Am I Proud To Be a Filipino?
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The author at Hannam University in Daejon, South Korea
Mingling there with people in their twenties like me—or even younger—who were already pursuing their bachelor's degrees made me realize how small my world had been. It felt like I had spent the past twenty-one years of my life caged like a bird. These peers had discovered the vastness of life's possibilities early on, sharing stories of family vacations abroad, solo travels, productive and unique hobbies, exchange programs, and cross-country internships. Most of them started these adventures at a young age, and they had a treasure trove of fascinating memories, skills, and experiences to share, which also gave them a competitive edge in their careers.
Reflecting on my life, I realize that I didn't have the same opportunities to try various experiences. Growing up in the city, my family didn't have the means for extravagant international vacations or even frequent out-of-town trips to explore new recreational activities. Consequently, I focused on a hobby that was easily accessible to me—reading and writing. It struck me that the phrase "everything is a privilege" carries significant weight, even for our personal interests. The choices we think are purely personal are often influenced by the privileges we have. With limited resources and economic capacity, I could only explore limited hobbies. This convinced me that we must make the most of what is available to us.
Given the challenges my parents faced in securing a stable income, my brother and I ended up attending a local public school which, honestly, didn’t provide the same academic opportunities as those available in other countries or schools. Growing up in a Filipino middle-class family, we were taught that hard work and education were our tickets out of poverty. So, from an early age, our family was focused on survival—my parents with their full-time jobs, and our seriousness with our studies as our way of contributing. There simply wasn’t time for anything else.
It's no surprise that one of the biggest insecurities we would face as adults is feeling deprived of experiences. However, this isn’t just my story. It’s not an isolated case as many people from typical low to middle-class Filipino families certainly share this struggle. By exploring the concept of sociological imagination in my Sociology class in Korea, I learned not to attribute my family’s challenges to luck or misfortune. Instead, the concept helps us understand how personal experiences are deeply connected to broader social issues.
Filipino workers, including my parents, epitomize hard work. They typically put in at least eight hours a day, often more, yet still earn barely enough to get by. After their long workdays, they face tough commutes and often take on side jobs to make ends meet. During my elementary school days my mother would prepare a meal for the entire day and leave us a note because she had to leave for work early and return late at night. According to the latest Global Life-Work Balance Index, the Philippines ranked second to last in terms of work-life balance, highlighting the struggle of employees who remain underpaid.
Currently, Filipino workers are trying to survive on a minimum wage of around 400 pesos, all while facing relentless price increases. There was little time or money for anything beyond mere survival. Every peso was reserved for basic necessities, leaving nothing extra for other pursuits. Workers from various sectors, whether they live in the bustling capital or the quieter provinces, face similar struggles, differing only in scale. They all demand the same fundamental changes: a fair increase in the minimum wage beyond mere survival levels and a reduction in living costs. However, given the current state of our government, these much-needed changes seem unlikely to happen anytime soon.
In relation to its economic status, the Philippines has very low visa power unlike the countries my foreign friends in Korea came from. This makes traveling, visiting, and immersing ourselves in different cultural experiences a luxury. However, due to limited opportunities for higher income in our country, many Filipinos choose to work abroad, taking a chance amid stricter scrutiny, expensive fees, and more restrictive visa policies. My father was one of them. When I was in elementary school, he became an Overseas Filipino Worker (OFW), earning more than he ever could in the Philippines. As the years went by and more Filipinos made this choice, I started to understand the stereotypes that people from different cultures have about us.
The author at the Daejeon Jungang Market
In Korea, I found that it’s a common experience for Filipinos there to be asked if they were there for work when locals learn of their nationality. Not for tourism or education, but for work. It’s striking that many Koreans primarily see Filipinos there through the lens of factory work. It’s bittersweet to realize how deeply your personal identity can be linked to your nationality, which in turn is often associated with a specific kind of value or role.
Wearing a Hanbok, the traditional clothing in Korea
Similarly, although Koreans are generally friendly and hospitable, and Korea consistently ranks among the safest countries for tourists, there seems to be a subtle undercurrent of racism among Asians. This can be quite eye-opening, as a nation's overall economic condition is often construed as a clue of one's personal economic standing. Even if it’s not always intentional, the bias is there, quietly influencing perceptions and interactions.
With Ms. Kim Sejong, our Korean language professor in Hannam University, during the last day of classes.
Once, I ended up chatting with a mixed group of French and Koreans at a French restaurant. I observed individual traits such as the French being generally more expressive and direct. It was fascinating to see how the French often took the lead in conversations. Our discussions seemed to naturally gravitate towards their stories, experiences, and opinions. Despite being visitors in Korea, they seemed to dominate, their cultural attributes seeming to overpower that of the other Asians.
Moreover, there was a noticeable lack of interest in our culture, despite their admission of knowing almost nothing about the Philippines. It was challenging to spark their curiosity about what the Philippines has to offer, especially since I hadn't experienced much of it myself, having rarely ventured outside of Manila. It did not help that Manila was not really on their travel wish list, as it has gained notoriety for ranking high among the most dangerous places for tourists. Most of them were only familiar with Cebu, a popular destination for Korean tourists, and it felt disheartening to share stories about the place based solely on what I'd read rather than personal experience. The Philippines boasts many breathtaking and unique beaches that attract foreigners, and I felt a pang of shame when I admitted I had yet to visit many of them. Ultimately, this reflects the sad reality that the Philippines is more accessible to foreigners than to its own people.
Additionally, most of us at the table had a basic knowledge of French, and I had been learning Korean even before my exchange program. However, the other two cultures represented at the table had no knowledge of Filipino. Perhaps they were thinking, why bother learning a language that doesn't carry much weight on the global stage? When I mentioned I was from the Philippines, one of the Koreans excitedly shared that she had been there to study. Unsurprisingly, she had studied English, not our native language. Thus, this seemingly mundane interaction revealed the underlying power dynamics between cultures: we are closely linked to our countries’ economic standing.
The people I’ve been interacting with aren’t always from the upper classes. Sometimes, they identify as middle-class, just like me. However, the middle class in their context is different from what it means for us. This ties into something I learned in my Sociology class: global stratification. Global stratification refers to the way countries are ranked in terms of wealth, power, and development. In other words, it's like a global ranking system where some countries are rich and powerful, while others are poor and less influential. This ranking influences how resources, opportunities, and privileges are distributed worldwide. So, even though by definition we share similar economic backgrounds, people from other countries often have greater means for traveling, supporting international academic ventures, doing weekly bulk grocery shopping, and buying houses that are two or three times larger than what we have. Unfortunately, it seems like the Philippines is often at the lower end of this spectrum.
The Philippines boasts many breathtaking and unique beaches that attract foreigners, and I felt a pang of shame when I admitted I had yet to visit many of them.
The author receiving a plaque of recognition for completing the Spring 2024 semester at Hannam University, given on the CAMPUS ASIA-AIMS Farewell Party on June 21, 2024.
How can we take pride in being Filipino when we find ourselves in a challenging position both at home and abroad? It’s disheartening that our cultural value on the global stage is often reduced to stereotypes and requires constant validation. I find intercultural interactions fascinating because they offer more than just an opportunity to learn about other cultures; they also provide a mirror for reflecting on our own. Observing the conveniences others have can highlight our own limitations. However, I hope these exchanges are seen as opportunities to build connections that go beyond the surface and towards intercultural understanding.
Trixia Marie Policarpio, 22, is a creative writing student at the University of the Philippines Diliman. She spent the spring semester 2024 as an exchange student in South Korea. To fuel her writing inspiration, she enjoys visiting museums and galleries whenever she travels to a new country.