Our May Day Tribute to the Working Woman
(Last of Two Parts. Excerpts from Marivir Montebon’s memoir Biting the Big Apple, www.justcliqit.com)
“We must erase the myth that immigrants are better off. Life here is so hard. It takes a lot of guts and courage to be able to live here. I believe that faith and hard work make immigrants survive in the US. Otherwise, you will go crazy.”
– Menchu, a teacher who was denied her Green Card petition she was promised by the school she worked for.
And there is Menchu, a friend I seldom see, but whose honesty I firmly believe.
Menchu is a teacher who was among some other 1000 Filipino teachers at the Prince George’s County in Maryland, whose life had been on the line after her professional visa ended after five years of service. The County made no petition for permanent residence in the US.
The life of an immigrant is hard. Faith and hard work make immigrants survive in the US: Menchu (Artwork by June Pascal)
I felt like they and their families were melted candles in the face of uncertainty. Following up on the progress of their struggle for tenure had been emotionally grueling for me. I saw it as utterly unfair. The most human and practical thing for the county to do was to tell the teachers to get another job about two years before their visas could expire, because it could not afford to petition the entire army of teachers they have painstakingly recruited and uprooted from the Philippines.
It was only a year before their visas expired that the teachers realized there was no way they could be petitioned for their green cards.
As her colleagues took to the streets in the screeching heat of summer in Washington, DC, demanding reinstatement to their jobs, Menchu was in the frenzied marathon for a new job in the busy streets of Manhattan.
Summer time was panic time for her in 2011.
“It is not our fault,” the placards of teachers say.
Truly it is not, the teachers are the victims here.
At stake was not only Menchu’s emotional and economic health, but also that of her family. She has seven dependent children, and losing her job is the one last thing that should happen.
The Department of Labor ruled in the summer of 2011 that the PG County’s public schools willfully violated the H1-B programs that grant the teachers their working visas in the US. In effect, the County has been barred from hiring foreign teachers and been given a fine of $100,000. About 1000 Filipino teachers were affected by the decision.
“The County and the Labor Department are doing this, as if lives are not at stake here,” Menchu said.
On several occasions, the teachers gathered at the Philippine Embassy in Washington, DC, to explore possibilities on how to maintain their statuses despite the very limited time to act.
In early 2000, several states in the US recruited teachers in the Philippines for its public school system. These included Maryland, Louisiana, and New York.
Menchu was recruited in 2003 by the New York Department of Education. At that time, she was a Math teacher at the St. Sebastian National High School for ten years. She paid an outright processing fee of $4000 and $2000 placement fee.
“I was excited at that time. I never really planned it. I was only invited by my co-teacher who was to be interviewed for the job in the US. My husband and I decided to get the job because we saw it as an opportunity,” Menchu recounted.
It was in the autumn of 2005 that Menchu came to the US. “The plane was so packed with teachers who were recruited for the east coast, there were seven of us who had to take the flight one day later,” she said.
Menchu left behind her six children to her husband Ric (the 7th was born in the US), who was a truck driver of a huge agricultural food processor in Mindanao.
In New York, her nightmare as a teacher has already begun.
“You fight for your dignity everyday as a teacher. It is so much sacrifice to be a teacher in the US. You are so far away from your family, and the teenage children are hard to deal with. They would never listen to you. It is an every hour, every minute stress,” she explained.
After working at two middle schools at the Bronx, Menchu moved to the PG County in 2008. Her husband and children followed her in 2007. Although she felt a lot more peaceful that her entire family was at last intact, the trade off was the high cost of living.
Menchu said it was crazily expensive to maintain two houses, one for her at the PG County and the other for her family in New York. The bills were too enormous. In the early months since the family arrived, they were all together in one small apartment in Maryland. But the place was too cramped and not conducive to growing children, so they decided to let the children live in New York.
“At the end of the month, there were no savings left because on top of all the expenses, I still had to pay off my loans for coming here. I realized, living in the Philippines and the US, are practically just about the same, except for food, which is the only cheap commodity here,” she said.
Parenting young immigrant teenagers was a tough job as well.
Oftentimes, their nightly prayers turned to be a confrontational meeting between Menchu, Ric and their teenage children.
“It was tough to take care of our teenage children in the US. Two of them had to succumb to peer pressure in school, which was alarming to me. I think it was the most difficult of all the challenges; I almost had a nervous breakdown dealing with all these. But I am grateful they have all passed that stage,” said Menchu.
For Ric, parenthood is leadership by example, so that the children will eventually go back to righteous ways. “If the children see that their parents are working hard and treating them with respect and encouragement, they will straighten up,” Ric explained.
While their family may be envied by friends and family who are left behind in the Philippines, Menchu outrightly describes that life in the US is difficult.
“We must erase the myth that immigrants are better off. Life here is so hard. It takes a lot of guts and courage to be able to live here. I believe that faith and hard work make immigrants survive in the US. Otherwise, you will go crazy,” she said.
A strong support system of friends, church members, and community made life a little easier for them.
During those bleak moments in her life, Menchu held on to her faith. She applied for a job as a teacher in New Jersey and had been promised to be petitioned for permanent residency. She is keeping her fingers crossed that this time her employer won’t fail her, since it was three months before her visa was to expire.
Indeed, faith has moved mountains. One month before she became off status, Menchu’s new school employer filed the petition to sponsor for her green card. She has availed of the services of my immigration lawyer, who acted swiftly on the very narrow time left for her to decisively take action.
For Menchu, everything was a test of faith. She said she was resigned to going home to the Philippines with the entire family if she didn’t find a new job fast enough. But indeed, miracles do happen in New York.
===========================================
Our May Day Tribute to the Working Woman
Cynthia: Escaping Slavery
(One of Two Parts. Excerpts from Marivir Montebon’s memoir Biting the Big Apple, www.justcliqit.com)
Cynthia worked as a servant-maid (that’s the exact job description) to a princess who is the second wife of the heir to the throne in a country in the Middle East. Without batting an eyelash, she declares, alipin ako duon. (I was a slave there).
Being a new immigrant myself, the issues on immigration are my closest reality. It was compelling to understand the nuances of immigration laws in the US, and it has often been an anxiety-filled emotional experience to know the harrowing stories of other immigrants.
One of the more sustaining friendships that I have developed since my early days in New York is with Cynthia (real name withheld), a housemate who once lived with me in my aunt’s house in Woodside.
In her 30s, she has gone through slavery in a castle of a royal family in the Middle East. By the help of her friends, she made her way to the US to escape the most demeaning of work conditions. I have no reason to complain about my own travails as they pale greatly against hers.
Cynthia confided with me her harrowing life story at the kitchen in my aunt’s house, while we were preparing and sharing lunch together.
Her life is all about hard work and faithfulness. A mother of five, she is the main breadwinner of the family in Laguna. I see her work six straight days a week as a babysitter to two children of an affluent family who straddles the east side of Manhattan three seasons of the year and the Hamptons during summer.
A mother of five, Cynthia is the main breadwinner of the family in Laguna.
ML Kuker’s Magpaparos (shell gatherers).
Being enduring and patient, she has raised the affluent couple’s children since they were infants. She is loved by the parents of the children, who I believe have become so dependent on her and her disciplining ways. She has worked for this family for about nine years. Her previous employer had her for more than 10 years as well, until the children no longer needed a babysitter.
Her one day off, Cynthia goes to church or bible study or to shop. This has been her life for the past 20 years, dedicated to her family and faith.
Cynthia worked as a servant-maid (that’s the exact job description) to a princess who is the second wife of the heir to the throne in a country in the Middle East. Without batting an eyelash, she declares, alipin ako duon. (I was a slave there).
Cynthia told me that slaves inside the castle moved exactly the same way as I saw them in the movies. They stand straight and stare on the wall when the princess or any member of their family was around, until they are called for some command.
She was assigned to clean the princess’s enormous bedroom. The master maid would tell her to do her cleaning when the princess has transferred to another place in the palace. As the princess walks past her, it was protocol to bow her head and then go on with her chores.
Life in the palace was lonely and dangerous, Cynthia confides. Their hours for rest and eating were strictly limited. They could send letters to their families, but they never got their responses. Nor did they receive any communication from the outside world.
“Nakakatakot duon. Isang pagkakamali, puede ka mamatay, (It was dangerous there. One mistake could cause your death),” she said.
She remembered Mira, who had developed an affair with one of the male servants. Cynthia said she was whipped to death in the palace, and they never saw the male servant again. Part of the protocol was: what happened in the palace, stays in the palace.
Mira’s death gripped Cynthia in fear and made her decide that she must escape.
The princess, however, liked and trusted her because she carried on her work efficiently. She had become part of her retinue of maids that joined her in her trips to the US and Europe. Cynthia was assigned to carry the princess’s bag of jewelry every time they traveled.
When in New York, the princess stayed at the Waldorf-Astoria. For the three consecutive vacations that Cynthia had been staying in the hotel, she had no idea that they were booked in the city’s most expensive hotel.
The entire servant maids were given a break for shopping, which was always at K Mart. She also thought that K Mart was the largest department store in America.
She later realized and laughed at the irony of shopping at K Mart when they were billeted at the prestigious Waldorf-Astoria.
Cynthia had planned her escape the second time she came to New York, upon knowing that she has a neighbor from way back in Laguna, Grace, who lives in Long Island. She wrote to Grace and told her of her plans to see her when she is back on the next vacation schedule of the princess.
In 1984, when the princess went back to New York for another vacation, Cynthia made sure of her escape. While shopping in K Mart, she eluded the entire group and took a cab that brought her to Grace’s address in Long Island. She made sure that she brought with her some cash and her passport.
Grace was horrified by her story and most welcomed her friend to the house. Cynthia stayed with Grace, literally never getting out of the house, until finally she was sure that she was no longer being sought after by the security men of the princess.
Cynthia said that her picture was being publicly displayed at the JFK and La Guardia airports.
In Long Island, Cynthia tasted what it was to be free again. Her greatest reward was the fact that she was already able to communicate with her family in Laguna without restraint.
Grace proved to be Cynthia’s angel. She introduced her to a Jewish family who needed a babysitter. In the later months, the family stood as her employer-petitioner for permanent residency. Cynthia served the family for ten years, until the two children had grown.
Just like me, I realized Cynthia was born again in New York.
Cynthia tasted what it was to be free again. Her greatest reward was the fact that she was already able to communicate with her family in Laguna without restraint.
