By Dylan Mangahis, March 24, 2026
2026 should feel like a victory lap for Filipinos and Filipino-Americans since we are amid a growing “acknowledgment wave” for one of the first times in the 438 years of our existence in America.
Walk into any indie coffee shop or big chains like Starbucks and find their latest summer special, ube. Or if you tuned into this latest awards season, you met some high-profile Filipinas – Isa Briones and Autumn Durald Arkapaw at the Actor Awards and at the Oscars.
The little Filipina girl who lives in my heart can’t help but be enthralled that people are becoming so in tune with us. But the young adult in me has also noticed as Filipino-ness is brought into mainstream visibility, it is also quietly flattened, aestheticized and sold back – often without the people who made it meaningful in the first place.
Firstly, it’s not “oob” or “oo-bay.” It’s ube; “oo-beh.” If your tongue can wrap around your straw to consume it, you can learn to say it properly. Secondly, no, it is not the same as taro.
Ube has gotten a makeover. The sweet, deep purple root vegetable is most noticeably seen living a lavish life as a $7 or more latte. But as brands promote it as a trendy purple flavoring without crediting Filipino culinary tradition, that’s when the origin story gets erased, and so does the credit and economic power.
So, before it slipped into the hands of your Starbucks barista, it was almost always found in the pantry of Filipino homes, businesses and bakeries. And way before then, ube was a means of living.
For the Aetas, one of the longest-standing Filipino Indigenous groups, ube is essential. The Aetas are highly dependent on the crop for its value compared to other crops the Indigenous produce. Despite that, they reap insufficient income from ube harvesting, according to Medium.
Exports have quadrupled to more than 200 tons per year, mostly to the U.S. The Philippines even imports ube from Vietnam just to meet local demand, according to Peso Weekly.
The paradox of 2026 for Filipinos, as well as many Asians is our culture is trending, but we still find ourselves negotiating to be in spaces. Without the story, this “acknowledgement” for appreciation is simply just gentrification in another mask.
Meanwhile, Filipino creatives are breaking through. Autumn Durald Arkapaw’s Oscar win for best cinematography was a historic occasion, not only because she’s the first woman to win in 98 years, according to Entertainment Weekly, but she’s also the first Filipina and first woman of color to win. It’s an accumulation of firsts to show the progression, yet a very steep delay the academy holds.
Weeks before the Oscars, “The Pitt” stars Isa Briones, Amielynn Abellera and Kristin Villanueva won the SAG-AFTRA alongside their castmates for outstanding performance by an ensemble in a drama series.
Their roles in the show highlight the real faces of the nurses in hospitals: Filipinos.
In a study done by the American Immigration Council, out of 2.8 million immigrant health care workers in the United States, 13.5% are Filipino, and 29.3% of those are registered nurses.
From season one alone, medical professionals have deemed The Pitt “the most medically accurate” medical drama when they sat down with any major outlets like NPR, The New York Times and Vulture.
In my heart, they’re the most culturally accurate. As someone who’s watched countless medical shows, like Grey’s Anatomy, The Good Doctor, ER and House, that was the first time I saw my face in a non-secondary role and instead in a role with substance and cultural accuracy.
I remember watching The Pitt for the first time and hearing their characters speak Tagalog. I clutched my mom’s hand in excitement and hurriedly grabbed the remote to rewind the scene. I felt a warmth wash over my body and tears formed in my eyes.
I gave up my dream of being an actress because I was always told by my dad, “You’ll have better luck in the Philippines,” and “You’d be famous in the Philippines.” But they got lucky here. They got famous and were recognized by the academy here.
Regardless, it is one television show, and only two awards, which is not enough recognition. For every Arkapaw and The Pitt, there are countless Filipino creatives still being told, “You’ll only be famous in the Philippines,” and they are fighting to share their stories in the States.
We’re continuing to live in contradiction. I’m annoyed watching CNBC highlight a white woman centering ube for her coffee business and not even mentioning its Filipino, yet I’m filled with pride to see a Filipina live my childhood dream of being an Oscar winner.
Visibility can sometimes function as a ceiling disguised as a spotlight, so it can uplift some and not change for the many. We are finally being seen as a culture that is influential but not rooted, a culture that can be trendy but not credited, a culture celebrated for its fragments of flavor and talents but rarely as a whole.
Feature graphic by Connor Lālea Hampton