Close Call
jdeleon@theguidon.com
It was no surprise that when we Filipinos discovered that Jessica Sanchez was of Filipino heritage, we rooted for her. We seem to do this all the time—we boast of world-class talent and label our statements with #PinoyPride. After all, she did create a milestone for us in a competition as widely acclaimed as American Idol. She was a shoo-in for the finale and the judges saving her from a shocking elimination just showed how promising she was.
I may not have closely followed the season this year, but I’m sure it doesn’t take an expert to testify to the finalists’ individual talents. We Filipinos are so fond of the karaoke machine that we seem qualified enough to judge anyone’s singing, despite what the score at the end tells us. The talent of the 16-year old was a no-brainer, garnering massive support from Filipinos all over the world.
In the end, however, it was up to America to decide. After the “bayanihan voting” that took place, Sanchez’ placing second left many of her fans dismayed. Instantly, #PinoyPride prevailed amidst the tweets and memes. Fans found ways to continue supporting Sanchez, whether in the form of bitterness or rationalization.
The most notable supporters on Twitter and Facebook were those who couldn’t accept the turnout, feeling cheated in more ways than one. If we did this for every Filipino rejected by the popular vote, what does that say about us? I was disappointed to find over-patronizing fans who went to the extent of expressing suspicion and hatred towards a program that only proved who the voting American population considered to be their “idol.” Who are we to say this isn’t true: that, based on the votes, Sanchez’s connection with the American audience is not as strong as Phillips’?
The way I see it, there isn’t much reason for this #PinoyPride aside from the fact that we share a common heritage. When Jessica performed on Idol, she showcased her own talent, not ours. We did not give it to her; she developed it on her own. If her Filipina mother had not moved to the US, we would not have heard of her.
Most of what she had as a singer was not acquired from the Philippines, so it seems absurd to be claiming pride. We’ve done nothing concrete to contribute to her being Filipino, except use her for recognition. If we really wanted to show pride, we’d focus on the traits and practices we share—hospitality, resourcefulness, industriousness or even close family ties—instead of the fact that her mother was a Filipina. It was probably just our way of telling the world that the fraction that made her Filipino was enough to pin our small country in the international scene.
At this point, further rationalizing why “our homegirl” deserved it won’t change anything. It doesn’t make us less proud that she fell short of first place, and neither does it make us more proud that we can defend her talent. After all, results are almost always a close call between objectivity and viewers’ loyalty. What’s done is done; if the world truly witnessed what we saw and believed it to be world-class talent calling, it would answer.
