The resurgence of interest in Baybayin, an indigenous Filipino syllabary, is more than a nostalgic dive into the past—it is a resistance against centuries of erasure and a reassertion of cultural identity. Once suppressed by colonial forces such as the Spanish conquistadors in the late 1500s,
Baybayin is experiencing a revival driven by educational initiatives and its integration into modern spaces, including signage and design. But this movement is not merely about aesthetics—it is a deeper, more deliberate act of cultural preservation and awakening.
Baybayin is neither a language nor a relic of the past. It is a living syllabary that was once used to write early forms of Tagalog and still reflects cultural vestiges in various Philippine languages. Its recent visual reintroduction in public spaces has drawn criticism from those who view it as impractical or distracting. This utilitarian mindset—that education must always serve economic productivity—reveals a troubling trend that prioritizes global competitiveness over cultural self-respect.
The argument that “Baybayin is not useful” misses the point. Culture is not just about utility or market value. It is about sustained interaction, heritage, and identity. Viewing cultural revival efforts as “useless” because they do not translate directly into profit is a continuation of colonial thinking, where our traditions are dismissed as inadequate unless validated by Western or global standards.
The concern isn’t just whether students can read or write in Baybayin. It’s about whether they are given the chance to engage meaningfully with their heritage. In doing so, they are encouraged to think critically about identity, history, and the complexity of being Filipino. Projects like these might inspire students to pursue deeper functional literacy, not just in reading and writing, but in how they perceive their world and their role in shaping it.
Education should not be reduced to mere job preparation. Filipino culture reflects this broader, more integrated view. We don’t even have a native word for “work”—trabaho is borrowed from Spanish. Instead, we say hanapbuhay, meaning “searching for life.” It implies a holistic engagement with living, echoing the Cebuano term nanginabuhi, which speaks to a connected, purposeful existence.
Giving up on cultural elements like Baybayin is surrendering to a colonized mindset that deems our native ways obsolete. But reclaiming them allows us to resist that narrative. It’s not about clinging to the past but about grounding ourselves in it to better understand our present and future. We must not be too quick to dismiss what we do not yet understand, especially when it comes from within our heritage.
Ultimately, the Baybayin movement is not about letters on a billboard. It is a challenge to rediscover and redefine what it means to be Filipino in a world that constantly asks us to be anything but.
You may reach Chong Ardivilla at kartunistatonto@gmail.com or chonggo.bsky.social
