What’s in a chair ?

By: Nirmla Johnson

 

Filipino Obsession with the VIP Seat: A Cultural Reflection on Social Insecurity and the Need for Validation In many Filipino social functions—whether it’s a town fiesta, a charity gala, a political gathering, or a family reunion—there’s often more going on than the surface suggests. Beyond the music, the food, and the smiling faces, there is a quiet but palpable tension that revolves around one particular aspect: the sitting arrangement.

For Filipinos, where one is seated is more than just logistics. It is a subtle declaration of one’s social worth. The seats in the front row, the seats closest to the host, the seats behind the ribbon and flowers—all collectively represent the so-called “VIP section.” And for some, to not be seated there is to feel invisible.

A Deep-Rooted Cultural Habit

This behavior traces its roots all the way back to the Spanish colonial period. Filipinos, once labeled as second-class citizens in their own land, were conditioned to associate worth with proximity to power. During that time, those who sat at the mesa principal were friars, governors, and mestizos. The Indios—the native Filipinos—stood at the edges. Even after centuries, the echoes of that hierarchy remain embedded in our social functions.

Today, this translates into a kind of unspoken rule: to be seated in the VIP area is to be seen as someone who has “made it.” It’s no longer about power in the political sense; it’s about social currency, relevance, and recognition. People chase the VIP seat not only for comfort or visibility but because it symbolizes something far deeper— the validation that “I matter.”

The Silent Struggle for Recognition

At the heart of it lies a deeply human need: the desire to be seen and acknowledged. But in the Filipino context, this desire is often magnified by generational insecurity, a society shaped by class division, and the constant craving to prove oneself worthy. This has led to uncomfortable moments—people disputing their seating arrangement, storming off in indignation, or passive-aggressively making their presence known, just to prove they belong to the so-called “VIP league.”

But here’s the truth: your presence alone already makes you valuable. The act of showing up, of being part of a celebration or a mission, should be recognized as a statement of honor and intent. Why then do some feel the need to shake the table—sometimes literally—to prove they belong at the head of it?

The Provocateur’s Seat: Is It Worth It?

Choosing to make a spectacle of one’s absence from the VIP area may win fleeting sympathy, but it often leaves a sour taste. Such acts of provocation say more about the person’s internal struggle than the seating chart. The loud demand to be seen may stem not from pride, but from a place of long-standing social insecurity.

It begs the question: Why is a chair so powerful that one is willing to lose dignity for it?

Rising Above the Need for Validation

To those who have ever felt diminished by not being called to the front, remember:

• You are more than your seat.

• Your worth is not dictated by a name card on a table.

• Being present, being involved, and being part of a collective purpose is far more lasting than being momentarily seated next to a guest of honor.

Healing this cultural insecurity begins with personal assurance. Affirm yourself. Celebrate your presence. Your legacy is not made by the chair you sit in, but by the impact you leave behind.

Final Words: Rethinking the Throne

Let us not allow a chair to determine our value, nor let a sitting arrangement stir unnecessary provocation. The most coveted seat is not the one labeled VIP—it is the one where your presence adds meaning, connection, and authenticity to the gathering. That, in truth, is the seat of honor.

So the next time you enter a room and glance toward the front, remember:

It’s not where you sit, but how you show up that truly defines you.