HIP-HOP has never been my thing. Lauryn Hill just about sums up my hip-hop affinity. Lately, however, the genre has been getting a lot of attention, and it’s all because Ruby Ibarra won the NPR Tiny Desk Contest.
Now the NPR Tiny Desk Concerts, I’m a fan. It’s one of those foreign shows that got me hooked in the 2000s where artists come to sing live and the scene is intimate and raw. When I saw NPR Music’s announcement last month, my interest was piqued not only because Ruby Ibarra is Filipina—she was born in Tacloban City and grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area where her family moved in 1991 when she was four years old. Her winning song, “Bakunawa,” features lyrics in Tagalog, Bisaya, and English. In its 11-year history, the NPR Tiny Desk Contest has not chosen a song that is performed in three languages.
That was creative and brave. “Language is an important part of the culture,” Ibarra was quoted in the Center for Asian American Media. “I would have done an album a disservice if I had this project talking about the Filipino American experience and not include elements of Filipino language.” She was certainly unapologetic about making language central in her music. She explained to Vilcek Foundation that, “Language is a form of survival for a lot of immigrant families … I don’t owe it to anyone to provide a translation—the same way as when I came here to America with my family, we were expected to know, understand, and learn English immediately.” Instead of mere gimmickry, it speaks of values, striking at the core of an immigrant’s story, a Filipino’s tale, the freedom to speak one’s mother tongue.
Ibarra was fiery and confident on stage, at the Tiny Desk Concert. She introduced herself, “This immigrant is here. From Tacloban City, Philippines, all the way to Washington, D.C., my name is Ruby Ibarra.” She sang about resistance and “fighting against being erased” in “Bakunawa.” In “7,000 Miles,” reminiscent of “The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill,” she sang about her family’s plight as immigrants. In “Someday,” somehow reminding me of Hamilton’s “My Shot,” she sang about her mother who left her history as a cum laude accountancy graduate to take on odd jobs in America.
Consistent with her belief in paying it forward, she brought seven Filipino artists with her to the tiny stage including June Millington whose musical career started in 1965. “We can’t do this thing by ourselves,” she told Vouge in 2023. “That means hiring bandmates, stage managers, videographers in my community and opening the doors and telling them, ‘Let’s enter this space together.’”
To us in the Philippines, we might think that luck finally showed up for Ibarra. But she has been doing this, as a rapper and spoken word artist, for several years. In 2010, she wrote and performed “Who I Am” for the Pilipino Culture Night at the University of California, Davis where she was studying. She released her first album, “CIRCA91,” in 2017 including her favorite song, “Us”–a song used for the Women’s International Day and with its isang bagsak line would connect with developmental workers. She wrote and performed “A Thousand Cuts” upon the request of Ramona Diaz for the Maria Ressa documentary in 2020. Her own label was set up in 2023. And in between, her work was featured in commercials, video games, and TV shows.
And it looks like there’s more to expect from Ibarra. Achieving representation is certainly huge, but she doesn’t want to stop there, telling Hella Pinay that representation is “just the entryway for people to know about our community” and “it’s liberation and education that we need. It’s equipping our communities with the resources.”
It’s thrilling to hear her speak about education and helping open doors. To wield power, there has to be discourse about values and beliefs and building of communities. She is one tough Filipina, that Ruby Ibarra. Better listen up./PN
