Identity is how you understand who you are, and this helps us put ourselves in the context of a larger system. Each of these categories also points to where I am located in society. I know that I am a “Filipino” “man” who is a “trentahin” “millennial.” I know that I am “Filipino”—not “Brazilian” or “Vietnamese.” I know that I am a “man,” not a “woman” or “non-binary.”
I know that I am “trentahin” and a “millennial,” which implies its own set of age-specific contexts, such as being nostalgic for 2010s dance music—personally, something in me comes alive when I hear the first notes of Zedd’s “Clarity.”
Each of us is a mix of identities, but we can meet each other at certain points. Not all Filipinos are men, or trentahin. Not all millennials are Filipino. This should be common sense
Each of us is a mix of identities, but we can meet each other at certain points. Not all Filipinos are men, or trentahin. Not all millennials are Filipino. This should be common sense.
Human beings are diverse and exciting. There are so many ways to be human, and so many ways to express human experiences. There are hundreds of languages and cultures, thousands of special dishes and clothing styles. It is in this diversity that life can flourish.
Compulsive categorizing
Of course, it can be fun to categorize ourselves: This is why horoscopes and personality tests are so popular. But when categorizing becomes compulsive—when we are always looking for ways to box ourselves and other people—then it becomes dangerous.
When categorizing becomes compulsive—when we are always looking for ways to box ourselves and other people—then it becomes dangerous
For example, it has been a dangerous fad to categorize yourself based on a mental illness. This is popular on social media, where influencers misappropriate clinical terminology to tell you the “Five Signs that You Have ADHD” or the “Three Major Signs of Trauma,” and so on. It is never safe to self-diagnose because it only adds unnecessary anxiety and prevents people who might actually have a condition from seeking professional help.
An “illness” is something that prevents us from living a decent life. When we self-identify with a curable disorder, we have less incentive to actually cure ourselves—ironically, we may continue to suffer.
Categorizing oneself can take on more sinister, harmful forms, such as:
1. Enforcing strict gender roles, such as “tunay na lalaki” or “kababae mong tao.” This limits the unique expression of what a person can be. So many people have suffered through violence because they were forced to “fit” into one of only two boxes.
2. Racism, such as when we categorize all people from a certain nationality as “stinky,” “barbaric,” or “untrustworthy.” In some countries, immigrants are hunted down and deported—stripped away from their families.
3. People from opposing sides of political colors call each other the nastiest names, and each side, believing that the other side is “bobotante.” This prevents realistic dialogue that could be mutually educational, and it stops us from seeing each other as fellow Filipinos. In the end, we will all suffer the consequences of our actions.
Identity is belongingness
When we are asked, “Sino ka?” our answer reflects where we belong. Our bodies and names are given to us by our familial lineage. Our affiliation with schools, friend groups, religious groups, or organizations shows our conditioning and sense of kin. We didn’t choose to be born where we were—but we are shaped by the contexts we happen to be in.
When we are asked, “Sino ka?” our answer reflects where we belong
Sure, we can leave our societies. We can remove ourselves from groups. We can change our names and alter our bodies. We can have a transformation from within, a pagbabagong-loob, and become a totally different person—bagong tao. But even these are actions influenced by our contexts. Whatever we do, wherever we go, it is a reaction to our interconnectedness.
This is why we cannot just categorize ourselves basta basta without first participating in a community. We cannot just have an identity out of thin air. When we want “representation,” especially for sociopolitical issues, we are not just talking about ourselves as individuals; we are talking about the people we care about, and the people who are like us.
When we want “representation,” especially for sociopolitical issues, we are not just talking about ourselves as individuals; we are talking about the people we care about, and the people who are like us
When we continue to live in our personal kingdoms, our private algorithms, it can be easy to forget how beautifully varied and diverse we truly are as human beings. There are billions of us, and billions more before any of us living today were even alive, and that number is incredibly hard to even imagine.
Our identities show us where we belong, and at some point, we will have to choose whether this is something we must wear with pride or something we might have to leave behind. We all change across time: our bodies age, our mindsets shift, and things may happen in our lives that alter who we are.
If we are compulsive about putting people in boxes, as if that is who they are forever, we simplify them, and we deny ourselves (and even the people themselves) the chance to transform.
