Against accent shaming

By Noel Galon de Leon

I recently received a message from Chuckberry Pascual, who was looking for a resource person among individuals familiar with language, literature, and regional discourse. His students from the Bachelor of Multimedia Arts program of CIIT College of Arts and Technology are currently conducting a research study entitled “Hahaha! Mali ‘yang pagkakasabi mo!”: A Bisaya Poetry Animation Addressing the Pronunciation Differences of Bisaya People as a Cause of Discrimination and Bullying rooted in Cultural Superiority and Tagalog Ethnocentrism.”

The title alone already signals a pressing cultural tension that has long been normalized but rarely interrogated with seriousness in Philippine academic and media spaces. It confronts a discomforting reality: that pronunciation, particularly when marked as Bisaya, is often treated not as linguistic variation but as a basis for ridicule, exclusion, and even intellectual dismissal.

When I read the topic, I found myself agreeing that it is timely, necessary, and deeply relevant to ongoing conversations in Iloilo City, Panay, and the broader Visayas. It reflects what many Ilonggos and Bisaya speakers have long experienced but often remain silent about. I decided to share my responses for our column today not only as an academic reflection but as a personal and critical engagement with a form of everyday discrimination that continues to shape how we hear, judge, and value each other as Filipinos.

1. What do you think of Bisaya accent shaming in general?

Bisaya accent shaming is deeply wrong, and it should never have a place in academic institutions, media spaces, workplaces, or even casual conversations among Filipinos. For me, mocking the Bisaya accent is not simply about teasing the way people speak. It reflects a much larger problem in Philippine society, which is the tendency to equate certain accents with intelligence, education, social status, or cultural superiority.

As someone from Panay and working closely with students, writers, and educators in Iloilo City, I find it alarming that many young people still grow up believing that they need to “neutralize” their accent in order to sound credible or respectable. This mindset is dangerous because it teaches people to become ashamed of where they come from. Language should never become a tool for humiliation.

The irony is that the Philippines is multilingual by nature. Our regional accents carry history, geography, memory, and identity. The Bisaya accent, whether from Iloilo, Capiz, Antique, Negros, Cebu, or Mindanao, tells a story about migration, community, and culture. It is part of who we are as Filipinos. To shame someone for their accent is, in many ways, to shame the diversity of the nation itself.

What is even more frustrating is that many people who mock Bisaya accents often fail to recognize the richness of Visayan literary traditions, intellectual history, and cultural contributions. Western Visayas alone has produced major writers, scholars, artists, and educators who shaped Philippine literature and culture. Yet some people still reduce Bisaya-speaking individuals into stereotypes for comedy or ridicule.

Accent diversity should be celebrated, not erased. If anything, regional accents challenge us to expand our understanding of communication and identity. They remind us that there is no single “correct” way of being Filipino.

2. Do you have a distinct regional accent? If yes, have you experienced being discriminated against for having a distinct regional accent?

Personally, I do not think I have a very strong regional accent, perhaps because of years spent in academic and literary spaces where people constantly shift between Filipino, English, Hiligaynon, and other languages. However, I know many students, colleagues, and friends from remote areas in Panay whose accents become more noticeable whenever they speak Filipino or English.

What strikes me most is that some of them become targets of subtle ridicule, especially in online spaces or when interacting with people outside the region. Sometimes the discrimination is disguised as humor. People imitate their pronunciation, laugh at certain intonations, or immediately assume they are less educated. That is painful to witness because accent has absolutely nothing to do with intelligence, analytical ability, or academic competence.

In fact, many of the brightest students I have encountered in Iloilo and across Panay speak with very distinct regional accents. Some come from farming communities, coastal towns, or upland municipalities, yet they excel in literature, science, public speaking, and leadership. Their accent never limited their intellect. If anything, it reflects resilience and authenticity.

What I admire about many Ilonggo and Bisaya students is their ability to continue speaking confidently despite these forms of discrimination. They refuse to erase themselves just to fit into a Manila-centered standard of speaking. That confidence is powerful. Nobody deserves to be judged solely by pronunciation or accent.

3. How do you think Bisaya accent shaming started?

Bisaya accent shaming did not emerge overnight. It is rooted in historical power structures in the Philippines. Much of it comes from the long-standing concentration of political, economic, and media power in Manila and other Tagalog-dominated areas. Over time, the language and accent associated with the center of power became treated as the “standard,” while regional accents were portrayed as inferior, provincial, or comedic.

Mainstream television played a major role in reinforcing these stereotypes. For decades, Bisaya accents were often used in movies, sitcoms, and comedy programs as punchlines. Characters with Visayan accents were frequently portrayed as maids, sidekicks, security guards, or naive probinsyanos. These portrayals normalized the idea that Bisaya speech was something to laugh at.

Educational systems also contributed to the problem. Many schools implicitly reward students who sound closer to the so-called standard Filipino or Americanized English accent. Students who speak with regional intonations are sometimes corrected excessively or made to feel embarrassed in classrooms.

In many ways, Bisaya accent shaming is connected to colonial mentality. Filipinos inherited the idea that there is always a “superior” way of speaking. During colonization, fluency in Spanish and later English became associated with class and authority. Today, some people unconsciously apply the same hierarchy to Philippine languages and accents.

4. Knowing that there are numerous regional accents in the Philippines, why is it that the Bisaya accent is mostly targeted for accent-based discrimination?

One major reason is visibility. Bisaya-speaking communities make up a huge portion of the Philippine population. Bisaya speakers are present across the Visayas, Mindanao, and even Metro Manila because of migration and labor movement. Because they are highly visible, their accents also become highly noticeable and therefore easier targets for stereotyping.

Another reason is cultural bias shaped by media and social power. For a long time, mainstream Philippine entertainment has centered Manila perspectives. Anything outside that center is often portrayed as “other.” The Bisaya accent becomes marked as different, and in some cases, treated as less sophisticated.

There is also an uncomfortable truth that many people hesitate to discuss. Some forms of discrimination against Bisaya accents are rooted in class prejudice. Bisaya-speaking migrants in urban centers are often associated with labor sectors, domestic work, or lower-income communities. Because of this, accent discrimination becomes tied to social discrimination.

In Iloilo City and Panay, we understand how unfair this is because many Ilonggos have experienced being underestimated outside the region. Yet when people actually encounter the depth of Hiligaynon culture, Visayan literature, and the intellectual tradition of Panay, those stereotypes collapse immediately.

5. As a distinguished literary and academic figure from Western Visayas, have you ever addressed Bisaya accent shaming in the academic setting or in your literary works? How?

Yes. In both academic and literary spaces, I consistently emphasize that language diversity must be respected and protected. Inside classrooms, I make it clear to students that accent should never become the basis for measuring intelligence, creativity, or worth. I encourage them to speak without fear, whether in Hiligaynon, Filipino, English, or a mixture of languages.

In literary discussions, I often highlight how regional languages and accents preserve memory and identity. The voices of people from Panay, especially those from marginalized communities, deserve to be heard without being filtered or sanitized to satisfy dominant standards. Literature becomes meaningful precisely because it carries the texture of real speech and lived experience.

I also believe that educators have a responsibility to challenge discriminatory behavior immediately. Silence allows prejudice to survive. When students hear teachers mock accents or tolerate accent-based jokes, they internalize the idea that discrimination is acceptable.

For me, defending regional speech is also part of defending cultural dignity.

6. Do you think the Tagalogs developed a perceived superiority of the Tagalog language, which affects their perception of other Philippine languages and regional accents, including Bisaya?

I think there is a historical perception of linguistic superiority attached to Tagalog, but it is important to approach this carefully and critically. Not all Tagalog speakers discriminate against Bisaya accents, and many actively support linguistic diversity. However, because Filipino is heavily based on Tagalog and because Manila became the political and media center of the country, Tagalog naturally gained institutional dominance.

When one language becomes dominant in government, television, education, and entertainment, people may unconsciously begin treating it as the norm against which all others are measured. That creates an imbalance. Regional languages and accents are then unfairly labeled as deviations rather than equal expressions of Filipino identity.

The danger here is cultural centralization. If one linguistic identity is constantly portrayed as more refined, educated, or modern, other identities become marginalized. This is why discussions about accent discrimination are also discussions about power.

Many Ilonggos and other Bisaya-speaking Filipinos are not asking for superiority. We are asking for equality and respect.

7. How do you think the dominance of the Tagalog population influences this type of discrimination?

Population dominance influences culture, media representation, policy, and public perception. Because Tagalog-speaking regions hold strong influence over national media and institutions, their way of speaking often becomes normalized as the default Filipino experience.

This affects how accents are represented and judged. A Tagalog accent is rarely described as an “accent” because it is treated as standard, while Bisaya accents are constantly identified, pointed out, or caricatured. That imbalance creates social pressure for regional speakers to adjust or assimilate.

In practical terms, this discrimination can affect confidence, employment opportunities, classroom participation, and even social mobility. Some Bisaya-speaking students become hesitant to recite in class or participate in national events because they fear ridicule. That is not a small issue. It directly affects people’s sense of belonging and self-worth.

Here in Iloilo City and across Panay, we should continue resisting the idea that our voices need to sound more “Manila” in order to deserve respect. The strength of the Philippines lies in its plurality. Our accents are not evidence of inferiority. They are evidence of history, culture, and survival.

And perhaps the most provocative question we should ask today is this: Why are Filipinos still teaching fellow Filipinos to be ashamed of their own tongues?