DESPITE gaining independence from Western colonization, particularly from Spain and the United States, we Filipinos have never truly been liberated. Our deep admiration for the West remains, evident not only in our overwhelming consumption of Western products but also in how we take pride in anything associated with Western culture, no matter how trivial.
An example of this mindset surfaced in a viral social media video from the online dating game Pusuan o Laruan. The game follows a typical "pick-me" format, where a man or woman searches for a partner while a group of potential matches decides whether to pop their balloon as a sign of disinterest or keep it intact to show interest.
In the video, one woman popped her balloon and justified her decision by identifying herself as an Englishera, someone who frequently speaks English. She explained that many of the men she had dated found her intimidating, often experiencing nosebleed, a slang term for struggling with English. She added that she might feel overwhelmed if her partner spoke only in Tagalog during their conversations.
While personal preferences in relationships are valid, the deeper issue lies in how English continues to be perceived as a status symbol, associated with intelligence, sophistication, and power, when in reality, it is just a language. This reflects a deeply ingrained colonial mentality that still shapes our perceptions of language and identity.
This mindset is especially evident in workplaces. A study by Tupas and Lorente (2014) on linguistic discrimination in the Philippines found that job applicants who speak English with a Westernized or neutral accent are often favored over those with a distinct Filipino accent.
Similarly, research by the Komisyon sa Wikang Filipino (KWF) highlights that many young Filipinos struggle with proficiency in their mother tongue due to the overwhelming emphasis on English in schools and media. This phenomenon, known as language shift, contributes to the gradual decline of native languages and reinforces the belief that English is superior.
In Philippine academia, the English-Only Policy (EOP) has been enforced for decades, requiring students and faculty to speak only in English as if it were the sole measure of quality education. Many schools in Davao City strictly implement this policy, with some even sanctioning students and reprimanding teachers who fail to comply. However, this reflects a misunderstanding of global competence. Being globally competitive is not about prioritizing English over our native languages but about developing critical thinking, cultural awareness, and the ability to communicate effectively in diverse settings.
Even in everyday interactions, some Filipinos feel the need to apologize before speaking in Tagalog or Bisaya, as if our own languages are something to be ashamed of. At its core, language is meant to be a tool for communication, not a measure of one’s value. It should not dictate a person's credibility, intelligence, or attractiveness.
And so, we continue to chase after Western validation, mistaking borrowed tongues for progress and foreign accents for competence. But at what cost? If we still measure intelligence by fluency in a colonizer’s language and continue to see our own languages as second-class, then perhaps we were never truly freed — only given a different set of chains.
