SKIN TAG explores the complexities of identity, belonging, and cultural assimilation. The piece reflects the lived experience of navigating the space between native heritage and the mainstream American identity, an experience commonly shared among children of immigrants and Filipinx-Americans. The piece aims to capture the feeling of being overlooked or unchosen. SKIN TAG challenges the labels or tags we bear, the layers of difference that shape how we see ourselves and how others see us. Through this work, I ask: How do you see the world through your eyes, and how does that differ from mine?

Self-consciousness is often seen as a developmental phase—something we go through, learn from, and ideally grow beyond. But for many Filipinx-Americans, the feeling of not fitting in and existing outside the cultural norms can persist well into adulthood. The questions—How am I seen? What they think of me? Do I really belong here? —are constant, shaping our interactions and often defining how we navigate both Filipinx and American spaces. We may find ourselves adjusting to blend into predominantly white or mainstream American environments, compensating for the perceived differences that come with our cultural background. In these spaces, we put on these masks that allow us to function and feel accepted, hoping to avoid the sting of being "othered." Yet, no matter how well we assimilate, there’s always the nagging feeling that we are never fully seen for who we truly are.

This internal tension often leads us to believe that our difference — the way we look, the food, the cultural practices — becomes the first thing people notice. It’s a label others assign to us, and it can feel like the thing they remember most. Sometimes, this is true. But often, it’s not. The real struggle lies in the fact that we can never be sure. Once we internalize the judgments of others, we shift from thinking about ourselves to imagining how we are perceived in those moments. This shift makes self-consciousness a form of self-sabotage, because now we see our difference before anyone else does. Our identity becomes a burden, a tag or label that others may or may not even notice. We can feel as though we’re constantly carrying the weight of two worlds — straddling the Filipinx and American identities, always aware that we may have to think harder to navigate spaces where others simply exist without the same burden.

I hope to create a space where we can confront these layers of difference and begin to shed them, allowing us to find a more authentic and unburdened sense of self that isn’t defined by how we’re seen but by who we are.

Adie San Diego, Choreographer