three years by the Japanese, we continue to live and see the impact of these foreign invaders. In our generation, there are many works left unknown, such as Ambeth Ocampo’s books, Lualhati Bautista’s novels, Carlos Bulosan’s short stories, Igorot’s woven bamboo bags, T’boli’s T’nalak weaving tradition, Samar’s amazing banig, and more. If these works are left buried in the ground and stepped on by the youth, we are like a tree without roots.
We were originally decolonized before being mixed. We were once Negritos (the first inhabitant in the country), we were once using the Baybayin (the first alphabet system), and we were not Dela Cruz, Sanchez, and Jose but were Lakandula, Amihan, and Makisig (pre-colonial names). Today, we are living with our mixed culture and perception that other nationalities are better than us. If we continue to live like this, it is unlikely that we will see a better Philippines in the future.
With that being said, we must love our true identity, uphold our own country, and start to appreciate its culture and tradition. We must remember that we were once called “indio” by the Spaniards, but our national heroes proved them wrong. We are more than that.
It is time for us to reflect. What does a Filipino have? Who are we as Filipinos? For all these years, I was lost in the labyrinth of my true identity, questioning the essence of what it truly means to be Filipino. But we must always remember that love for country makes us Filipinos—the love that will reflect in our kayumanggi and morena skin. Neglecting our ethnicity could indeed be a stain on our dignity. Undeniably, disloyalty to our country will lead us to a nation with no distinct identity.
Reign Kiezher Aboy, 17, is a Grade 11- HUMSS student at Eastern Samar National Comprehensive High School. He is a proud Filipino.