Daniel Torres Balauro ’23
Spring 2021
Over the past several years, the world has seen a proliferation of scholars in the field of migration studies. One of these scholars is “Irma,” a 44 year-old Filipino woman specializing in women’s migration and globalization. For Irma, this subject matter stems beyond curiosity, but rather is one deeply rooted in personal experience. In an hour-long virtual interview, Irma shares with me her own migratory experiences (from the Philippines to Hong Kong to the United States), interpretation of belonging and identity salience, all while discussing concepts like labor market segmentation and deportability — demonstrating the interconnectedness of personal experiences and academic research.
Theorizing a Life History
“I don’t think I’m like a perfect interviewee…” ‘Irma’ says to me, laughing as she reminisces upon her own experiences interviewing migrant women in Hong Kong. “I’m already… sort of like building on theory, like I’m theorizing my life history.”
The past several years have seen a worldwide proliferation of scholars in the field of migration studies. One of these scholars is Irma, a 44 year old Filipino woman born in Manila, Philippines. Irma is a professor at a prestigious university, specializing in women’s migration and globalization. As the daughter of a domestic worker in Hong Kong and as a migrant worker herself, she describes her research interest as inspired partly, “because I wanted to understand my mother’s decision to leave me behind in the Philippines when I was a child and her experiences in Hong Kong. Because of my research, I have a better appreciation of the sacrifices she made.”
For Irma, the subject of migration is nothing new, but one deeply rooted in personal and intergenerational experience. In an hour-long virtual interview, she shares with me her own migratory experiences (from the Philippines to Hong Kong to the United States), interpretation of belonging and varying salience of social identities, all while discussing concepts like labor market segmentation and deportability — demonstrating the interconnectedness of her personal experiences with academic research.
I got interested in researching women’s migration partly because I wanted to understand my mother’s decision to leave me behind in the Philippines when I was a child and her experiences in Hong Kong. Because of my research, I have a better appreciation of the sacrifices she made.
On Becoming a Migrant
Irma’s migratory experience starts at an early age — describing herself as an “internal migrant before [becoming] an international migrant.” “I was born in Manila. I lived in Palawan and then I moved to Batangas, when my mother died. Then, I moved to Manila again to study in high school, and then also to attend college.”
“Growing up, I had no plans to leave,” she says, attributing this lack of expectation to move to her experiences as a young orphan, understanding how vastly unpredictable life can be. It was at the age of 17 that these plans changed, as she decided to move in with her aunt in Hong Kong: “The impetus for my move was in many ways, financial. But at the same time, there was sort of a sense of adventure for me.” She describes her experience in Hong Kong as “defining,” stating that: “Being in Hong Kong, the only job available to me — because I didn’t speak Cantonese and no college degree — was to work in the restaurant industry, to work as a janitor, to work as a waitress. That was humbling…but I think it also really birthed the seed of brewing rage that I was stuck or forced to be stuck in that kind of work life.”
Irma shares with me an interaction with her and an American customer who claims that she is “too smart” to be a waitress. Reflecting back, she adds, “I didn’t really think about it, but thinking back, it’s really a comment that comes from a position of innocence…I would’ve wanted to go to school, but, you know, I couldn’t, and it’s not because I chose to not do it, but because there were barriers that I encountered.”
A couple years after the interaction, she decides to move to the United States.
The decision to advance her education in the United States instead of returning to the Philippines was one due to a “shame of quitting school,” Irma describes. “My college schoolmates at that point finished college. And I didn’t want to go back as a non-traditional student to the Philippines and be 24 being surrounded by 16-year-olds studying again. Going back to the US was one of the few options I was considering. I was fortunate enough that I met my dad…who was like, Oh, okay. I abandoned you while you were growing up. Let me make up for it and send you [to] college.”
On Being in the United States
Supported by family in the United States, Irma eventually attends college as a F-1 student at her father and sibling’s alma mater — a college located in the Pacific Northwest. She reflects upon this opportunity stating, “I think there’s something to be said about the reason why I’m in the US… I had not only social capital, like I had a social network, but also because I think in many ways, I also had some financial capital that enabled me to migrate to these places.”
Yet, it would be remiss to claim that her experiences came without challenge and a shift in perspective.
Irma describes the challenge as a migrant as a constant “state of uncertainty.” She recounts a moment during her activism years in college at around the events of September 11, where she thought to herself, “Oh shoot, what if the state sees me doing this activism and I get deported for my activism?” She shares that this persistent feeling of uncertainty was always “tied to the conditionality of [her] stay in these places,” describing this as another challenge, while teaching me the term, deportability.
Irma’s migration to the United States always sparked a shift in perspective within her in many ways. Taking an ethnic studies class as part of her GenEd requirements, she described putting a name to racism for the first time, and now a more critical lens into race relations.
“I experienced [racism] in Hong Kong, but I didn’t have the language for it. And I felt like Filipinos were living a good life in the US and from that class, I learned that it’s not necessarily the case. I learned about the histories of the Manongs in the 1920s. I learned about Filipinos who were in Hawaii, early in the 20th century. Then I learned about the US empire. I thought the US was sort of like our benevolent father, you know, it was like offering opportunities for Filipinos.”
When asked about her experiences as a Filipino in the United States, Irma laughs as she recollects her memories. She shares facing many instances of being misrecognized as another race: I went to a conference during my first year in Oregon…[where] I heard the cashier talking about how small Mexicans are, and this is in relation to me and some of my friends who were all Asians. That person assumed that we were Mexicans. I think this is the process of racialization in the US. I’m read as Asian, but misrecognized in many ways, that sometimes I’m read as Latina. She shares that this process of racialization follows even to this day, often being stereotyped as a nurse.
Reflecting upon these moments, I ask Irma: Do you feel like the United States is welcoming to immigrants? Demonstrating her academic side, she prefaces this question saying, “The way that I’m answering all these questions, which is something to consider… I’m answering these questions because my memory and my recollection and my narrative about myself as a migrant is also shaped by the fact that this is what I study.”
Irma begins by providing an empirical example of her cousin who took approximately 20 years to move to the country, and reunite with her family. Then, she contrasts it to her experience applying for a green card after marrying her spouse, and the ease with which that took. “What I’m saying is that the US is increasingly difficult for particular types of migrants, but it is also somewhat easy for specific types of migrants,” thinking about her position as an academic and marriage to a US citizen. “That’s the long winded answer to: no, not welcoming, but if you have money then it’s an easier route.”
On Identity & Belonging
What’s your idea of a home?
“I have no conception of home, but I have a perception of what it means to be settled.” Informed by a long history of migration and being orphaned at an early age, Irma adds, “Home is not necessarily about a place; it’s about the people.” As an academic, she is secured with a life of itinerancy, guided by the pursuit of her career.
Just last year, approximately 17 years later, Irma officially became a US Citizen
Did it change how you thought about yourself or about your status in the country?
“Yes. [C]itizenship is embodied. Like you feel it when you cross borders, like you can sense that there is a different feeling when you’re a citizen coming back to the US, you know that this passport will guarantee that you can return to the US.” Comparing her experiences as a migrant, even with a green card, she explains that there is a shift that no longer makes you feel “uncertain” and now, a kind of security.
Asked whether or not this changed her identity, Irma shakes her head and says, “No. Like when I introduce myself, I always say, I’m Filipino, even now I don’t say Filipino-American.” She explains that she sees identity in a fluid postmodern way. “Depending on spaces, I introduce myself differently. Some identities matter in certain spaces or certain times more than others. So today, I am a Filipino migrant being interviewed by you. And when I answer your questions, I become a professor sometimes. So, the identity has shifted.”
Final Thoughts
At the end of our conversation, Irma explains that her experiences in many ways were not only a very gendered one, but also one deeply rooted in class. She shares that the latter, in fact, will be her next research project.
Like many migrants, Irma brings with her a complex of experience, passions, and qualities. It is precisely these parts of life that inform and motivate her to continue learning and writing about the rich lives that fellow migrants hold. My interview with Irma depicts a story of an individual deeply inspired by years of personal history and intergenerational sacrifice.