Representation Matters

The theater is full of family—not all my family, though my cousins and their kids flank me on either side, but families. Plural. There are intergenerational groupings of Filipinos filling up row after row of the 8:35 p.m. showing of DreamWorks' Forgotten Island. The lights dim and all the aunties in the theater quiet down. All the children momentarily stop crinkling their candy wrappers. There is a pause after the globe turns and the Universal Studios and DreamWorks logos appear, and we are plunged into darkness. Then there is a sound, a spotlight, and the screen fills with the image of the Philippine Sun. There is an audible collective gasp from the audience. And then silence, just for a beat. And then, there is applause. There are tears. As the story unfolds, there is laughter.

I am going through all these emotions myself so I should understand them, but mostly I feel awe and it takes me a moment to fully realize what is happening. For the first time (ever), in a mainstream theater located in an Anytown, USA, mall, anyone can watch an animated feature-length movie about Filipino folklore, culture, families, and friendships. For the first time (ever), we were seeing our own stories and experiences reflected back at us. It’s then that I realize how much representation matters. I, and those around me, are seen.

Representation Is Power

The power of being represented in mainstream media outlets has long been studied for its effects on belonging, empathy, self-esteem, and role-modeling. In fact, positive representation is so powerful that research has shown that over time, it can minimize prejudice and racism (González-Velázquez et al., 2020).

Seeing your experiences and your identity has the ability not just for inspiration, but also to model behavioral possibilities. Role models are influential in terms of making people feel validated when they see themselves and their experiences. They are also crucial in demonstrating how to cope and not give up during setbacks. This is true whether they are real people whose lives provide examples of persistence or fictional narratives told through movies, television, or literature.

Narratives not only afford a special kind of emotional processing that allows us to both reflect on and react to various storylines, but they convey implicit cultural value: these characters and their lives matter. –Dara Greenwood, Ph.D.

One movie-goer, 80-year-old Lourdes, who brought her six granddaughters (whose ages ranged from 14 to 6) to the film, said with a wink, “Now they are going to believe everything I tell them about being Filipino,” and then more seriously, “It’s hard to explain how important it is to know where you come from and the stories that make us who we are. Now they will talk about this movie and feel proud, but they will also be more curious and ask questions.”

Conversation Is Necessary

Conversation and curiosity are crucial activities because performative or tokenism behavior is not enough to create change, especially when it comes to race (Gonzalez et al., 2025). Reflection and discussion need to happen to help process what is being shown on screen, and then repetition and consistency ultimately help reinforce and shift ideas. This is what the creators and community at large are doing with Forgotten Island—making it a focal point of Filipino American History Month (October) where community showings are being hosted by student clubs and church groups followed by critical conversation.

Solidarity Makes Representation Count

Representation cannot just stay within the communities being represented. Other groups have to care and create meaningful exchanges. Mainstream media influences people by extending possible real-world connection, functioning as a form of “parasocial” contact (Bond, 2021). The ability to see each other and to see groups of people as integral parts of the nation’s identity builds solidarity and understanding (Chan & Jasso, 2023). Representation is only the first step. More work has to be done to create policy change and institutional shifts, and right historical injustices. Representation doesn’t matter if it doesn’t result in a forward move toward increased equity.

Share your stories with the world. –Forgotten Island (2026)

Filipinos have officially been in the United States since they landed in Morro Bay in 1587 (Mabalon, 2013). Filipino sailors—often called “Manila men”—left Spanish ships through Gulf of Mexico ports and settled in Louisiana in 1763 in settlements like St. Malo (near New Orleans). Filipinos were a driving force behind the historic United Farm Workers movement in the 1960s (Mabalon et al., 2021). These are historical facts that are hardly ever taught in schools. But, as the third largest Asian Pacific Islander population in the United States, a former U.S. colony (1898-1946), and the largest Christian, English-speaking country in Asia, maybe we should know more about this culture. Maybe we should know more about all cultures that make up the United States.

Ordinary Magic in Action

1. Support efforts early: Attend on opening weekends, preorder books, follow and subscribe. Early performance indicators often determine if a project survives and if other projects are invested in.
2. Arrange a watch party of relevant, representative media, including talk-backs that include creatives, policy experts, academics, and community members so that projects are not only seen and read but also discussed and shared.
3. Write reviews and letters of support for diverse creatives (actors, writers, directors, etc.) to support and encourage the development of more mainstream projects.

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