Art for Everyone: BABA(E) Artist Collective

 

When Lea Salonga Said “I am a BTS Fangirl”: On Loving BTS, Fandom Identity, and the Weight of Belonging

I felt something in me stir. Joy, at first. Pride. The validation that comes when someone of her stature recognizes what many of us have long known: BTS is not “just another boy band.” They transcend genre, language, and category. They are movement, message, and meaning. But then I noticed something missing.

She didn’t say, “I am ARMY.”

And for those of us who live and breathe this identity, that difference matters. I did not feel offended. It wasn’t even disappointment. It was more like, alertness. A flicker of awareness that words hold weight, especially when spoken by public figures. Especially in fandom culture, where naming yourself is not just self-expression, but also a declaration of participation.

And Ms. Lea, gracefully and respectfully, chose not to declare. A very wise decision and gesture.

“BTS Fangirl” is Personal. “ARMY” is Communal. There is a quiet but powerful distinction between saying, “I’m a fan of BTS.” And “I am ARMY.”

The first is individual, even intimate. The second is a call to belonging. It ties you into a global network of memory, labor, joy, defense, and shared meaning-making. And perhaps Ms. Lea, in all her wisdom, knew that.

To be ARMY is not casual. It is not a trend. It is:

• Streaming with purpose.

• Voting with coordination.

• Staying through hiatuses, military enlistments, and misunderstood eras.

• Creating, curating, and caring not just for BTS, but for each other.

And maybe that’s why Ms. Lea didn’t claim it. Not because she isn’t sincere in her admiration, but because she understands that ARMY isn’t just a word. It’s devotion and a commitment.

I appreciate that she showed restraint. That refusal to casually claim what she hasn’t fully lived is a form of respect. Life is life-ing as it goes. And perhaps all she can do for now is truly appreciate, adore and go gaga over RPWP and the rest of the solo albums of BTS she mentioned in the interview. She is a BTS fan, and I love her for it.

In fandom, ethics exist and love can hold without appropriation. In a fandom ecosystem where parasocial intimacy is often mistaken for personal possession, and stan culture can pressure public figures into performative allegiance, Lea’s choice feels intentional and purposeful.

She loves BTS. That’s clear. She supports their work. That’s beautiful. But she didn’t insert herself into ARMY spaces with the entitlement of someone who has “earned” that title. This is admirable. In doing so, she models how to honor a group’s impact without overstepping the boundary of lived experiences of ARMY, collective or individual.

However, there are comments that missed this point. Someone responded on socmed to Lea’s quote by saying:

“She obviously hasn’t met this and that Kpop group yet.”

And that’s when my ache surfaced. Because the comment didn’t just suggest she was missing out. It subtly implied that her love for BTS was less valid, incomplete, even, simply because the comment hadn’t spread that love wider.

To those commenting with a multistan agenda, my question is this: what if depth matters more than width?

What if staying loyal to one group, through all their seasons is not about being closed off, but about being rooted? Not exclusion but grounding.

For some of us, BTS holds a sacred space in our lives. You may think of this as cultish but, no. What I mean is philosophical aesthetics. More on this in future posts.

BTS didn’t just catch our attention. They caught us in our grief, our becoming, our quiet hours of self-doubt. For fans like me, BTS is not just a band to admire. They are:

• The ones who held us.

• The voices that named what we couldn’t say.

• The bridge that connected us to generations past and present, thus, creating an intergenerational understanding.

• The reason we created, healed, and chose to stay.

To be ARMY is not simply to love BTS. It is to let that love shape your life. The thing is, there are many ways to be a fan.

I wrote and developed this essay not to draw borders or demarcation lines. Not exclusion. Not hate. Not elitism.

It’s about respecting thresholds. Recognizing differences and respecting it with transparency and “relational accountability”. You can be a casual listener, a dedicated fangirl, a multistan, a curious observer and all of those identities are valid.

But if you see someone not claiming ARMY, even when they clearly love BTS, maybe pause before assuming they’re lacking or anything else. Maybe, like Ms. Lea, they’re showing us what fandom ethics can look like: Loving fully, while knowing when not to claim what isn’t yours.

In the end, I don’t need Lea Salonga to say she’s ARMY. Her admiration is enough and it’s hers. And as for me? I’ll say it again and again:

I am ARMY. Not because I stan. But because I stayed. Because BTS met me first and those seven amazing artists never let me go. In the rhythm of that love, I reclaimed who I am at the autumn of my life. That despite this season of fall, Spring Day has stayed. It will never leave me, nor I.

I close this essay by saying that I have fully understood that one person who abandoned me and became a multistan. I can now look at a cohort of fans of BTS and smile at the way they fangirl. Because, that is who they are. As for me, with my ARMY Glow Up projects in full swing this year, and my AGU certificate of commitment offered at the old Big Hit Building, as witnessed by my ARMY Daughter and Tita ARMY friends last June 10, 2025, I have fully healed. In the end, Ms. Lea’s restraint helped me name my own belonging. I am not just a BTS fangirl. I am ARMY by experience, by acts of creation, by choice.

Thank you Ms. Lea Salonga, for your class and grace; your candor and love for music and BTS. Your interview and what you particularly said about fangirling was illuminating.

Thank you, BTS! Thank you, ARMY!

Apobangpo! Purple and true!

#ARMYGlowUp2025 #Festa2025 #ManyWaystoBeaFan #ARMYLife

Love, Liminality and Our Version of True ARMYing

 

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When Presence Feels Like a Gift: Navigating Ethics in Fandom Sharing

When BTS members Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi recently attended the wedding of their longtime stylist, the moment resonated with ARMY. It was our first time to see our Rap Line Kings in one frame. Besides, it was not staged or publicized, but precisely because it was real. A quiet gesture of loyalty, friendship and affection. Namjoon gave a heartfelt speech recorded on video by a fan-guest probably. He even shared photos on his IG story. Then the deluge of photos and video clips from guests and fans.

As these images circulated, a thoughtful question arose: How is this different from the airport or vacation photos that fans often condemn as stalkerish or invasive?

Both involve public sharing. Both involve BTS. But the intention, context, and ethics behind them are worlds apart.

Let’s unpack this moment through a fan’s lens, with care.

Consent Is the Cornerstone

Namjoon posted about the wedding. Namjoon gave us a clue and chose to let us in, if only briefly and on a private yet meaningful occasion. In doing so, he gave what we might call tacit consent. The images ARMYs reposted were celebratory and respectful, not sneaky or exploitative.

Contrast this with the photos taken at airports or on personal vacations: BTS isn’t posting. They’re not performing. They’re just being there, often exhausted, vulnerable, or on personal time. Such moments, when snapped and spread without consent, cross the line from admiration into surveillance.

Presence is not permission. Just because someone is visible does not mean they are public property.

The Spirit of the Share: Celebration vs. Consumption

There’s a difference between:

• Participating in a shared, affirming moment (like reposting wedding photos taken with affection), and

• Consuming content for clout or curiosity, without regard for the subject’s agency or humanity.

Wedding content felt like the former. It was relational. Rooted in care. Namjoon’s words at the wedding weren’t meant to go viral, but in the short clip shared by someone present, there was love, responsibility, and tenderness. It wasn’t stolen; it was witnessed.

On the other hand, vacation and airport paparazzi photos often strip away the idol’s voice. They commodify presence, feeding a content-hungry machine. Even if shared by fellow fans, the tone shifts from celebratory to possessive. From “with” to “at”.

Cultural and Fandom Contexts Matter

In Korean culture, weddings are sacred community events. This wasn’t just an errand or a pit stop. It was the wedding of a long-trusted stylist, someone who’s been with BTS through transformations and triumphs. Their presence spoke volumes: about loyalty, about found family, about being rooted in gratitude.

ARMY picked up on that. The mood online wasn’t “Look, I caught them!” It was “How beautiful it is that they showed up like this.”

When fans treat BTS sightings especially uninvited ones as trophies or conquests, we ignore that idols have the right to disappear, to breathe without cameras. That’s where fan culture needs to evolve, I think.

A Gentle Guide for Thoughtful Sharing

Whether you’re a seasoned ARMY or new to the fandom, here are five reflection questions to guide us all when sharing choices:

1. Did BTS (or their staff) share or signal willingness to share this moment? If yes, repost with care. If not, think twice.

2. Does this uplift the member or intrude on their privacy?

3. Would I feel proud showing this post to them face-to-face?

4. Am I sharing out of love, or just to be first?

5. Does this add warmth to the community, or stir controversy, gossip, or discomfort?

Because We’re Building Something Bigger

BTS didn’t just give us music. They gave us a model for intentional living. They remind us, again and again, that love is not passive. It is mindful. And fandom at its best, is a space of relational ethics, not just emotional attachment.

So when we ask, “What makes this different?” the answer is not about the photo itself. It’s about how we hold space for others, even when they’re global stars. The wedding was a glimpse of something sacred and our Leader Nim invited us to see it. That’s a gift.

May we remain fans who know the difference.

#AoBFanSafetyCampaign #FandomCare

#ARMYofBangtan

#ARMYGlowUp2025 #AGUCommunication

Imagination Fills the Air: Celebrating Craft and Stories for Kindness and Care

The PBBY Board at the Museo Pambata

This year’s National Children’s Book Day, held on July 15, 2025, invited us to breathe deeply into a theme that felt both timely and timeless: “Imagination Fills the Air.”

Hosted at the beloved Museo Pambata, the celebration honored the memory of Dr. Jose Rizal’s The Monkey and the Turtle, first published in Trübner’s Oriental Record in July 1889, an enduring reminder that Philippine children’s literature began with art, storytelling, bold imagination and the desire to leave a legacy through books and reading. After all, Dr. Jose Rizal's intent was for his nephews and nieces to enjoy the tales he retold.

The PBBY proudly awarded the Salanga Prize to Three Thimbles by Patricia Sy Gomez, the Alcala Prize to Tin Javier, and the De Jesus Wordless Book Prize to Rommel E. Joson. These stories and their creators remind us that stories can be powerful tools for healing, if not, remembering. Stories remain our anchors to our ability to wonder and champion justice. 

Crafting Stories, Cultivating Imagination: Our July 19 Workshop

Just a few days later, on July 19, I had the privilege of facilitating a bibliotherapy workshop at Museo Pambata as part of the extended NCBD celebration. Titled Reading for Resilience in the Age of AI it brought together aspiring authors, librarians, educators, and cultural workers who believe as I do, that storytelling is both an act of art and an act of service. Books become valuable companions, not just tools, in navigating a world that has become so complex with the rapid rise of technology. Trends and innovations move faster than we can make sense of what is happening. With Developmental Bibliotherapy, we can slow down and accompany young readers in a story where we can all be and become in our own pace and liminal space.

We are all full of wonder and hope!

We explored how children's books can shape emotional landscapes, affirm identities, and open difficult conversations about climate, loss, justice and sacred joy. Participants engaged in bibliotherapy-inspired exercises, sharing of their "why" read aloud and story theatre. 

The energy in the room was gentle, brave, and hopeful. And perhaps most moving of all were the moments of quiet sharing, when a line, a memory, or a character idea reminded us that children’s books are not just entertainment. They’re anchors. Bridges. Invitations.

Moving Forward

The vibe was further enriched, deepened and expanded by the workshops that followed. Dr. Luis Gatmaitan conducted a story writing workshop that allowed participants to think on their toes, to trust the creative process and tap into perception as avenues of developing craft. With Ivan Reverente, illustrator and INKie, participants had the pleasure of being provided the principles of visual literacy as conceptual anchors to book illustration, design and layout.

A quarter of the PBBY Board of Officers

The 52 participants who braved the heavy monsoon rain were stormed with ideas,  inspiration, positive influence and a warm welcome from the PBBY into the children's book industry. As we turn the page on this year’s celebration, I carry with me the reminder that stories don’t just fill the air. They fill hearts, rooms, and relationships. 

Thank you to the Philippine Board on Books for Young People, Museo Pambata, and every author, artist, and reader who continues to imagine a better world into being.

Here’s to the next story. Here’s to the children who will read it. Here’s to the care we pour into every word.

#NCBD2025 #ImaginationFillsTheAir #PhilippineChildrensBooks #StorytellingWithCare #MuseoPambata #PBBY

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