A few weeks ago, we posted a video from one of our culture days for the cafe. People were dancing. Budots came on. Someone laughed too loudly. A group started moving in sync without really planning it. It was messy, joyful, a little chaotic. The kind of energy that doesn’t try to be cool.
Then a comment popped up:
“Ang daming palang jejemon sa Sydney.”
So many jejemon in Sydney.
It wasn’t aggressive. Just casual. But it lingered.
Because I realized how quickly we still reach for that word. Jejemon. As shorthand for something unpolished. Too loud. Too emotional. Too Filipino.
And it brought me back to something I’ve thought about for years. I remember listening to Rico Blanco growing up, hearing him switch between Tagalog and English mid-verse. It sounded natural to me. That’s how we spoke. But I also remember people calling that kind of songwriting cheesy. Too sentimental. Too trying. Too “jeje.”
But then you listen to Japanese music. English phrases appear inside Japanese lyrics all the time. Korean songs do the same. Thai indie bands, Indonesian pop. No one calls it cringe. It becomes aesthetic. Texture. Style.
So why is it different when it’s Filipino?
Why does Taglish sometimes get labeled as awkward, while other cultures doing the same thing are seen as expressive? Why is dancing to budots considered jejemon, while dancing to hyperpop, eurodance, or throwback club hits becomes ironic or cool?
Watching that video again, I didn’t see anything embarrassing. I saw people letting go. Filipinos, migrants, friends, strangers. People who probably spent the whole week speaking English at work, adjusting, blending in. And for a few minutes, they just moved to something familiar. Something unserious. Something ours.
Maybe that’s what makes it easy to label as jejemon. It’s too sincere. Too unfiltered. No irony to hide behind but sincerity isn’t something to be embarrassed about.
Budots isn’t trying to be refined. Taglish songs aren’t trying to be perfect. That whole aesthetic we once called jejemon wasn’t polished. But it was honest. It was people expressing themselves with whatever language, rhythm, or humor felt natural and maybe that’s why it makes some people uncomfortable. It doesn’t perform sophistication. It doesn’t try to look global. It just exists as it is.
Being in Sydney has made me see this differently. The further you are from home, the less you care about appearing polished. You start holding on to the things that feel familiar, even if they’re messy. Especially if they’re messy.
So when I read that comment again, it didn’t sting. It felt revealing.
Because if dancing to budots, speaking in Taglish, laughing too loudly, and being unapologetically Filipino is jejemon, then maybe that’s not an insult. Maybe that’s just us being ourselves.