The Link, June 26, 2026
Ethan Albert B. Lim
Before “Sharmaine” ever rolled off the tongue of millions, it was nothing more than a fleeting joke—a playful invention born from humor, curiosity, and perhaps a quiet longing to rename the ordinary. Names, after all, are never merely labels. They are vessels of meaning, identity, and intention. To name something is to shape how it is seen and understood.
Let’s say you were given the task of naming the fruit orange. What would you have called it instead? It’s funny to think about for a moment; we don’t call an apple “red” or a mango “yellow”. In fact, there are more than a billion possible names—perhaps even a trillion—we could have given to an orange, but we decided to name it as it is. Looking back, the name that it was given doesn’t seem well thought out—does it?
Or perhaps, if we stretched our imagination a little further, we could name everything around us in ways that are personified, and feel strangely familiar. Our student planners could be “Atlas,” named after a bound collection of maps, charts, or tables that guide and organize information much like how we navigate our own daily paths. Our daily attendance records could be “Tardy,” our tumblers could be “Patrick,” and our deadlines could be “Tomorrow,” always waiting just ahead of us, reminding us of what is yet to be done. In the same way, even the names we assign to things begin to shape how we perceive them, blurring the line between what something simply is and what we choose to make it mean.
Yet names, no matter how arbitrary they may seem, carry one’s very own identity and personality. They ripen over time, soaking in culture, history, and meaning—much like fruit basking under the sun. A name can define, but it can also transform.
Recently, a TikTok skit by Filipino content creator BAETT recently went viral, featuring an orange that was fed up because it was named after its color and not given much thought; however, it sparked the idea of giving itself the name—Sharmaine. Now, imagine if you were to come across your local supermarket or perhaps binge-watch some of your favorite TV shows, you might see that oranges were now being referred to as Sharmaine—unbelievable, right? The meme spread rapidly across the Filipino community, leading to local vendors, supermarkets, and even companies to briefly play along by renaming their products and franchises from orange to Sharmaine to participate in the trend. What makes the trend so fascinating is that what seemed like a light-hearted joke had influenced thousands of people. Within days, calling oranges “Sharmaine” became the new norm, even if it was only for the moment.
At first glance, the idea of oranges being named after their color completely sounds reasonable. After all, oranges are orange, so it’d make sense to assume that the fruit was named after the color. However, unbeknownst to most people, orange was the name of the fruit for centuries, long before the color was even born. After that single joke went viral, many accepted the joke’s assumption of the fruit being named after its distinct color, and barely anyone batted an eye. Thus, it is ironic to say that history tells us the exact opposite story—the color orange was actually named after the fruit, not the other way around. However, the joke was still compelling enough that thousands of people played along and briefly accepted using Sharmaine as the fruit’s new name.
Across history, a change in name has often signaled something deeper, perhaps a turning point or a shift in direction. Figures have stepped into new names as they stepped into new purposes, leaving behind one chapter and embracing another. Even leaders such as the pope, when elected to the papacy choose a new name to reflect the role and mission they are about to undertake. In papal tradition, this choice often draws from predecessors who embody certain ideals; for instance, Pope Leo XIV who took the name “Leo” recalls the legacy of Leo XIII, whose teachings on social justice and modern engagement with society continue to shape the Church’s voice in the contemporary world, suggesting a renewed era of dialogue between tradition and modernity. A name, then, is not just what we are called—it is who we are becoming. A name, then, is not just what we are called—it is who we are becoming.
And so, “Sharmaine,” though born from jest, becomes something more—an illustration of how easily identity can be reshaped, how swiftly perception can be sweetened or altered, like fruit dipped in honey. It reminds us that names can be peeled back, redefined, and shared until they take on a life of their own.
Despite how ridiculous this may sound, these seemingly trivial internet jokes we come across serve as a gentle reminder of how people can be easily influenced, especially when presented in front of a renowned person, adopt new information, and spread it without even questioning its source. Thus, in a world where misinformation spreads faster than ever, we too must keep our eyes peeled.
As we open and move towards a new school year, let us carry this lesson with us—not just to question what we hear, but to be mindful of what we name, what we claim, and what we allow to define us. For like the humble orange—whether we call it by its given name or dress it anew as “Sharmaine”—what truly matters is not the name it bears, but the substance it holds within. May we not be so easily swayed by every passing flavor of thought, but instead grow rooted, discerning, and rich in truth, bearing not just sweet words, but fruit that lasts.
Carry on your own Sharmaine—a renewed you, with a new sense of self, and embrace the growth that comes with seeing yourself and the world differently.