Culture is an aspect of our lives which we cannot ignore for the sole reason that it is a major
component of our existence: we experience it every second. Although culture is typically described as
the customs and traditions of a people, we can look deeper into what culture really is, going beyond the
dictionary definition. I have chosen to examine the aspect of cultural identity: a means of labelling
ourselves based on our upbringing; more specifically, I am very interested in delving into the Filipino
identity. As a Filipino myself, I want to develop a more substantial yet fluid understanding of being
Filipino; synthesizing a solid definition of the Filipino identity, but fluid in regards to being more open to
what changes the entity itself.
component of our existence: we experience it every second. Although culture is typically described as
the customs and traditions of a people, we can look deeper into what culture really is, going beyond the
dictionary definition. I have chosen to examine the aspect of cultural identity: a means of labelling
ourselves based on our upbringing; more specifically, I am very interested in delving into the Filipino
identity. As a Filipino myself, I want to develop a more substantial yet fluid understanding of being
Filipino; synthesizing a solid definition of the Filipino identity, but fluid in regards to being more open to
what changes the entity itself.
The Filipino identity is something that cannot be simplified, regardless of the attempts made. To
say that the Filipino identity is “simply being Filipino” or “having Filipino lineage” is failing to understand
that there is always a level of complexity to everything in life. This character exists in absolute intricacy;
the more you learn about it, the more questions are raised and the deeper you will dive. The surface is
the previously mentioned “simplicity;” but the depths consist of the varying aspects of the Philippine
culture: dance, music, mannerisms, and language. There is great difficulty in deciphering the identity
because people fall to different levels of “being Filipino.” It is not as easy as stating “I am ‘x’ percent
Filipino; in fact, there is a sense of diffraction where we are bent in different directions; for example, I
am a highly diffractive individual because I was not particularly raised with the native culture, rather I
became hybridized. I know introductory level Tagalog, but I have limited knowledge of the history; I
understand some of the mannerisms, yet they have never become second-nature behaviors.
Not only have I wondered about my persona while looking back on my upbringing, but
immersing myself into the young adult Filipino community has sparked my interest to really investigate
that which constitutes one’s “Filipino-ness.” In District 3 of the Filipino Intercollegiate Networking
Dialogue (abbreviated as FIND), I observe my peers and they exhibit less diffraction than I do: their
proficiency in their parents’ dialects parallels their understanding of the nation’s history, traditional
dances, and mannerisms. I consider them to be the “perfect” Filipino offspring, the kind of children
every parent wants; they are better-equipped to communicate and connect with their relatives on a level
deeper than I could ever hope to achieve. Students from CMSV and the neighboring schools within
District 3 have already been able to establish ang mga barkada nila, their little cliques with whom they
share a strong sense of Filipino pride. This does not mean that I do not have the same pride, however, it
is not as strong because I find myself constantly wondering “Who am I?”
With my problem in sight, I must begin with the hard-hitting questions: how do I determine what
being Filipino is? Some of these questions I directed towards myself, because there is no better way to
learn than digging for answers from within myself. The first step in accomplishing this mission is
deconstructing the Filipino community’s inner mechanics. I want to know how these social dynamics
play a role in determining someone’s cultural identity despite everyone having the same blood. I want to
demolish the borders that divide us and unify the numbers so we can advance instead of bringing each
other down. The cultural identity needs to be understood because it accounts for the majority of our
behaviors; it is what promotes our individuality.
To provide a more historical and dictionary definition of Filipino, I would like to use Gloria
Anzaldua’s “La Frontera: La conciencia de la mestiza.” Although she is not of Philippine descent, her
work is very pertinent regarding hybridized cultural identities and blurred lines between that which is the
“right” identification and that which is “not right.” Anzaldua writes, “Because I, a mestiza/ continually
walk out of one culture and into another/ because I am in all cultures at the same time… (Anzaldua 99)”
Here, she is saying that the Chicano identity is a marriage of two cultures, in which the Chicano walks
on both sides of the division: there is expression of Mexican culture and there is also expression of
American culture; the Chicano is the product of the two, but does not identify with one side over the
other, leading to a dual identity. In a similar fashion, the Filipino does not consist of just the indigenous
culture; it is the conjunction of East and West: Chinese, Malaysian, and Indonesian influences
intertwined with Spanish, and later American culture. Now, in the case of the Filipino-American, all of
the preceding apply, however, there is more emphasis on the American aspect. Filipino Americans walk
along a dangerous line, smudging the border as a result of our confusion: how are we supposed to label
ourselves without backlash from both parties? Where do we belong as a people? Who are we?
For this particular interest in the Filipino cultural identity, I will use two forms of cultural theory:
psychoanalysis and structuralism. I find these two methods to be very fitting because they permit me to
closely examine the inner workings of those “in power,” how they function in relation to their
counterparts who are not “real” Filipinos, and how these people determine what is considered to be the
Filipino identity.
In Eagleton’s work on the theory of psychoanalysis, he mentions the concept of the pleasure
principle. The principle states that it is inherent in human nature to seek that which gives us pleasure, as
long as it satisfies our biological or psychological needs; this is what drives our instinct, or the id. In the
context of my research on the Filipino cultural identity, those who believe they have the power to point
out the lacking aspects of others do so as a means of fulfilling their psychological need to make other
people feel inferior; in short, these people can be likened to bullies who torment other students as their
method of feeling better about themselves. To put things into perspective, I have experienced what it
means to be the “inferior” party, where I was jokingly ridiculed as someone who was not one hundred
percent Filipino. For instance, a family friend make a slight jest at the fact that I have not been to the
Philippines once in my life time, making me only “eighty-nine percent” Filipino. In college, I have a
distant friend who has labelled me as “barok,” or broken, because I do not speak either of my parents’
dialects in a fluent manner; as a result, she also had the audacity to tell me that I completely recited a
Tagalog prayer incorrectly at a religious function. In these moments, the adult and fellow student put
themselves upon a pedestal which gave them an imaginary position of power. With this powerful
perspective, they made me feel insecure about my identity as a Filipino, imposing their hegemonic
discourse upon me. Another portion of psychoanalysis that appears is displacement, which is the
redirection of aggression from the original source to another person. In terms of my scenario, it is
probable that the student’s parents were not satisfied with her “unfilipino” behavior, thus reprimanding
her; in turn, she transferred those negative feelings towards me. Because of the displacement, those
degrading vibes transitioned into rationalization. In rationalization, the subject begins to accept the
aggressive feelings; for me, I have come to accept the fact that I am a “broken” Filipino-American.
The second method of analysis that can be applied to my research interest is structuralism. As
stated by Gabrielle Loccisano, structuralism is defined as:
the process of searching for binary relationships in order to justify human nature… these binary relationships, disable the need for subcategories as there is only and object and a not object… this relationship is then applied throughout history in order to trace patterns that then validate the process of thinking and actions.
To fit within the context of my project, the binary relationship I would like to examine is
“Filipino” and “not Filipino.” We can slightly modify these connections for the previously cited situations,
thus creating “real Filipino” and “not real Filipino.” The displacement that has occurred synthesized this
division within the cultural entity, thus the hegemonic discourse under which I was placed prevented me
from questioning myself as a Filipino: because of my upbringing and my lacking knowledge of language
and culture, I am not a “real” Filipino. Not only has this entire process happened to me, but I have
heard and seen events where a person who was born in the Philippines tells me how “whitewashed” and
“broken” American-born Filipinos are. As a result of these considerations, she does not show much
enthusiasm at our gatherings, rather she constantly states how she knows and understands more about
Philippine culture than the other kids at the party. She is the type of person who considers herself to be
the closest candidate to “real Filipino” in contrast to the others.
In the process of developing this project, I decided that an ethnographic approach would be the
most fitting; I saw it as a great opportunity to observe and analyze the opinions of my peers. I decided
to interview five of my friends from the College of Mount Saint Vincent who are of Filipino descent,
however there is a twist: some of them are American-born, others are Philippine-born. Isolating these
groups allows me to examine the difference or similarities in opinions based on Filipino identity because
they are bound to have distinct views on certain topics regarding the Filipino social dynamic. In addition,
having these kinds of interviewees allows me to understand the perspectives of my friends and family
when I was growing up as well as the perspectives of other friends in college.
I asked five questions to my friends:
· What is your definition of “Filipino?”
· What do you think it means to be a “real Filipino? Broken? Whitewashed?”
· Were you born in the Philippines or in the United States?
· What kind of Filipino do you consider yourself?
· Do you think basic/extensive knowledge of the culture, language, history, and current
topics makes someone more or less Filipino?
As I went through the interviews, I began to notice a few patterns in the responses I
received. For the first question, not one person gave me a straightforward answer as to what being
Filipino is. The students had to think upon the question for a few moments rather than answering from
the start. A few of the students stated that to be Filipino means to acknowledge your culture, and the
others believed that to be Filipino means to simply have Philippine lineage.
For the second question, there was definitely consistency in everyone’s definition of being
“broken, whitewashed, and real.” To be a real Filipino is more than just acknowledging your culture,
rather it is more about understanding the meaning behind each piece of the culture and being able to
appreciate it. It is also based on your exposure to the cultural practices, and not everyone has the same
exposure; as long as the effort is put into learning and understanding the culture, then there is no real
problem with the identity. When I asked my friends to define a “broken” Filipino, I received interesting
responses. Joshua Binag says that some people are broken Filipinos because they acknowledge their
culture and heritage to a limited extent, spending most of their time rejecting it, as a means of accepting
the American culture to assimilate with American society, so that they are not ostracized for practicing
something different from what most people will do. Another student, Jan, states that broken Filipinos
simply do not want to participate in their culture because they don’t understand the significance behind
certain mannerisms. Ashley Canastra tells me that to be broken means to participate in the culture only
because you are told to do so. In other words, a parent has to tell their child to perform “mano po” to
their elders; a real Filipino would not have to be told, as it would be second nature for them to perform
this small sign of respect. In terms of whitewashed Filipinos, all of my interviewees agreed that
whitewashed Filipinos have little to no exposure to the native culture and are unaware of what their
heritage entails.
My third question was the most simple: asking about their birthplace. Although the quickest
question, I specifically asked this question in order to gain a lens through which I can understand their
opinions on the Filipino cultural identity. The responses I received from the Philippine-born students
were similar to each other and those of the American-born students followed suit; both parties shared
their respective sentiments about what it really means to be a Filipino in this day and age.
For the fourth question, I was really curious about how my friends identified themselves: broken,
whitewashed, or real. Based on the previous question, I had predicted the Philippine-born students
would see themselves as real, and the American-born ones would be either whitewashed or broken;
ironically enough, I was not completely correct. Joshua is an American-born Filipino and he views
himself as a real Filipino because he understands the aspects of the culture that he knows well, and he
doesn’t use them to place himself upon a pedestal of being better than his peers. Jan, in contrast, is a
Philippine-born student, and what he tells me is very interesting: in the past 3 years, he saw himself as
broken because he didn’t want to really practice his culture, but as of now, he is beginning to see himself
edging towards being a real Filipino because of his involvement in clubs like Samahan; he is
re-appreciating his native culture. Alvin is the other Philippine-born student, and he sees himself as
broken because the aspects of culture that were prominent in his life before moving to America have
then since faded slightly, since he lives in an area where there is not a lot of exposure to Filipino culture.
Ashley and Nicole see themselves as broken, as I had predicted, since they have some exposure to the
culture but they are not fully-versed in it nor are they completely comprehensible in their culture.
The fifth and final question refers to what could possibly make someone more or less Filipino,
based on their knowledge of the culture, current news, language, and history of the Philippines. Each
and every of the students I interviewed said that there is no way of detracting from their Filipino essence
just because of the limits of their knowledge. The concept of effort resurfaces: as long as you try your
hardest, you are really progressing towards achieving full understanding of who you really are. This
question hit me personally, because I have been openly criticized by friends and family, in a joking
manner where I am not very Filipino because I’ve never been to the Philippines and I am not too fluent
in either of my parents dialects; however, I am always practicing my limited Tagalog skills every day so
that I can communicate with my family on another level.
The behavior exhibited by my interviewees was intriguing; the use of hand gestures was
anticipated, since Filipinos typically use their hands and other forms of body language to express what
they feel and think. In addition, there were pauses in each response to the questions, especially the first
because there is no concrete definition of what it means to be Filipino since everyone has different
experiences.
To further my ethnographical strategy on understanding the Filipino identity, I would like to bring
out Gloria Anzaldua’s work on cultural borders within the Hispanic community. Her chapter entitled
“How to Tame a Wild Tongue” revolves around the notion that speaking a hybrid language causes
intra-cultural tension; those who identify as a Chicano Spanish speaker are criticized for speaking
something that is considered improper. Anzaldua recalls a time where she was told “If you want to be
American, speak ‘American.’ If you don’t like it, go back to Mexico where you belong (Anzaldua 75).”
Here, the teacher is reprimanding her for using a linguistic chimera: Chicano Spanish. This language is
neither pure Spanish nor pure English; it is also not what most people would call “Spanglish.” Chicano
has been considered as a “mutilation of Spanish,” butchering the standard conventions and structures
within the Spanish language (Anzaldua 77). In fact, Chicano is a language that is seen as a living entity,
something that is always changing; it developed as a result of the border set up between English and
Spanish. After all, the Chicanos only had one option: create their own language as a means of feeling
like they belong in society, a means of feeling like they are their own people. The author also talks about
pochismos, which are words distorted by the English language; the individual who utilizes pochismos by
reconstructing the original language to fit the influences of the English language is called a pocho. In a
sense, this is a way of being “whitewashed:” retaining your tongue but speaking it in such a way that is
not normal to native speakers, rather it is more palatable for the white American.
Anzaldua’s work has a good number of parallels to that which is the kaleidoscope of the
Filipino cultural identity. In the same respect that she was told to “speak American,” there are a number
of American-born Filipinos who are told to stop trying to be “real” Filipinos just because they lacked
the cultural exposure in their upbringing. These victims are constantly berated for their genuine efforts in
trying to understand their roots. Those who criticize, the supposed “real Filipinos,” are not very
accepting of the chimera-like identity: Filipino American. This label is a marriage between the Filipino
and American cultures, and it is unfortunately frowned upon by some people. Like the mutilation of the
Spanish language, Fil-Am identity is seen as a twisting of two pure substances that should not be mixed,
from a narrow-minded perspective. This self is a prime example of a dynamic entity: change within is
always happening. The creation of this identity was not spontaneous, rather it was a gradual
development as time passed in America; American-born Filipinos needed a way to identify themselves
through a means that would not compromise either end of their upbringing and environmental influences.
After all, they are not strictly Filipino or American; they are the blurred area between both sides.
The pochismos I mentioned earlier are likened to the “whiteness” exhibited by Filipino
Americans who do not have as much experience with their native culture as those who were raised with
the customs and mannerisms like it’s second nature. To put it another way, there are aspects of Filipino
culture that are maintained here in the United States, however, they do not possess the true essence of
simplicity found in my culture. For example, the Filipino food served here in the United States tends to
be commercialized in some places, just so that the non-native palate can be satisfied with ingredients
that are familiar to their tastes, thus attracting more and more customers that have that acquired taste.
Bibingka is a famous Filipino dessert that only has a small number of components, but when brought to
America, complexity was factored in to cater to foreign mouths. The same can be said about the
Fil-Am, who is anglicized to fit in with American society, while retaining some sense of their parents’
culture. Like “taming a wild tongue,” Fil-Ams generally have to restrain a part of who they are in order
to be accepted into their surroundings, to avoid being seen as a savage in need of the white savior.
Drawing upon my personal experience as a Fil-Am, I grew up in a community where there
weren’t many Filipino families, let alone Asian families. This environmental factor became the cause for
negativity I faced when I entered college: I had been told I was broken because I was not as “Filipino”
as someone else. I began to believe it and internalize it to the point where I would call myself broken.
Anzaldua depicts a similar scenario in which she says
“Repeated attacks on our native tongue diminish our sense of self. The attacks continue throughout our
lives… Chicanas feel uncomfortable talking in Spanish to Latinas, afraid of their censure. Their language
was not outlawed in their countries. They had a whole lifetime of being immersed in their native tongue;
generations, centuries in which Spanish was a first language, taught in school, heard on radio and TV, and
read in the newspaper (Anzaldua 80).”
Here, Chicanas face discrimination just because their mode of speaking is not as “proper” or
“real” compared to that of the Latina population. The Latinas have a language which has been cultivated
and refined through extensive periods of history, whereas the Chicano Spanish language is relatively new
and still developing; likewise, the Philippine cultural identity has formed from the beginning of time with
contributions from its Pacific neighbors, three hundred years of Spanish reign, and United States military
occupation; the Filipino-American identity, however, is a fairly young being: inexperienced and
continuously growing. Native born Filipinos and Filipino-Americans who exhibit moderate/intense levels
of cultural participation are never subjected to the criticism, rather it is their greenhorn counterparts who
suffer because they do not have a clear idea of how they want to define themselves.
Anzaldua continues to tell the story of the Chicana struggle. In addition to having the Latino
population berate their Chicano counterparts, there is also internal strife within the latter’s community.
She illustrates an issue in which Chicanos attack each other, stating “We oppress each other trying to
out-Chicano each other, vying to be the ‘real’ Chicanas, to speak like Chicanos (Anzaldua 80).” Rather
than working together to forming a more realistic idea of their identity as their common goal, they
vindicate each other. This communal tension is all too familiar in the Filipino community, known as the
“crab mentality,” in which we attempt to erect ourselves by bringing others down; if we do not succeed,
then we take our fellow Filipinos with us. When the author says that Chicanos would “out-Chicano”
each other, Filipino youth tend to go out of their way to show how much more Filipino they think they
can be. For example, people will buy all forms of apparel that utilize the colors of the Philippine Flag:
blue, yellow, red, and white; they will also do whatever is necessary to get anything that has the
Philippine sun symbol. Once they have these items, they will shamelessly wear them to show their
“Filipino Pride;” although there is nothing wrong with showing how proud you are to be of an ethnicity,
there is a certain extent to which your pride becomes hubris. This excessive display of nationalism is just
another way of saying “I am more Filipino than you could ever be, so you should stop trying.”
Now, I would like to bring everything together. Now, I think I am beginning to understand what
it means to be Filipino. We Fil-Ams identify ourselves as such because we feel the need to synthesize a
sense of self so that we can blend into our respective communities. This hybrid individuality is not a gray
area, rather it is a conceptually heterogeneous mixture which allows us to assimilate into our society. As
a result of fitting in, we fulfill our psychological need to have camaraderie, similarities that bring us closer
to others in our populace. The Fil-Am is a determined individual who aspires to infiltrate the social
hierarchy, to feel a stronger sense of belonging. He wants to break the binary relationship of “Filipino”
and “not real Filipino” so that his kasamas, his companions, can establish a new status: the Filipino
experience is hypervariable and no one can have the exact same upbringing.
Anzaldua has inspired me to do further research on hybridized identities and the social dynamics
that surround them. In the following excerpt, she says
“By creating a new mythos -- that is, a change in the way we perceive reality, the way we see ourselves, and
the ways we behave -- la mestiza creates a new consciousness… The work of mestiza consciousness is to
break down the subject-object duality that keeps her a prisoner and to show in the flesh and through the
images in her work how duality is transcended (Anzaldua 102).”
Put another way, Gloria Anzaldua believes that there is a way we can ameliorate this
intracultural tension between the chimeras and the “pure-breds.” She believes that we must develop a
way to see ourselves in a more positive light; no longer whitewashed, fresh-off-the-boat, or broken.
Now it is up to us to formulate the new self, the re-envisioned Filipino American identity. For future
generations, we have the responsibility of creating a better example of what being Filipino is. To be
Filipino does not mean knowing every aspect of our culture like the backs of our hands, nor is it about
trying to deter another kababayan’s success; being Filipino should entail having a receptive heart, willing
to help others understand their roots. At the same time, we must be open to learning more about our
history as a people. Anzaldua places a poem at the end of her work, entitled “To Live In The
Borderlands.” She writes “Cuando vives en la frontera...you’re a...forerunner of a new race (216).” We
need to stand together and push forward for the progress of our people.
Overall, we have delved into the true significance of the cultural identity. We examined the social
interactions between the Filipinos that are raised with high exposure to the culture and the Filipinos who
don’t have much exposure. Through psychoanalysis and structuralism, we understood why certain
individuals behave the way they do, criticizing others for not being as “Filipino.” The ethnographic
method gave us personal insight on how my peers view the issue. With the help of Gloria Anzaldua, we
deconstructed the borders which divide my kasamas and me. As she states, “To survive the
Borderlands/ you must live sin fronteras/ be a crossroads (Anzaldua 217).” Why keep ourselves
isolated, when we can come together at the crossroads?
Works Cited
Anzaldua, Gloria. Borderlands: The New Mestiza = La Frontera. San Francisco: Spinsters/Aunt
Lute, 1987. Print.
Eagleton, Terry, Literary Theory. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1996.
say that the Filipino identity is “simply being Filipino” or “having Filipino lineage” is failing to understand
that there is always a level of complexity to everything in life. This character exists in absolute intricacy;
the more you learn about it, the more questions are raised and the deeper you will dive. The surface is
the previously mentioned “simplicity;” but the depths consist of the varying aspects of the Philippine
culture: dance, music, mannerisms, and language. There is great difficulty in deciphering the identity
because people fall to different levels of “being Filipino.” It is not as easy as stating “I am ‘x’ percent
Filipino; in fact, there is a sense of diffraction where we are bent in different directions; for example, I
am a highly diffractive individual because I was not particularly raised with the native culture, rather I
became hybridized. I know introductory level Tagalog, but I have limited knowledge of the history; I
understand some of the mannerisms, yet they have never become second-nature behaviors.
Not only have I wondered about my persona while looking back on my upbringing, but
immersing myself into the young adult Filipino community has sparked my interest to really investigate
that which constitutes one’s “Filipino-ness.” In District 3 of the Filipino Intercollegiate Networking
Dialogue (abbreviated as FIND), I observe my peers and they exhibit less diffraction than I do: their
proficiency in their parents’ dialects parallels their understanding of the nation’s history, traditional
dances, and mannerisms. I consider them to be the “perfect” Filipino offspring, the kind of children
every parent wants; they are better-equipped to communicate and connect with their relatives on a level
deeper than I could ever hope to achieve. Students from CMSV and the neighboring schools within
District 3 have already been able to establish ang mga barkada nila, their little cliques with whom they
share a strong sense of Filipino pride. This does not mean that I do not have the same pride, however, it
is not as strong because I find myself constantly wondering “Who am I?”
With my problem in sight, I must begin with the hard-hitting questions: how do I determine what
being Filipino is? Some of these questions I directed towards myself, because there is no better way to
learn than digging for answers from within myself. The first step in accomplishing this mission is
deconstructing the Filipino community’s inner mechanics. I want to know how these social dynamics
play a role in determining someone’s cultural identity despite everyone having the same blood. I want to
demolish the borders that divide us and unify the numbers so we can advance instead of bringing each
other down. The cultural identity needs to be understood because it accounts for the majority of our
behaviors; it is what promotes our individuality.
To provide a more historical and dictionary definition of Filipino, I would like to use Gloria
Anzaldua’s “La Frontera: La conciencia de la mestiza.” Although she is not of Philippine descent, her
work is very pertinent regarding hybridized cultural identities and blurred lines between that which is the
“right” identification and that which is “not right.” Anzaldua writes, “Because I, a mestiza/ continually
walk out of one culture and into another/ because I am in all cultures at the same time… (Anzaldua 99)”
Here, she is saying that the Chicano identity is a marriage of two cultures, in which the Chicano walks
on both sides of the division: there is expression of Mexican culture and there is also expression of
American culture; the Chicano is the product of the two, but does not identify with one side over the
other, leading to a dual identity. In a similar fashion, the Filipino does not consist of just the indigenous
culture; it is the conjunction of East and West: Chinese, Malaysian, and Indonesian influences
intertwined with Spanish, and later American culture. Now, in the case of the Filipino-American, all of
the preceding apply, however, there is more emphasis on the American aspect. Filipino Americans walk
along a dangerous line, smudging the border as a result of our confusion: how are we supposed to label
ourselves without backlash from both parties? Where do we belong as a people? Who are we?
For this particular interest in the Filipino cultural identity, I will use two forms of cultural theory:
psychoanalysis and structuralism. I find these two methods to be very fitting because they permit me to
closely examine the inner workings of those “in power,” how they function in relation to their
counterparts who are not “real” Filipinos, and how these people determine what is considered to be the
Filipino identity.
In Eagleton’s work on the theory of psychoanalysis, he mentions the concept of the pleasure
principle. The principle states that it is inherent in human nature to seek that which gives us pleasure, as
long as it satisfies our biological or psychological needs; this is what drives our instinct, or the id. In the
context of my research on the Filipino cultural identity, those who believe they have the power to point
out the lacking aspects of others do so as a means of fulfilling their psychological need to make other
people feel inferior; in short, these people can be likened to bullies who torment other students as their
method of feeling better about themselves. To put things into perspective, I have experienced what it
means to be the “inferior” party, where I was jokingly ridiculed as someone who was not one hundred
percent Filipino. For instance, a family friend make a slight jest at the fact that I have not been to the
Philippines once in my life time, making me only “eighty-nine percent” Filipino. In college, I have a
distant friend who has labelled me as “barok,” or broken, because I do not speak either of my parents’
dialects in a fluent manner; as a result, she also had the audacity to tell me that I completely recited a
Tagalog prayer incorrectly at a religious function. In these moments, the adult and fellow student put
themselves upon a pedestal which gave them an imaginary position of power. With this powerful
perspective, they made me feel insecure about my identity as a Filipino, imposing their hegemonic
discourse upon me. Another portion of psychoanalysis that appears is displacement, which is the
redirection of aggression from the original source to another person. In terms of my scenario, it is
probable that the student’s parents were not satisfied with her “unfilipino” behavior, thus reprimanding
her; in turn, she transferred those negative feelings towards me. Because of the displacement, those
degrading vibes transitioned into rationalization. In rationalization, the subject begins to accept the
aggressive feelings; for me, I have come to accept the fact that I am a “broken” Filipino-American.
The second method of analysis that can be applied to my research interest is structuralism. As
stated by Gabrielle Loccisano, structuralism is defined as:
the process of searching for binary relationships in order to justify human nature… these binary relationships, disable the need for subcategories as there is only and object and a not object… this relationship is then applied throughout history in order to trace patterns that then validate the process of thinking and actions.
To fit within the context of my project, the binary relationship I would like to examine is
“Filipino” and “not Filipino.” We can slightly modify these connections for the previously cited situations,
thus creating “real Filipino” and “not real Filipino.” The displacement that has occurred synthesized this
division within the cultural entity, thus the hegemonic discourse under which I was placed prevented me
from questioning myself as a Filipino: because of my upbringing and my lacking knowledge of language
and culture, I am not a “real” Filipino. Not only has this entire process happened to me, but I have
heard and seen events where a person who was born in the Philippines tells me how “whitewashed” and
“broken” American-born Filipinos are. As a result of these considerations, she does not show much
enthusiasm at our gatherings, rather she constantly states how she knows and understands more about
Philippine culture than the other kids at the party. She is the type of person who considers herself to be
the closest candidate to “real Filipino” in contrast to the others.
In the process of developing this project, I decided that an ethnographic approach would be the
most fitting; I saw it as a great opportunity to observe and analyze the opinions of my peers. I decided
to interview five of my friends from the College of Mount Saint Vincent who are of Filipino descent,
however there is a twist: some of them are American-born, others are Philippine-born. Isolating these
groups allows me to examine the difference or similarities in opinions based on Filipino identity because
they are bound to have distinct views on certain topics regarding the Filipino social dynamic. In addition,
having these kinds of interviewees allows me to understand the perspectives of my friends and family
when I was growing up as well as the perspectives of other friends in college.
I asked five questions to my friends:
· What is your definition of “Filipino?”
· What do you think it means to be a “real Filipino? Broken? Whitewashed?”
· Were you born in the Philippines or in the United States?
· What kind of Filipino do you consider yourself?
· Do you think basic/extensive knowledge of the culture, language, history, and current
topics makes someone more or less Filipino?
As I went through the interviews, I began to notice a few patterns in the responses I
received. For the first question, not one person gave me a straightforward answer as to what being
Filipino is. The students had to think upon the question for a few moments rather than answering from
the start. A few of the students stated that to be Filipino means to acknowledge your culture, and the
others believed that to be Filipino means to simply have Philippine lineage.
For the second question, there was definitely consistency in everyone’s definition of being
“broken, whitewashed, and real.” To be a real Filipino is more than just acknowledging your culture,
rather it is more about understanding the meaning behind each piece of the culture and being able to
appreciate it. It is also based on your exposure to the cultural practices, and not everyone has the same
exposure; as long as the effort is put into learning and understanding the culture, then there is no real
problem with the identity. When I asked my friends to define a “broken” Filipino, I received interesting
responses. Joshua Binag says that some people are broken Filipinos because they acknowledge their
culture and heritage to a limited extent, spending most of their time rejecting it, as a means of accepting
the American culture to assimilate with American society, so that they are not ostracized for practicing
something different from what most people will do. Another student, Jan, states that broken Filipinos
simply do not want to participate in their culture because they don’t understand the significance behind
certain mannerisms. Ashley Canastra tells me that to be broken means to participate in the culture only
because you are told to do so. In other words, a parent has to tell their child to perform “mano po” to
their elders; a real Filipino would not have to be told, as it would be second nature for them to perform
this small sign of respect. In terms of whitewashed Filipinos, all of my interviewees agreed that
whitewashed Filipinos have little to no exposure to the native culture and are unaware of what their
heritage entails.
My third question was the most simple: asking about their birthplace. Although the quickest
question, I specifically asked this question in order to gain a lens through which I can understand their
opinions on the Filipino cultural identity. The responses I received from the Philippine-born students
were similar to each other and those of the American-born students followed suit; both parties shared
their respective sentiments about what it really means to be a Filipino in this day and age.
For the fourth question, I was really curious about how my friends identified themselves: broken,
whitewashed, or real. Based on the previous question, I had predicted the Philippine-born students
would see themselves as real, and the American-born ones would be either whitewashed or broken;
ironically enough, I was not completely correct. Joshua is an American-born Filipino and he views
himself as a real Filipino because he understands the aspects of the culture that he knows well, and he
doesn’t use them to place himself upon a pedestal of being better than his peers. Jan, in contrast, is a
Philippine-born student, and what he tells me is very interesting: in the past 3 years, he saw himself as
broken because he didn’t want to really practice his culture, but as of now, he is beginning to see himself
edging towards being a real Filipino because of his involvement in clubs like Samahan; he is
re-appreciating his native culture. Alvin is the other Philippine-born student, and he sees himself as
broken because the aspects of culture that were prominent in his life before moving to America have
then since faded slightly, since he lives in an area where there is not a lot of exposure to Filipino culture.
Ashley and Nicole see themselves as broken, as I had predicted, since they have some exposure to the
culture but they are not fully-versed in it nor are they completely comprehensible in their culture.
The fifth and final question refers to what could possibly make someone more or less Filipino,
based on their knowledge of the culture, current news, language, and history of the Philippines. Each
and every of the students I interviewed said that there is no way of detracting from their Filipino essence
just because of the limits of their knowledge. The concept of effort resurfaces: as long as you try your
hardest, you are really progressing towards achieving full understanding of who you really are. This
question hit me personally, because I have been openly criticized by friends and family, in a joking
manner where I am not very Filipino because I’ve never been to the Philippines and I am not too fluent
in either of my parents dialects; however, I am always practicing my limited Tagalog skills every day so
that I can communicate with my family on another level.
The behavior exhibited by my interviewees was intriguing; the use of hand gestures was
anticipated, since Filipinos typically use their hands and other forms of body language to express what
they feel and think. In addition, there were pauses in each response to the questions, especially the first
because there is no concrete definition of what it means to be Filipino since everyone has different
experiences.
To further my ethnographical strategy on understanding the Filipino identity, I would like to bring
out Gloria Anzaldua’s work on cultural borders within the Hispanic community. Her chapter entitled
“How to Tame a Wild Tongue” revolves around the notion that speaking a hybrid language causes
intra-cultural tension; those who identify as a Chicano Spanish speaker are criticized for speaking
something that is considered improper. Anzaldua recalls a time where she was told “If you want to be
American, speak ‘American.’ If you don’t like it, go back to Mexico where you belong (Anzaldua 75).”
Here, the teacher is reprimanding her for using a linguistic chimera: Chicano Spanish. This language is
neither pure Spanish nor pure English; it is also not what most people would call “Spanglish.” Chicano
has been considered as a “mutilation of Spanish,” butchering the standard conventions and structures
within the Spanish language (Anzaldua 77). In fact, Chicano is a language that is seen as a living entity,
something that is always changing; it developed as a result of the border set up between English and
Spanish. After all, the Chicanos only had one option: create their own language as a means of feeling
like they belong in society, a means of feeling like they are their own people. The author also talks about
pochismos, which are words distorted by the English language; the individual who utilizes pochismos by
reconstructing the original language to fit the influences of the English language is called a pocho. In a
sense, this is a way of being “whitewashed:” retaining your tongue but speaking it in such a way that is
not normal to native speakers, rather it is more palatable for the white American.
Anzaldua’s work has a good number of parallels to that which is the kaleidoscope of the
Filipino cultural identity. In the same respect that she was told to “speak American,” there are a number
of American-born Filipinos who are told to stop trying to be “real” Filipinos just because they lacked
the cultural exposure in their upbringing. These victims are constantly berated for their genuine efforts in
trying to understand their roots. Those who criticize, the supposed “real Filipinos,” are not very
accepting of the chimera-like identity: Filipino American. This label is a marriage between the Filipino
and American cultures, and it is unfortunately frowned upon by some people. Like the mutilation of the
Spanish language, Fil-Am identity is seen as a twisting of two pure substances that should not be mixed,
from a narrow-minded perspective. This self is a prime example of a dynamic entity: change within is
always happening. The creation of this identity was not spontaneous, rather it was a gradual
development as time passed in America; American-born Filipinos needed a way to identify themselves
through a means that would not compromise either end of their upbringing and environmental influences.
After all, they are not strictly Filipino or American; they are the blurred area between both sides.
The pochismos I mentioned earlier are likened to the “whiteness” exhibited by Filipino
Americans who do not have as much experience with their native culture as those who were raised with
the customs and mannerisms like it’s second nature. To put it another way, there are aspects of Filipino
culture that are maintained here in the United States, however, they do not possess the true essence of
simplicity found in my culture. For example, the Filipino food served here in the United States tends to
be commercialized in some places, just so that the non-native palate can be satisfied with ingredients
that are familiar to their tastes, thus attracting more and more customers that have that acquired taste.
Bibingka is a famous Filipino dessert that only has a small number of components, but when brought to
America, complexity was factored in to cater to foreign mouths. The same can be said about the
Fil-Am, who is anglicized to fit in with American society, while retaining some sense of their parents’
culture. Like “taming a wild tongue,” Fil-Ams generally have to restrain a part of who they are in order
to be accepted into their surroundings, to avoid being seen as a savage in need of the white savior.
Drawing upon my personal experience as a Fil-Am, I grew up in a community where there
weren’t many Filipino families, let alone Asian families. This environmental factor became the cause for
negativity I faced when I entered college: I had been told I was broken because I was not as “Filipino”
as someone else. I began to believe it and internalize it to the point where I would call myself broken.
Anzaldua depicts a similar scenario in which she says
“Repeated attacks on our native tongue diminish our sense of self. The attacks continue throughout our
lives… Chicanas feel uncomfortable talking in Spanish to Latinas, afraid of their censure. Their language
was not outlawed in their countries. They had a whole lifetime of being immersed in their native tongue;
generations, centuries in which Spanish was a first language, taught in school, heard on radio and TV, and
read in the newspaper (Anzaldua 80).”
Here, Chicanas face discrimination just because their mode of speaking is not as “proper” or
“real” compared to that of the Latina population. The Latinas have a language which has been cultivated
and refined through extensive periods of history, whereas the Chicano Spanish language is relatively new
and still developing; likewise, the Philippine cultural identity has formed from the beginning of time with
contributions from its Pacific neighbors, three hundred years of Spanish reign, and United States military
occupation; the Filipino-American identity, however, is a fairly young being: inexperienced and
continuously growing. Native born Filipinos and Filipino-Americans who exhibit moderate/intense levels
of cultural participation are never subjected to the criticism, rather it is their greenhorn counterparts who
suffer because they do not have a clear idea of how they want to define themselves.
Anzaldua continues to tell the story of the Chicana struggle. In addition to having the Latino
population berate their Chicano counterparts, there is also internal strife within the latter’s community.
She illustrates an issue in which Chicanos attack each other, stating “We oppress each other trying to
out-Chicano each other, vying to be the ‘real’ Chicanas, to speak like Chicanos (Anzaldua 80).” Rather
than working together to forming a more realistic idea of their identity as their common goal, they
vindicate each other. This communal tension is all too familiar in the Filipino community, known as the
“crab mentality,” in which we attempt to erect ourselves by bringing others down; if we do not succeed,
then we take our fellow Filipinos with us. When the author says that Chicanos would “out-Chicano”
each other, Filipino youth tend to go out of their way to show how much more Filipino they think they
can be. For example, people will buy all forms of apparel that utilize the colors of the Philippine Flag:
blue, yellow, red, and white; they will also do whatever is necessary to get anything that has the
Philippine sun symbol. Once they have these items, they will shamelessly wear them to show their
“Filipino Pride;” although there is nothing wrong with showing how proud you are to be of an ethnicity,
there is a certain extent to which your pride becomes hubris. This excessive display of nationalism is just
another way of saying “I am more Filipino than you could ever be, so you should stop trying.”
Now, I would like to bring everything together. Now, I think I am beginning to understand what
it means to be Filipino. We Fil-Ams identify ourselves as such because we feel the need to synthesize a
sense of self so that we can blend into our respective communities. This hybrid individuality is not a gray
area, rather it is a conceptually heterogeneous mixture which allows us to assimilate into our society. As
a result of fitting in, we fulfill our psychological need to have camaraderie, similarities that bring us closer
to others in our populace. The Fil-Am is a determined individual who aspires to infiltrate the social
hierarchy, to feel a stronger sense of belonging. He wants to break the binary relationship of “Filipino”
and “not real Filipino” so that his kasamas, his companions, can establish a new status: the Filipino
experience is hypervariable and no one can have the exact same upbringing.
Anzaldua has inspired me to do further research on hybridized identities and the social dynamics
that surround them. In the following excerpt, she says
“By creating a new mythos -- that is, a change in the way we perceive reality, the way we see ourselves, and
the ways we behave -- la mestiza creates a new consciousness… The work of mestiza consciousness is to
break down the subject-object duality that keeps her a prisoner and to show in the flesh and through the
images in her work how duality is transcended (Anzaldua 102).”
Put another way, Gloria Anzaldua believes that there is a way we can ameliorate this
intracultural tension between the chimeras and the “pure-breds.” She believes that we must develop a
way to see ourselves in a more positive light; no longer whitewashed, fresh-off-the-boat, or broken.
Now it is up to us to formulate the new self, the re-envisioned Filipino American identity. For future
generations, we have the responsibility of creating a better example of what being Filipino is. To be
Filipino does not mean knowing every aspect of our culture like the backs of our hands, nor is it about
trying to deter another kababayan’s success; being Filipino should entail having a receptive heart, willing
to help others understand their roots. At the same time, we must be open to learning more about our
history as a people. Anzaldua places a poem at the end of her work, entitled “To Live In The
Borderlands.” She writes “Cuando vives en la frontera...you’re a...forerunner of a new race (216).” We
need to stand together and push forward for the progress of our people.
Overall, we have delved into the true significance of the cultural identity. We examined the social
interactions between the Filipinos that are raised with high exposure to the culture and the Filipinos who
don’t have much exposure. Through psychoanalysis and structuralism, we understood why certain
individuals behave the way they do, criticizing others for not being as “Filipino.” The ethnographic
method gave us personal insight on how my peers view the issue. With the help of Gloria Anzaldua, we
deconstructed the borders which divide my kasamas and me. As she states, “To survive the
Borderlands/ you must live sin fronteras/ be a crossroads (Anzaldua 217).” Why keep ourselves
isolated, when we can come together at the crossroads?
Works Cited
Anzaldua, Gloria. Borderlands: The New Mestiza = La Frontera. San Francisco: Spinsters/Aunt
Lute, 1987. Print.
Eagleton, Terry, Literary Theory. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1996.