s immediately swarmed with admirers. An innocent, unknown child, who should be out in the streets playing with youngsters of her own age, is shoved into a world of glamour and sophistication. She learns to enjoy it, as no matter how modest a girl may be, there is always that natural something in her heart that craves for flattery and attention. These, she is given aplenty, and in a short time, her name is on the lips of many Filipinos from city to city. The popularity and beauty contests all help to herald her name more and more to her people.
She sacrifices her youth, which is the most beautiful period in one’s life, to accomplish the duty that is every Filipino girl’s; that is, to contribute the feminine roles, which even today Filipino society lacks. And the Filipino girl is always proud to do it—always generous in giving herself to her people, that they may learn to esteem the fellowship and companionship of girls of their own blood and from their own country.
For a very short time, she is a queen of many hearts, loved, appreciated, and respected. And then—
It has hurt me to discover it; it hurts me now as I write it, but it is a true fact, sad as it may be. Many Filipinos have abused the efforts of their Filipino sisters. They have not helped to make things any easier for them; in fact they have been too selfishly interested in their own pleasure to give thought to the poor girls’ sentiments and sacrifices.
One occasion where the Filipino’s inconsiderateness is outwardly visible is at the dance hall. Here, where there are about 200 men, all eager to have chances to dance, there are only about 10 or 15 young ladies. Is it not the girl’s problems to decide which of the many men she would dance with? Is it not only natural that she takes first those with whom she is well acquainted? Should she not be given the one privilege to dance with whom she pleases? Ah, how often have open warfare has occurred at dance parties—all because several men would dance with one girl at one time. What does the poor girl do but choose one of them; and those who are disappointed lose their tempers, and openly insult or try to injure either the girl or the rivals. Weapons have, too often, threatened many a life—sometimes actually done injury.
Another hurt that the Filipina is likely to suffer is unjust talk. From the minute she becomes known in the community, her every step is measured and judged—her faults are exaggerated, her good points mocked. No matter how sweet she may be, no matter what good aims and thoughts she entertains in her mind, there is always something wrong, or so it seems to those who always find something to criticize. Constructive criticism is a beneficial thing, but it should never be used to the extent that it hurts.
Some girls fought as they [illegible] have been too weak to overcome these things and have lived to be abused and mistreated. It is these girls, who, believing the whole world is wrong, have also followed the wrong path, and have made their lives miserable.
This is a very disagreeable subject that I am touching upon—one which I fear and disdain as much as you, dear reader, but one which is an absolute truth and a problem which needs to be solved, for the sake of the Filipino girl’s well-being.
I am a Filipina, and every bit of me is proud of the fact. I am eager to do what I can, that those with whom I come in contact may be always happy to be my friends. I am not a star in society; however, I like it and I am sociable. Although I don’t indulge myself too heavily in it, and although I have known it only for a limited time, I have observed enough, I feel, to enable me to write this article. I, too, was taken away from baby dresses to evening gowns—playgrounds to dances—playmates to admirers. But I am a Filipina, and I want to make my Filipino brothers know me and understand me for what I am. I am anxious to do what I can so that a mutual understanding and no hard feelings may exist between them and myself. And I believe that is every Filipino girl’s thought. She means well; but if her good meanings are not