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Cross-Indigenous Dialogue to Bridge Cultural Differences
It seems that, for many people, a “dialogue” looks a lot like an argument, where someone wins based on invisible, yet implicit, ethical standards. This seems to be especially true in discussions on cultural identity and appropriation, where gatekeepers (not culture-bearers) impose very clear boundaries.
Cultures do not have strict boundaries; many borrow (or take) stories and technologies from each other. Something can only ever be fully defined when it is not moving, but that would mean that it is dead. Culture is the current in a river of shared humanity, ever living, ever flowing.
What, then, can it look like to affirm and respect differences, while acknowledging the humanity that connects us all?

Creating Differences
In our attempt to understand the world, we end up endlessly categorizing things into one or the other. In both the scientific arena and the sociopolitical sphere, we have become aware of hierarchies, dichotomies, and differences. In our criticism of certain structures, we are not truly dismantling them; rather, we are constantly affirming them. Even within my field, there is a tendency to contrast indigenous, non-Western values to Western values, usually to show how morally superior we are to the corrupt and hollow West. The most this says is that we value different things, not necessarily that one is better than the other. After all, Western values are indigenous to Western culture in the sense that they evolved through their own history and geopolitical affairs.
As it is popularly understood, a major difference between Western and Eastern cultures is that the former is more individualistic, and the latter more collectivistic. Mindless interaction between the two has been, for better or worse, either by fetish or fear. That there are “individualistic” and “collectivistic” cultures is one of the lazier generalizations in cross-cultural psychology. Furthermore, it has nothing to do whatsoever with geographical location: many cultures in South America are community-oriented, whereas many people from industrialized cultures in Eastern Asia are more ambitious and isolated. When we speak, therefore, of “West” and “East” (or even, Global North and Global South), we are not talking literally; we are talking philosophically.
I was born and raised as a Filipino, so this essay comes from my perspective, shaped by the culture I have gotten used to. It is a Filipino perspective, but it is not the essential or foundational one. But let us be clear: culture is not bound by one’s nationality. There is no singular “American” culture any more than there is a singular “Filipino” or “Japanese” or “Italian” culture. When we say that some people are more or less “Filipino,” we are not setting them against the standards of a culture, but against the standards of a nation, which is an imagined geopolitical thing—and this is largely shaped by the agendas of those in power.
Within what we know as the United States, there are many cultures, and even within a group such as “Asian-Americans,” there are still more varied cultures depending on one’s heritage. Within the Philippines, there are many cultural dichotomies (hating kultural), each representing various social locations by birth, affiliation, or socioeconomic status: taga-lungsod (urban) and taga-probinsya (rural), burgis (elite), and bakya (masses), Kristiyano (Christian, but more generally referring to lowlanders), and katutubo (Indigenous People). There are also nuances by group and by family, which are often lazily described by outsiders in terms of stereotypes.
So, when we refer to “culture,” we are actually just talking about adaptive differences shaped by biology, geography, and history. This applies to small groups, but also to groups that come together. Cultural heritage is how we have survived and decorated the places we call home. Language and fashion develop based on what is useful to us. For example, we Filipinos do not have a native word for snow—we borrow the Spanish nieve—because it does not snow here. However, we do have many words for rice at all stages of its household use, even for when it is past its freshness. We are also shaped by our interactions with other cultures, either by imposition or assimilation.
Much has already been said about the colonial history of the Philippines, and about how many foreign standards are still imposed today. This is true in economics and politics, but also in smaller, everyday things. For example, in Metro Manila, where the thick concrete absorbs the heat of the tropical sun, warm jackets are worn to signify status and coolness. Colonial mentality is often impractical. That said, as writer Nick Joaquin pointed out in Culture and History, many technologies that we enjoy today were brought in through trade and colonization—this includes our modes of transportation, cooking techniques, the printing press, etc. Adobo, the jeepney, and the Barong Tagalog are distinctly “Filipino” even though they are of foreign origin.
There is also much to talk about regarding the interplay of various cultures, and how each one manifests in various places. We can see this in the experience of immigrants everywhere (there are millions of Filipinos living and working abroad), the dominance of Manila-centric ideologies across the varied regional cultures of the Philippines, the enduring hospitality of locals to even the rudest foreigner, and so on. We engage in intercultural dialogue wherever we go, even without leaving our place of residence. In fact, we are allied with each other despite all our differences because we are all human. And so, instead of imposing what has worked for us, it would do us well to learn the many ways of living in the world.
Learning to Listen
Our divisiveness today is rooted in the same human tendency that led to capitalism, totalitarianism, and colonialism, that is, a mindset characterized by kaniya-kaniya (to each their own). Even with good intentions toward collective liberation and indigenization, we might enter haphazardly into the territory of ethnocentrism, xenophobia, and jingoism.
When we view the “colonizer” only as a dangerous foreigner, we tend to ignore the colonizer within, which is the tendency we all have to enter without consent (panghihimasok) and to take without permission (pananakop).
What might it look like to move from the possession and ownership of culture, land, and power to collaboration, stewardship, and mutual flourishing?
As an antidote to harmful social conditioning, we can revisit the intuitive and indigenous. At the core of Philippine folk psychology is a recognition that we are part of a larger whole, not as a singular thing, but as an interplay of interconnected yet beautifully diverse parts. This is most popularly known as Kapwa, a Filipino term that refers to a common identity and a sense of belongingness. The Ilokano concept of Nakem also stands out, as it refers to the relationship of one’s interiority to the larger ecology of people, nature, and spirits. At the meeting of self and other, we see that, despite our differences, we grow from the same earth. It is, as the Bisaya would say, our Kahimtang, our place and shared condition.
Now, if we seek to engage in genuine dialogue across cultural differences within and beyond nations, we can revisit an interesting approach from the Philippine indigenization movements. It is called the kros-katutubo or cross-indigenous approach. The idea is simple: instead of treating other cultures as targets for analysis and domination, we treat them as sources of wisdom. “Indigenous” simply refers to whatever emerges naturally from a particular culture, and so a cross-indigenous approach is essentially a round table, with everyone welcome to sit in. Each of us becomes a culture-bearer. This is relevant in ethical and collaborative social science research (as opposed to exploitative and agenda-driven research), but it is also useful in everyday conversations. This is, fundamentally, an application of Kapwa philosophy. If we are to encourage multicultural diversity, this approach can be incredibly valuable and nourishing.
With respect to the great scholars who came before me, such as Virgilio Enriquez, Rogelia Pe-Pua, and all other critical Kapwa-oriented researchers locally and globally, here are a few important principles for Kros-Katutubo Dialogue:
-
When faced with something or someone new, welcome it or them as an opportunity to recognize a different aspect of your own personhood. Feel with them, be mindful of their moods, and carefully adjust your manners depending on whether something seems appropriate to do or say.
-
Remember that, even if someone is a stranger, they are still knowledgeable in their own way; they have their own life experiences, and they have much to teach you. Be open to this.
-
Do not be quick to sell or expose the knowledge you receive. Your first thought must be whether what you do with this new knowledge will benefit the other. And, if you do have the opportunity to share what you learn, let it be affirmed by them, to ensure that you truly understand.
We do not have to “go native” to understand a different culture, but working with local communities can help us develop our fluency in Kros-Katutubo Dialogue. In this age of information, we are constantly in connection with various cultures around the world, and despite the anonymity and scatteredness of our online spheres, there is the potential to practice intercultural dialogue. In the midst of global confusion and polarization, Kros-Katutubo Dialogue can help bridge divides and guide us toward a collective understanding of the planet we all call home.
{
"article":
{
"title" : "Cross-Indigenous Dialogue to Bridge Cultural Differences",
"author" : "Carl Lorenz Cervantes",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/cross-indigenous-dialogue-bridge-cultural-differences",
"date" : "2025-06-14 14:26:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/cervantes-phillipines.jpg",
"excerpt" : "It seems that, for many people, a “dialogue” looks a lot like an argument, where someone wins based on invisible, yet implicit, ethical standards. This seems to be especially true in discussions on cultural identity and appropriation, where gatekeepers (not culture-bearers) impose very clear boundaries.",
"content" : "It seems that, for many people, a “dialogue” looks a lot like an argument, where someone wins based on invisible, yet implicit, ethical standards. This seems to be especially true in discussions on cultural identity and appropriation, where gatekeepers (not culture-bearers) impose very clear boundaries. Cultures do not have strict boundaries; many borrow (or take) stories and technologies from each other. Something can only ever be fully defined when it is not moving, but that would mean that it is dead. Culture is the current in a river of shared humanity, ever living, ever flowing.What, then, can it look like to affirm and respect differences, while acknowledging the humanity that connects us all?Creating DifferencesIn our attempt to understand the world, we end up endlessly categorizing things into one or the other. In both the scientific arena and the sociopolitical sphere, we have become aware of hierarchies, dichotomies, and differences. In our criticism of certain structures, we are not truly dismantling them; rather, we are constantly affirming them. Even within my field, there is a tendency to contrast indigenous, non-Western values to Western values, usually to show how morally superior we are to the corrupt and hollow West. The most this says is that we value different things, not necessarily that one is better than the other. After all, Western values are indigenous to Western culture in the sense that they evolved through their own history and geopolitical affairs.As it is popularly understood, a major difference between Western and Eastern cultures is that the former is more individualistic, and the latter more collectivistic. Mindless interaction between the two has been, for better or worse, either by fetish or fear. That there are “individualistic” and “collectivistic” cultures is one of the lazier generalizations in cross-cultural psychology. Furthermore, it has nothing to do whatsoever with geographical location: many cultures in South America are community-oriented, whereas many people from industrialized cultures in Eastern Asia are more ambitious and isolated. When we speak, therefore, of “West” and “East” (or even, Global North and Global South), we are not talking literally; we are talking philosophically.I was born and raised as a Filipino, so this essay comes from my perspective, shaped by the culture I have gotten used to. It is a Filipino perspective, but it is not the essential or foundational one. But let us be clear: culture is not bound by one’s nationality. There is no singular “American” culture any more than there is a singular “Filipino” or “Japanese” or “Italian” culture. When we say that some people are more or less “Filipino,” we are not setting them against the standards of a culture, but against the standards of a nation, which is an imagined geopolitical thing—and this is largely shaped by the agendas of those in power.Within what we know as the United States, there are many cultures, and even within a group such as “Asian-Americans,” there are still more varied cultures depending on one’s heritage. Within the Philippines, there are many cultural dichotomies (hating kultural), each representing various social locations by birth, affiliation, or socioeconomic status: taga-lungsod (urban) and taga-probinsya (rural), burgis (elite), and bakya (masses), Kristiyano (Christian, but more generally referring to lowlanders), and katutubo (Indigenous People). There are also nuances by group and by family, which are often lazily described by outsiders in terms of stereotypes.So, when we refer to “culture,” we are actually just talking about adaptive differences shaped by biology, geography, and history. This applies to small groups, but also to groups that come together. Cultural heritage is how we have survived and decorated the places we call home. Language and fashion develop based on what is useful to us. For example, we Filipinos do not have a native word for snow—we borrow the Spanish nieve—because it does not snow here. However, we do have many words for rice at all stages of its household use, even for when it is past its freshness. We are also shaped by our interactions with other cultures, either by imposition or assimilation.Much has already been said about the colonial history of the Philippines, and about how many foreign standards are still imposed today. This is true in economics and politics, but also in smaller, everyday things. For example, in Metro Manila, where the thick concrete absorbs the heat of the tropical sun, warm jackets are worn to signify status and coolness. Colonial mentality is often impractical. That said, as writer Nick Joaquin pointed out in Culture and History, many technologies that we enjoy today were brought in through trade and colonization—this includes our modes of transportation, cooking techniques, the printing press, etc. Adobo, the jeepney, and the Barong Tagalog are distinctly “Filipino” even though they are of foreign origin.There is also much to talk about regarding the interplay of various cultures, and how each one manifests in various places. We can see this in the experience of immigrants everywhere (there are millions of Filipinos living and working abroad), the dominance of Manila-centric ideologies across the varied regional cultures of the Philippines, the enduring hospitality of locals to even the rudest foreigner, and so on. We engage in intercultural dialogue wherever we go, even without leaving our place of residence. In fact, we are allied with each other despite all our differences because we are all human. And so, instead of imposing what has worked for us, it would do us well to learn the many ways of living in the world.Learning to ListenOur divisiveness today is rooted in the same human tendency that led to capitalism, totalitarianism, and colonialism, that is, a mindset characterized by kaniya-kaniya (to each their own). Even with good intentions toward collective liberation and indigenization, we might enter haphazardly into the territory of ethnocentrism, xenophobia, and jingoism. When we view the “colonizer” only as a dangerous foreigner, we tend to ignore the colonizer within, which is the tendency we all have to enter without consent (panghihimasok) and to take without permission (pananakop).What might it look like to move from the possession and ownership of culture, land, and power to collaboration, stewardship, and mutual flourishing?As an antidote to harmful social conditioning, we can revisit the intuitive and indigenous. At the core of Philippine folk psychology is a recognition that we are part of a larger whole, not as a singular thing, but as an interplay of interconnected yet beautifully diverse parts. This is most popularly known as Kapwa, a Filipino term that refers to a common identity and a sense of belongingness. The Ilokano concept of Nakem also stands out, as it refers to the relationship of one’s interiority to the larger ecology of people, nature, and spirits. At the meeting of self and other, we see that, despite our differences, we grow from the same earth. It is, as the Bisaya would say, our Kahimtang, our place and shared condition.Now, if we seek to engage in genuine dialogue across cultural differences within and beyond nations, we can revisit an interesting approach from the Philippine indigenization movements. It is called the kros-katutubo or cross-indigenous approach. The idea is simple: instead of treating other cultures as targets for analysis and domination, we treat them as sources of wisdom. “Indigenous” simply refers to whatever emerges naturally from a particular culture, and so a cross-indigenous approach is essentially a round table, with everyone welcome to sit in. Each of us becomes a culture-bearer. This is relevant in ethical and collaborative social science research (as opposed to exploitative and agenda-driven research), but it is also useful in everyday conversations. This is, fundamentally, an application of Kapwa philosophy. If we are to encourage multicultural diversity, this approach can be incredibly valuable and nourishing.With respect to the great scholars who came before me, such as Virgilio Enriquez, Rogelia Pe-Pua, and all other critical Kapwa-oriented researchers locally and globally, here are a few important principles for Kros-Katutubo Dialogue: When faced with something or someone new, welcome it or them as an opportunity to recognize a different aspect of your own personhood. Feel with them, be mindful of their moods, and carefully adjust your manners depending on whether something seems appropriate to do or say. Remember that, even if someone is a stranger, they are still knowledgeable in their own way; they have their own life experiences, and they have much to teach you. Be open to this. Do not be quick to sell or expose the knowledge you receive. Your first thought must be whether what you do with this new knowledge will benefit the other. And, if you do have the opportunity to share what you learn, let it be affirmed by them, to ensure that you truly understand. We do not have to “go native” to understand a different culture, but working with local communities can help us develop our fluency in Kros-Katutubo Dialogue. In this age of information, we are constantly in connection with various cultures around the world, and despite the anonymity and scatteredness of our online spheres, there is the potential to practice intercultural dialogue. In the midst of global confusion and polarization, Kros-Katutubo Dialogue can help bridge divides and guide us toward a collective understanding of the planet we all call home."
}
,
"relatedposts": [
{
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"author" : "Collis Browne",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/100-years-of-genocidal-intent",
"date" : "2025-10-07 18:01:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/1920-jerusalem.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Every single Israeli prime minister, president, and major Zionist leader has voiced clear intent to erase the Palestinian people from their lands, either by forced expulsion, or military violence. From Herzl and Chaim Weizmann to Ben-Gurion to Netanyahu, the record is not ambiguous:",
"content" : "Every single Israeli prime minister, president, and major Zionist leader has voiced clear intent to erase the Palestinian people from their lands, either by forced expulsion, or military violence. From Herzl and Chaim Weizmann to Ben-Gurion to Netanyahu, the record is not ambiguous:{% for person in site.data.genocidalquotes %}{{ person.name }}{% if person.title %}<p class=\"title-xs\">{{ person.title }}</p>{% endif %}{% for quote in person.quotes %}“{{ quote.text }}”{% if quote.source %}— {{ quote.source }}{% endif %}{% endfor %}{% endfor %}"
}
,
{
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"author" : "Cheb Gado",
"category" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/dignity-before-stadiums",
"date" : "2025-10-02 09:08:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/EIP_Cover_Morocco_GenZ.jpg",
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"content" : "No one expected a generation raised on smartphones and TikTok clips to ignite a spark of protest shaking Morocco’s streets. But Gen Z, the children of the internet and speed, have stepped forward to write a new chapter in the history of uprisings, in their own style.The wave of anger began with everyday struggles that cut deep into young people’s lives: soaring prices, lack of social justice, and the silencing of their voices in politics. They didn’t need traditional leaders or party manifestos; the movement was born out of a single hashtag that spread like wildfire, transforming individual frustration into collective momentum.One of the sharpest contradictions fueling the protests was the billions poured into World Cup-related preparations, while ordinary citizens remained marginalized when it came to healthcare and education.This awareness quickly turned into chants and slogans echoing through the streets: “Dignity begins with schools and hospitals, not with putting on a show for the world.”What set this movement apart was not only its presence on the streets, but also the way it reinvented protest itself:Live filming: Phone cameras revealed events moment by moment, exposing abuses instantly.Memes and satire: A powerful weapon to dismantle authority’s aura, turning complex political discourse into viral, shareable content.Decentralized networks: No leader, no party, just small, fast-moving groups connected online, able to appear and disappear with agility.This generation doesn’t believe in grand speeches or delayed promises. They demand change here and now. Moving seamlessly between the physical and digital realms, they turn the street into a stage of revolt, and Instagram Live into an alternative media outlet.What’s happening in Morocco strongly recalls the Arab Spring of 2011, when young people flooded the streets with the same passion and spontaneity, armed only with belief in their power to spark change. But Gen Z added their own twist, digital tools, meme culture, and the pace of a hyper-connected world.Morocco’s Gen Z uprising is not just another protest, but a living experiment in how a digital generation can redefine politics itself. The spark may fade, but the mark it leaves on young people’s collective consciousness cannot be erased.Photo credits: Mosa’ab Elshamy, Zacaria Garcia, Abdel Majid Bizouat, Marouane Beslem"
}
,
{
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"author" : "EIP Editors",
"category" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/a-shutdown-exposes-how-fragile-us-governance-really-is",
"date" : "2025-10-01 22:13:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/EIP_Cover_Gov_ShutDown.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Each time the federal government shutters its doors, we hear the same reassurances: essential services will continue, Social Security checks will still arrive, planes won’t fall from the sky. This isn’t the first Governmental shutdown, they’ve happened 22 times since 1976, and their toll is real.",
"content" : "Each time the federal government shutters its doors, we hear the same reassurances: essential services will continue, Social Security checks will still arrive, planes won’t fall from the sky. This isn’t the first Governmental shutdown, they’ve happened 22 times since 1976, and their toll is real.Shutdowns don’t mean the government stops functioning. They mean millions of federal workers are asked to keep the system running without pay. Air traffic controllers, border patrol agents, food inspectors — people whose jobs underpin both public safety and economic life — are told their labor matters, but their livelihoods don’t. People have to pay the price of bad bureaucracy in the world’s most powerful country, if governance is stalled, workers must pay with their salaries and their groceries.In 1995 and 1996, clashes between President Bill Clinton and House Speaker Newt Gingrich triggered two shutdowns totaling 27 days. In 2013, a 16-day standoff over the Affordable Care Act furloughed 850,000 workers. And in 2018–2019, the longest shutdown in U.S. history stretched 35 days, as President Trump refused to reopen the government without funding for a border wall. That impasse left 800,000 federal employees without paychecks and cost the U.S. economy an estimated $11 billion — $3 billion of it permanently lost.More troubling is what happens when crises strike during shutdowns. The United States is living in an age of accelerating climate disasters: historic floods in Vermont, wildfire smoke choking New York, hurricanes pounding Florida. These emergencies do not pause while Congress fights over budgets. Yet a shutdown means furloughed NOAA meteorologists, suspended EPA enforcement, and delayed FEMA programs. In the most climate-vulnerable decade of our lifetimes, we are choosing paralysis over preparedness.This vulnerability didn’t emerge overnight. For decades, the American state has been hollowed out under the logic of austerity and privatization, while military spending has remained sacrosanct. That imbalance is why budgets collapse under the weight of endless resources for war abroad, too few for resilience at home.Shutdowns send a dangerous message. They normalize instability. They tell workers they are disposable. They make clear that in our system, climate resilience and public health aren’t pillars of our democracy but rather insignificant in the face of power and greed. And each time the government closes, it becomes easier to imagine a future where this isn’t the exception but the rule.The United States cannot afford to keep running on shutdown politics. The climate crisis, economic inequality, and the challenges of sustaining democracy itself demand continuity, not collapse. We need a politics that treats stability and resilience not as partisan victories, but as basic commitments to one another. Otherwise, the real shutdown isn’t just of the government — it’s of democracy itself."
}
]
}