Filipino or Pinoy pride is a phrase commonly heard these days, partly because we Filipinos tend to be vocal about it each time someone among us hits the big time on the international scene.
We recall the moment Pia Wurtzbach and Catriona Gray won their respective Miss Universe titles, or when Gilas Pilipinas bagged the gold at the Asian Games basketball tournament after six decades and after nail-biting, exciting games against erstwhile powerhouses Iran and China.
A few days ago, we brought out once more our Pinoy pride streamers after Sofronio Vasquez triumphed in Season 26 of the American talent competition The Voice. He is the first Filipino and male Asian to bag the title, and you must have seen that video clip of him with Snoop Dogg, one of the coolest guys on Earth, circling him like he’s some god or something beyond human.
Sofronio was born in Ozamiz, Misamis Occidental to pure Filipino parents named Oniol Vasquez and Aida Parojinog. He certainly grew up in the Philippines and even joined the local TV contest “Tawag Ng Tanghalan” of It’s Showtime fame, where he finished, well, seventh place.
I am using the words “raw” and “fried” in the title of this column entry not just for wordplay but to stress the point that we tend to overcook our sense of national pride instead of keeping it pure and natural, as in raw.
There is a reason why, on social media, you can see jokes about celebrating a compatriot’s success when their link to being Filipino is so tenuous that it feels like the issue is being forced
I found it a bit odd when some supposedly very Pinoy individuals living in the Philippines had the audacity to celebrate the Miss Universe victory of R’Bonney Gabriel simply because her father is Filipino and married to an American. They almost had the same reaction as when Pia and Catriona pulled it off.
No problem with cheering, but calm down, guys. Read the situation. She grew up in and represented the USA, and there was someone who carried the Philippine flag on Coronation Night but didn’t advance to the Top 16. How about feeling for the latter first? Can we say you can’t root for two countries in such a scenario? You can if you feel like it, but that doesn’t make much sense unless you’re an actual relative or friend of the Gabriels.
Given that every headline-grabbing matter these days dissipates after a week, I hope Sofronio’s victory receives public attention for an extended period—on the level of Manny Pacquiao winning against a legendary foreign opponent. He is a pure Pinoy who has experienced what it truly means to be a Filipino, facing all the challenges of living in the motherland. He succeeded in America and made us all proud.
Don’t get me wrong—it is heartwarming when someone with Filipino roots who grew up elsewhere expresses their Pinoy pride. The problem, in my perhaps unpopular opinion, arises when 100 percent of Filipinos ride on it too much, to the point of sounding arrogant. You can tell when someone is genuinely happy for another’s success versus when someone uses it to elevate their status for personal gain.
I saw a couple of people on Facebook claiming they cried when Sofronio won. One thing I know is that they don’t treat people well and are very much all about themselves. So, I’d say they were trying to have their moment at the expense of a real winner.
Friends, we have to acknowledge the essence of Pinoy pride. Let’s lift each other up. Help that compatriot struggling in a foreign land. Don’t overlook anyone grinding daily amid the traffic of Metro Manila or in some remote province—they may desperately need your faith in them to find their star. Don’t preach or brag about what you’ve done and why you’re successful. The moment you say, “hindi naman sa pagmamayabang,” it’s often the cue to say something boastful.
Let’s be genuinely proud of our kababayans making it big abroad and excelling in global competitions. Leave out the toxic drama, grandstanding, and excessive showing off. And please, prioritize humility—it remains far more graceful than flexing.
