In a typical Pinoy household, we celebrate the “well-rounded” child. You know the one: the honors student who also plays the keyboard, leads the rosary, and always remembers to mano to every single Tita at the party. But for many Gen Z parents today, the reality looks a bit different. You might have a child who can explain the intricacies of black holes or the lore of a complex video game (High IQ), yet they’ll have a total meltdown because the texture of the ulam is “too slimy” or the classroom is too loud (Sensory/ND). This is the “Spiky Profile,” and in our culture of high-pressure excellence and pakikisama, it’s time we talk about why being “smart” isn’t as simple…
Walk into any karenderya at lunchtime or scroll through your Tita’s Facebook feed, and you’ll realize something quickly: Filipinos love talking about right and wrong. From celebrity scandals to political maneuvers, we are a nation constantly calibrating our moral compass. But when the topic shifts from neighborhood gossip to life-and-death issues like war and armed conflict, that compass starts spinning wildly. We often hear the sentiment, “Peace is always the answer,” or that being against war is inherently the “moral” stance. It feels right in our gut. After all, we are a people who value connection (kapwa) and community (bayanihan). We’ve seen enough suffering. But is the statement “being against war is morally right” always correct? If we look at…
Part 3 of 3 If Parts 1 and 2 were about the laws we pass and the leaders we choose, Part 3 is about the stories we tell ourselves—and how those stories might be keeping us small. We often talk about the Philippines being “on the rise,” but in 2026, many of us feel like we’re hitting a glass ceiling. It’s not made of wood or stone; it’s made of mindsets. It’s the internal weight of a conservatism that tells us to be “content” and “obedient” even when the house is on fire. How many times have we seen news clips of Filipinos smiling in chest-deep floodwaters? We call it “Pinoy Resilience,” and we wear it like a badge of…
Part 1 of 3 I was stuck in traffic the other day—which, let’s be honest, is where all great Filipino philosophical crises begin—and I found myself looking at the back of a jeepney plastered with religious stickers and colonial-era slogans. It hit me: so much of what we call “Filipino Tradition” is actually just a leftover colonial hangover we’ve mistaken for a personality. We pride ourselves on being a conservative society. We hold onto “the way things were” like a life raft. But if we look closer at the conservatism rooted in our religious and colonial history, you have to wonder: is that raft actually a weight pulling us under? It’s a bit ironic, isn’t it? We defend certain values…
Part 2 of 3 In my last rant or whatever that one was, I talked about the “what,” this part is about the “how.” How did we get to a point where, in 2026, our political landscape still looks like a series of family reunions punctuated by prayer meetings? When you look at the results of the 2025 midterms, it’s easy to get discouraged. Despite some cracks in the old walls, about 80% of our lawmakers still belong to political dynasties. It makes you wonder: why do we, the “masa,” keep voting for the same surnames? The answer isn’t that the voters are “uninformed.” It’s that conservatism in the Philippines has been weaponized into a very effective political product. 1.