Kuwentong Bangtan: Honoring Fan Loyalty While Holding Space for Respectful Co-existence

ARMY has always had a complex, evolving relationship with multistans (I say this from personal experience as well as initial studies into fandom culture). And I still hold this truth: there’s no single, correct way to love BTS or your Kpop idols. Or both. And all of the above. Fangirling doesn’t have to follow a template. However, fandom culture can serve as a compass: a guide for how we care for and interact with one another, not a set of rules to police, control, use one’s fan group authority over members who express a different opinion, even dissent. We can co-exist by honoring each other’s space and recognizing the moments we come together in joy, memory, and meaning.

I deeply appreciate perspectives that highlight inclusivity and musical exploration. To say, “We’re ARMY, and we’re here to appreciate BTS’ music and others’, too,” is a valid and thoughtful stance. After all, art invites openness, and BTS themselves have never asked us to close our ears or hearts.

But here is where the complexity lies: being ARMY isn’t just about enjoying music. It’s an identity shaped by shared history, grief, joy, activism, and meaning-making. For many of us, choosing to stay rooted in BTS, especially in moments when it would have been easier to drift and stan other groups, wasn’t just preference. It was intention. It was love made active. And that choice, while never demanded, does hold value. It forms the core of a community that didn’t just survive BTS’ absence during enlistment, it grew, reflected, and remained.

That said, now that BTS has returned and the next era is beginning, with PTD On Stage Live as a marker of that transition, fan loyalty holds a renewed kind of weight. It’s not about exclusion or elitism. It’s about continuity. BTS’ legacy was built through years of shared dedication and ARMY’s loyalty has been key in preserving their story, especially during the enlistment period when silence could have meant abandonment and erasure.

So when some ARMYs express what seems like protectiveness, or even gatekeeping, it often comes from a place of history and love. From the effort it took to keep streaming alive, to organizing community projects, to simply showing up even when it was hard. That labor mirrors the love and sacrifice BTS has poured into us over time.

Yes, there’s space to love others. But there’s also something beautiful and worth naming about fans like us, ARMY who held the line, and are now ready to march again as this new chapter opens. In this moment of return, may we honor both the openness BTS inspires and the loyalty that kept the light on while they were away.

Apobangpo! Purple and true!

PSA: Baha Na. Maging Handa.

 

Project Indigo Pottery Series: A collection shaped by grief, grace, and letting go.

Part of my ARMY Glow Up 2025, these pieces are an act of commitment and relational accountability that honors BTS’ message of perseverance and healing through hardship. Each bowl is a quiet offering, formed by hand and fired in memory, truth, and transformation.

The Elephant in the Room

Created on March 31, 2024, this is a quiet glazed offering to a friendship that slipped away without proper closure. It holds the ache of abandonment, the weight of being erased and the dignity of still choosing to care.

For Mama

A small bowl with a bird, made a week after we laid Mama to rest. It remembers her fire, her fight and the way grief flies in circles before landing softly.

Still Here

Two hearts pressed into clay, fragile, imperfect, and enduring. Shaped slowly in silence, this bowl holds what couldn’t be spoken in the days after goodbye.

#ArtForEveryone #ARMYGlowUp2025 #BabaE #WomenWhoCreate #HealingThroughArt #SMCitySantaRosa

Art for Evryone: BABA(E)

PBBY Workshop 2025: Reading for Resilience and Writing and Illustrating Children's Stories

 

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Kuwentong Bangtan: Beyond the Performance: Namjoon, Jin, and the Soft Power of BTS

Namjoon and BTS spoke at the United Nations. He and the 6 of them conversed with a sitting U.S. president; he delivered the speech infront of the press at the White House. But after his military enlistment, his first public speech wasn’t on a global stage. It was at his stylist’s wedding. And yet, the weight of this moment remained. This event and his presence, with Hoseok and Yoongi, speak of community, civic duty, and the sacredness of public service. His words, tender and weighty, remind us that leadership isn’t always tough. It can be tender. Sometimes, it’s intimate. Chosen. Intentional.

And then, there’s Jin, our Worldwide Handsome who stood onstage in Anaheim, worried that his culture might not resonate with a foreign audience and I-ARMYs. But when the audience sang with him, laughed with him, loved with him, he said it plainly: “You are my culture… my world revolve(s) around you.” Our Worldwide Handsome is our Worldwide Ambassador.

Sexy personas and thirst traps are industry staples, almost expected in the world of K-pop. But BTS has never settled for just what’s expected. Again and again, they step beyond the frame, choosing meaning, integrity and connection.

BTS is BTS. No one else compares.

Yes, we swoon. We giggle in our delulu. We clutch on our pearls. We are women and we have desires no matter how young or old.

But we also witness.

We honor.

And we grow.

So why reduce them to fantasy? Why contain them in a frame of performance built for consumption?

This is BTS. Artists. Storytellers. Citizens. Sons. Friends.

They are people. And so are we. All of us.

Apobangpo. Purple and true.

National Children's Book Day 2025

 

Imagination Fills the Air: Imagine! Read Children's Books

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The Lighthouse Diary Entry #76: My Personal Code of Use for ChatGPT: Working with AI in Integrity, Creativity, and Compassion

Modeling responsible AI use is a powerful form of digital citizenship. In my context as a librarian, bibliotherapist, educator, and fan community member, it’s more than policy to practice. It is  formation.

1. I will use ChatGPT as a collaborator, not a crutch. I affirm that my voice, insight, and experience are primary. AI can support my clarity and output, but it will not replace my discernment, values, or lived knowledge. 

2. I will protect the privacy of people in my care. When working on bibliotherapy stories, student support materials, or community narratives, I will anonymize names and details, and I will never upload sensitive personal or medical data. 

 3. I will use AI to strengthen my advocacy, not compromise it. Whether I'm crafting workshop materials or writing about fandom justice, I commit to using ChatGPT to amplify truth, care, and dignity—not to dilute or sanitize uncomfortable realities. 

 4. I will fact-check and attribute. For any citations, lyrics, research, or shared ideas, I will verify sources and acknowledge creators. AI-generated responses will be cross-checked and revised before being used in public platforms. 

 5. I will remain reflective about the power and limits of AI. I understand that ChatGPT is trained on vast, sometimes biased datasets. I commit to questioning, rewording, and reframing outputs that may reinforce colonial, ableist, or extractive thinking. 

 6. I will honor my process and my pauses. Not every question needs an immediate answer. I will use silence, solitude, and community check-ins alongside my digital tools. I trust my pace and my rhythms.

Heart and Seoul Travel Log: Food for the Soul Series 1 Entry #5 A Visit to Otsu Seiromushi: Black Pork, Floating Rocks, and Quiet Joys

On the evening of our second day in Seoul, we made our way to Otsu Seiromushi, the restaurant owned by Jin’s brother. Tucked inside a building in a business district in Seoul, the place was ready for our group to be accommodated. There was quiet excitement in the air.

When we were seated, we began with small servings of starters: a cold plate of sashimi and seasoned appetizers. The grilled Jeju black pig arrived soon after, and it was impeccable: greaseless, tender, and not charred at all. For a grilled meat dish, it looked and tasted healthy. I couldn’t help but compare it to the lechon black pig (a.k.a baboy ramo) I tasted during the PASLI Conference last April at the IRRI in Silang, Cavite. That version had subtle flavors of salt and tanlad. This one, however, was more refined. Thinly sliced, just one strip flavored the palate entirely.

The plate of sashimi was another star on the menu. Just like the grilled pork, it tasted fresh and clean. The tuna melted in the mouth, and there was a kind of discipline in the dish that made you want to eat with reverence. It made me want to take only what I could muster and consume; nothing wasted.

My favorite, though, was the oden-style soup with fish cakes and tofu. It was warm, comforting, and nourishing. I’ve been craving soup lately, perhaps due to my changing hormones as I enter menopause, and this bowl hit the spot. The warmth was bracing, the tofu made it even more comforting, and the elegantly wrapped fish cake pouches added depth and texture. This wasn’t just soup. It was a hug in a bowl.

Some of my companions ordered IGIN, the alcoholic drink that Jin himself helped develop. Even Zoe got a glass. I didn’t. Like Hoseok, I have low alcohol tolerance, but I appreciated the joy of everyone toasting and sharing this experience together.

What stood out just as much as the food was the installation art in the middle of the restaurant. It featured large rocks that seemed to float in mid-air, reflected in still water below. I remembered what Yoongi once said in an interview: “I wouldn’t mind being resurrected as a rock” (not in full quotation). It was a funny comment, but in that moment, looking at the quiet stones, it felt profound.

Rocks are silent. Steady. Enduring. They don’t need to prove anything to exist. They simply are. And maybe that’s what makes them strong.

That meal and that moment gave me pause. I was grateful to be there, with my daughter, with fellow ARMYs eating thoughtfully, sharing stories and getting to know each other a little more beyond our online personas. It was about tasting new flavors and appreciating the stillness, the artistry of the food and the community being built personally; relationally in a fandom space where we are often judged as nothing but screaming teenagers.

Let them. This is our joy. We earned it. It is sacred.

Truly Teena Ordoño, thank you for this well curated ARMY Tour package!

Kuwentong Bangtan: Who is BTS in our lives?

On ARMY Day, I reflect with gratitude on a journey that began with my ARMY daughter and BTS. For me, it has always reached beyond music; beyond the Purple ocean or universe. From day one, transcendence was apparent. It was already in motion. Not during the enlistment era or after, when all members have all been discharged. For who in Kpop would dare reference Omelas and Snow Piercer in a song of loss, longing and emancipation?

At the 4th BTS Conference in the University of Malaya, I had the honor of standing among scholars and fellow aca-fans who continue to explore what BTS means in our lives. For many of us, BTS was not just a gateway into K-pop and newer music or transmedia storytelling. BTS was, and still is, a lifeline. Their music helped us heal. It gave language to our silences. For some, it even became a form of decolonization, a path toward reclaiming joy, self-worth, and belonging.

It has been my lived experience. It was never about image or optics. It was speaking one’s truth, and holding power and accountability for myself and others I hold in high esteem. And having one’s own understanding of this dynamic, parasocial it may be, is the pre-requisite for realignment.

Before we can realign our purpose as ARMY, we must first ask: Who is BTS in our lives? Not just as artists, (and in delulu moments, partners even lovers; in worst cases, commodities we can simply consume) but as companions, teachers, mirrors, and catalysts. Our answers to that question shape the kind of fandom, fanbase or fan group we choose to build, one rooted in authenticity, reflection, and care.

ARMY as a fandom has changed in the last three years; and so are the Tannies and the industry they disturbed and helped change. Newer entry points into K-pop will continue to emerge, and we welcome them. But they also remind us that BTS’ story is still unfolding. And so is ours. ARMY. Whatever this is going to look like or will be, our history and culture which began back in 2013 can become pins of light. Whatever this will bring us, I am here for the ride.

Finally, I honor Zoe, who, to this day is still surprised I became ARMY. A story I will never tire of telling. And of course, much love and appreciation to the Tita ARMYs who are my companions in this ever-evolving journey. We may not all be published or cited as Bangtan scholars, but we have done the quiet, steady work of remembering, creating, caring, and holding space.

You know who you are. Happy ARMY Day! Borahae!

Zarah Gagatiga 7.10.25

One Happy ARMY on ARMY Day!

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42nd NCBD Workshops: Bibliotherapy, Writing for Children and Illustrating for Kids

 

Heart and Seoul Travel Log: Food for the Soul Series 1 Entry #3 Snacks, Stopover, and Sisterhood

After our exhilarating visit to the filming site of In the Soop in Pyeongchang, we stopped at what looked like a small mall, a kind of rest area where tourists could stretch, snack, and breathe before the long drive back to Seoul. There, we unwrapped our packed sandwiches. They were simple but satisfying. I especially loved the orange and berry juice that came with it, bright, tart, and refreshing.

At the same stop, we bought coffee and corn ice cream, yes, that corn ice cream Jungkook ate in an episode of Run BTS, during the Telepathy Game, while waiting in the car. The vanilla-corn flavor was a treat, but it was the crunchy wafer shell that gave it its reason for being. Sweet, airy, and just a little bit nostalgic.

I was already full, but one of our Tita ARMYs came by with a big plastic bag of rice pops. Shaped like a disc, it reminded me of the kropek chicharon my Nanay Leony used to sell in her sari-sari store back when I was a wee little girl. I would dip the kropek in vinegar with plenty of onions and garlic. Ah! I can still remember the sound of crackling chicharon! Then, I would wash it down with Pop Cola or Sarsi.

This rice pop, however, commonly known as dalkomhan bungtteok, was a sweet surprise. Smothered in pink sugar bits, it was chewy, not crunchy. A stark contrast to my childhood chicharon: this one didn’t snap or sizzle. It lingered. And yet, both hold a place in my memory now: one from home, the other from a shared moment in Seoul.

I marvel at how food, though different across cultures, can bring people together through shared experiences. Despite the differences in taste, texture, or tradition, a sense of commonality exists. What’s more, eating with Tita ARMY friends, both old and new, became a bonding moment I truly cherish. We were once just acquaintances online, but in that moment, we were forging friendships and making memories to last a lifetime.

This is another aspect of the trip I am deeply grateful for. And for Zoe to witness this kind of sisterhood, rooted in kindness, laughter, and shared love for Bangtan, is given grace.

As we boarded the bus once more, I realized this stopover was more than a break, it was a bridge. Between generations, between strangers-turned-sisters, between flavors familiar and new. It was the sweetness of Jungkook’s favorite ice cream, the chewiness of pink-dusted rice pops, and the laughter shared under a Seoul sky. In these small moments, the extraordinary happens.

It's D9 towards the 42nd National Children's Book Day!

 

D10 to NCBD: Have a favorite children’s book that celebrates imagination?

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Seen at the Annual American Library in Philly!

 

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Kuwentong Bangtan: The Return Is the Ritual Reflections on BTS, Community and Why We Feel Safe

Last night, BTS went live on Weverse as seven. Their first group live after completing their military service. No fanfare. No flash. Just the seven of them sitting together: talking, teasing, and laughing like no time had passed. Our chaotic 7 whom we missed so much.

My daughter watched it and posted an edit she found on Tiktok showing the last live OT7 had in September 2022 and the one last night post-military. Her caption read: “It's like they never left.”

She’s right. That familiar rhythm; the way they lean into each other; listening in and taking a cue from a planned message for ARMY; the inside jokes; the tone of their voices when they’re together. It was all there. And it made so many of us feel "safe".

An ARMY in the comments said, “Why does this constancy always make me feel safe?” And I have been thinking about this all day-- on top of my online classes, a deadline to beat and a training manual to finish.

Maybe it’s because we’re so used to things shifting, especially now on social media where our digital lives are ruled by algorithms and AI. Things move so fast and change happens in a blink of an eye before we can even make sense of what has passed. In the same vein that fandoms and fanbase change. 

People leave. We get abandoned.

Trends rise and fall. We wonder where to anchor our beliefs.

But BTS? They show up. 

Even after everything. Even after the distance and the silence, they return, not just to the stage, but to us. And that kind of showing up is rare.

ARMY, we all saw them last night-- and in succeeding posts of ARMYs and fans, form translations, clips, memes and reactions. They are returning strong and transformed, but comforting and familiar. Like nothing has really changed.

My daughter continued the conversation and added something she read online: “The price of community is inconvenience.” That line stayed with me because it is true, but, there is a nuance to it. Community isn’t effortless. It means choosing to be present. It means communicating and articulating honestly that things are changing. That at some point, people will pause and keep silent. And in the downtime, there are those in the fanbase who chose to stay with BTS while in conscription. It’s not easy. Even when you're tired or busy or uncertain, joining the live, commenting, streaming, defending, celebrating. These are all part of this quiet work of being together.

The thing is, ARMYs are not just fans consuming content. We’re participants in something built over years. Being part of ARMY means giving time, attention, care. And in a world where hyper-individualism is often rewarded, choosing community, choosing to show up, can feel like rebellion.

The conversation continues when an ARMY chimed in, saying: “Good thing we can do both! My individual-ness might not be able to take it.” And there’s the beauty of it, we can do both. We don’t have to erase ourselves to be part of something bigger. BTS shows us that. Their bond isn’t about sameness, it’s about connection. It grows and changes, but it doesn’t disappear. It evolves, and yet, somehow, stays the same.

That’s duality. And it’s comforting.

With BTS and ARMY, it is not the spectacle or the performative fangirling that is already a stereotype among Kpoppers-- no offense meant. What holds BTS and ARMY are the rituals that have been built overtime. Not the comebacks but the returns. Jin performing live a day after discharge and hugging 1,000 ARMYs. Hoseok allowing Jin to sing Spring Day with him on 613. JK being present for 2Seok in Jamais Vu. And Yoongi, donating millions for the care of children in the spectrum. The live last night felt like home because they have always been with ARMY through two years of being away in the military.  

And the joy ARMY felt? It’s not just from new music of Jin and Hoseok or the big announcements of an album and a world tour. It’s in the rhythm of presence. In the trust we’ve built, slowly, over years.

The return is the ritual. And in that, we are never really lost. We never walk alone.