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Writer's pictureLola Abrera

U.S. Election Night: Reflections on Racism's Cycles in America and Beyond


A collage depicting two paths—one dark and twisted, symbolizing hatred, and the other bright and welcoming, symbolizing inclusivity.
Two diverging paths: one of hatred, one of inclusivity—choose wisely.

As election night approaches in the U.S., I’m reminded of Donald Trump’s infamous quote: “They are eating the dogs, they are eating the cats.” On the surface, it’s a shocking statement that conjures images of desperation and savagery. Ironically, it has also become a meme and even a trending beat, which, for me at least, gives the perception that it has actually raised his popularity rather than damper it. Yet, beneath the sensationalism lies a darker truth about the cyclical nature of racism and the way marginalized communities have been dehumanized throughout history.


This isn’t merely a political issue; it’s a human one that connects us to the painful legacy of colonialism, forced migration, and systemic racism that indigenous Filipinos faced, especially during the St. Louis World’s Fair in 1904.



As a Filipino-American living in Berlin, I can’t help but reflect on how history tends to repeat itself, often at the expense of marginalized communities. Though I’m far from the U.S., I’ve personally experienced and witnessed various forms of racism, microaggressions, and intolerance directed at myself and others. Berlin is my chosen home, yet I can sense the impending darkness closing in, particularly with the rise of the right-wing Alternative for Germany (AfD). The AfD has gained traction by promoting anti-immigrant sentiments and xenophobic rhetoric, echoing the troubling trends we see in various parts of the world. Much like Trump and his supporters, the AfD thrives on fear-mongering and scapegoating immigrants, promoting anti-immigrant and xenophobic ideologies that hark back to the same fears that fueled discrimination against marginalized groups.


This pattern of dehumanization isn’t a new phenomenon; it is starkly illustrated by the events of the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair, which showcased America’s imperial aspirations and perceived superiority. However, one of its most disturbing exhibitions was the Philippine Exposition, where indigenous Filipinos were put on display as “primitive” specimens. They were treated as curiosities, akin to animals in a zoo, stripped of their humanity for the entertainment of fairgoers. This exhibition was rooted in a colonial mindset that viewed the Philippines as a territory to be tamed and exploited, reflecting a pervasive belief in racial hierarchy.



To illustrate their so-called “primal nature,” many of these individuals were forced to perform demeaning acts, including the consumption of dogs and cats. While it’s true that some indigenous groups have historically included the consumption of various animals as part of their cultural rituals, what happened at the fair was grotesquely exploitative and stripped of any cultural context. This spectacle was not just a violation of their dignity; it served as a broader justification for the dehumanization and subjugation of Filipinos and other indigenous peoples. Such narratives continue to echo in today’s society, manifesting in both overt and subtle forms of racism.



Historical image depicting the Philippine Exposition at the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair, showcasing indigenous Filipinos on display.
A haunting reminder of the Philippine Exposition at the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair, where indigenous Filipinos were dehumanized and displayed as curiosities.

When the fair concluded, the reality for these Filipinos was grim. Left to fend for themselves in nearby towns, they faced rampant racism and hostility. News clippings from the time depicted them as threats, warning citizens to keep an eye on their pets—fearful that Filipinos would eat their dogs. This vilification was a direct consequence of colonial narratives that sought to depict Filipinos as less than human, reinforcing the systemic racism that still lingers in our society.





This history is not merely an artifact of the past; it serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of allowing hatred and fear to dictate our actions. As we reflect on these events during Filipino-American History Month, it becomes painfully clear that the issues of racism and migration are cyclical. They resurface in various forms, fueled by political rhetoric and the scapegoating of marginalized communities.


Voting for leaders who perpetuate these narratives—who dismiss the humanity of others in the name of political gain—is not just a mistake; it is a direct endorsement of history repeating itself. It’s a vote for hatred to prevail, for the dehumanization of others to become the norm once again.


We find ourselves at a critical juncture, faced with the responsibility to acknowledge the uncomfortable truths of our shared history. It’s essential that we engage in conversations that promote understanding and compassion, whether we’re reflecting on the experiences of indigenous Filipinos at the St. Louis World’s Fair or confronting the rise of movements like the AfD here in Germany. These events serve as reminders of the resilience within marginalized communities and the ongoing struggle against racism and hatred.


As we navigate today’s complexities, our reflections on Election Night and the cycle of racism urge us to remember the past and work toward a more inclusive future. In this moment, we have an opportunity to raise our voices against the persistent cycles of oppression that affect us all. It's about more than just remembering the past; it’s about actively shaping a future where every person is valued and treated with dignity—where no one is dehumanized or seen as less than human.


Let’s honor history by refusing to allow it to define our future...


In simplest of terms, well: Fuck Trump. Fuck the AfD.


Too blunt? Well, I'm just a savage after all aren't I?



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