The way the language is being taught in the Philippines has become a minor scandal. For the rest of us, it's a reminder of just how tricky learning a language is.
By Ruth Walker
from the July 29, 2009 edition
http://www.csmonitor.com
Once in a while I run across something that makes me profoundly grateful to be a native speaker of English. It happened again the other day when I caught up with a report in The Economist about how the Philippines is losing its edge in English. The proportion of Filipinos who speak English, as well as their proficiency, has been on the decline for three decades, the magazine reports.
The fault lies clearly with English teachers, the article suggests. This snippet from a textbook for 8-year-olds is offered as Exhibit A: "The dog rolled on the floor so fast and fell on the ground. There he laid yelling louder than ever. The dog yelled on top of his voice."
With textbooks like this, is it any wonder that 9 out of 10 otherwise qualified Filipino applicants, most of them college graduates, get turned down by call centers because of their poor English?
The lay/laid error is bad enough in a book you'd expect to have been thoroughly nitpicked. Then there's a poor word choice. Dogs don't yell; they bark. The worst, though, was the idiom "on top of his voice."
The Filipinos' experience is a reminder what an idiosyncratic thing language is. The rules are real. A dog barking "on top of his voice" is truly wrong. No healthy, alert native speaker of English would say it. Not even one of the millions who don't know why "There he laid" is wrong.
But the rules are not always logical. And here's the killer, especially for those of us who wrangle other people's words for a living: The rules are, ultimately, what the people make them – even when the people are wrong.
I cheerfully plead guilty to being a prescriptivist. I believe that rules of language and grammar help us communicate, just as rules of the road help keep us safe in traffic. (I used to joke that I may be the last person alive to insist on "whom." I still say it, but nowadays it seems like less of a joke.)
But times change, usage changes, and suddenly the application of an old rule sounds quaint or even wrong. Like a GPS navigator scrambling after a driver has made a turn off course, the grammarians are left to recalculate their position.
The other day I was discussing with a friend a couple of longtime stalwarts of National Public Radio. When my friend referred to one of them as a "hostess," I thoughtlessly, unthinkingly, corrected her: "Host." (Ooops! Ouch! Sorry!)
But to be fair to my inner prescriptivist, host was the right word. A quick check of Google News turns up hostess with reference to Martha Stewart, to the former model who served as Silvio Berlusconi's "hostess" during the Group of Eight summit in Italy, and to "hostess gifts."
When did hostess get relegated to the social sphere as host took over as the unisex term in broadcasting, at least on the news side? I'm not sure but it's obviously happened.
This is the kind of thing the Filipinos must master if they are to reclaim their place as one of the world's largest populations of English speakers. The outsourcing industry in the Philippines hopes to employ nearly a million people, account for 8.5 percent of gross domestic product, and have 10 percent of the world market by the end of next year.
It's an ambitious goal, but I wish them well. English is a great language – once you get the hang of it.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
457 visa abuse – Filipino meatworkers latest victims
29 July 2009
Bob Briton
http://www.cpa.org.au
The Howard Government’s 457 visas were touted as a response to skills shortages in the labour market – to fill jobs where there were no local takers. The union movement recognised that gaps needed filling but pointed out that grave dangers exist for abuse by employers with the system introduced by the Howard government. Evidence has been mounting ever since the introduction of the scheme in 2003 that the unions were right. Among the latest victims are five Filipino meatworkers in WA, sacked in what their union suspects was a move to ensure a union-free enterprise agreement by an employer already in trouble for breaches of its obligations to 457 visa-holding workers.
Fletcher International runs a multi-million dollar abattoir in Narrikup, about 35 kilometres from Albany in southwest WA. It uses 457 visa workers extensively. The company has been sanctioned by the Department of Immigration for breaches of its obligations as a sponsoring employer and, while it has appealed the sanction to the Migration Review Tribunal, the outcome is not known publicly.
Fletcher’s factory is set about a kilometre from the road and is surrounded by barbed wire and surveillance cameras. The five sacked workers were told that there was no work for them because of a downturn in the economy and a lack of livestock. Management wouldn’t answer the workers’ other questions about the basis of their dismissal. They had never received any verbal or written warnings about their work or behaviour. They are convinced the real reason for their dismissal is that they were recognised as the leaders of a union group in the company widely known as an anti-union employer.
The workers are Joel Espartero, Zandro Sta Maria, Nolan Dela Cruz, Gilbert Vidal and Rex Cortado. Two of them have school aged children. Their payout is running out due to high rents and other daily expenses in WA. Zandro’s 70 year-old mother in the Philippines relies on his pay to buy expensive diabetes medication. They originally turned to the union when they realised they were missing out on increases in meatworkers’ pay rates and other conditions. Other workers at Fletcher’s have now resigned from the union, apparently in response to the example made of the five Filipinos. There is a whispering campaign that union members won’t get help when it comes time to process applications for permanent residency.
Workers holding 457 visas are in a very precarious situation. If they lose their job with their sponsoring employer they have 28 days to find another sponsor (quite a bureaucratic process), apply for an extension of the deadline for extenuating circumstances, or go home. Technically, the workers are guaranteed all sorts of protection under the various statutes and the act. “The reality, however, is starkly different,” as Australasian Meat Industry Employees Union (AMIEU) WA Secretary Graeme Haynes told The Guardian.
“I’ll give you an example. Workers there are not entitled to Medicare benefits. The employer deducts money out of their wages for private insurance. The private insurance doesn’t cover the bills because of all the exemptions, etc. The workers are then left with substantial bills in the order of $1,500-$2,000 for fairly simple procedures done at the local public hospital. Enquiries with the Department of Immigration quite clearly state that it’s the obligation of the employers to meet all those expenses. What actually happens in practice is the workers go to the company and say, look I’ve got this huge medical bill. The union and the Department of Immigration say that you’ve [the company] got to pay it. The company simply says if you force us to pay it we’ll withdraw your sponsorship,” Graeme Haynes said.
Visa 457 workers are not eligible for CentreLink payments such as unemployment benefits, either. The workers in this latest case were sacked on June 2 and paid out their entitlements – about 10 weeks pay. The AMIEU has lodged an application for unfair/unlawful termination and a conference is listed for September 10. The union has found alternative employers for the men but their jobs are subject to approval by the Department of Immigration of a Meat Industry Labour Agreement. These can take months and, in the meantime, the workers are in a sort of limbo. Their union has launched an appeal (details below) for the workers and support is coming in from Unions WA and migrant organisations.
“We absolutely appreciate any support to keep us moving and fighting,” Zandro Sta Maria told The Guardian. He has a message for employers using 457 visa holders. “They forget there was a call made by the company and nobody answered the call. That’s the reason why we Filipinos travelled halfway around the world to answer the call that they are in need of a workforce. That’s why they hired us. They tend to forget as well that whether we are Filipino workers, South Africans, or Australian workers, we are the invincible signatories of their pay cheques. They tend to forget those things. Maybe these things could be a wakeup call for them to ensure justice for everyone.”
To help the Filipino workers visit the AMIEU’s WA site at: www.wa.amieu.net
Bob Briton
http://www.cpa.org.au
The Howard Government’s 457 visas were touted as a response to skills shortages in the labour market – to fill jobs where there were no local takers. The union movement recognised that gaps needed filling but pointed out that grave dangers exist for abuse by employers with the system introduced by the Howard government. Evidence has been mounting ever since the introduction of the scheme in 2003 that the unions were right. Among the latest victims are five Filipino meatworkers in WA, sacked in what their union suspects was a move to ensure a union-free enterprise agreement by an employer already in trouble for breaches of its obligations to 457 visa-holding workers.
Fletcher International runs a multi-million dollar abattoir in Narrikup, about 35 kilometres from Albany in southwest WA. It uses 457 visa workers extensively. The company has been sanctioned by the Department of Immigration for breaches of its obligations as a sponsoring employer and, while it has appealed the sanction to the Migration Review Tribunal, the outcome is not known publicly.
Fletcher’s factory is set about a kilometre from the road and is surrounded by barbed wire and surveillance cameras. The five sacked workers were told that there was no work for them because of a downturn in the economy and a lack of livestock. Management wouldn’t answer the workers’ other questions about the basis of their dismissal. They had never received any verbal or written warnings about their work or behaviour. They are convinced the real reason for their dismissal is that they were recognised as the leaders of a union group in the company widely known as an anti-union employer.
The workers are Joel Espartero, Zandro Sta Maria, Nolan Dela Cruz, Gilbert Vidal and Rex Cortado. Two of them have school aged children. Their payout is running out due to high rents and other daily expenses in WA. Zandro’s 70 year-old mother in the Philippines relies on his pay to buy expensive diabetes medication. They originally turned to the union when they realised they were missing out on increases in meatworkers’ pay rates and other conditions. Other workers at Fletcher’s have now resigned from the union, apparently in response to the example made of the five Filipinos. There is a whispering campaign that union members won’t get help when it comes time to process applications for permanent residency.
Workers holding 457 visas are in a very precarious situation. If they lose their job with their sponsoring employer they have 28 days to find another sponsor (quite a bureaucratic process), apply for an extension of the deadline for extenuating circumstances, or go home. Technically, the workers are guaranteed all sorts of protection under the various statutes and the act. “The reality, however, is starkly different,” as Australasian Meat Industry Employees Union (AMIEU) WA Secretary Graeme Haynes told The Guardian.
“I’ll give you an example. Workers there are not entitled to Medicare benefits. The employer deducts money out of their wages for private insurance. The private insurance doesn’t cover the bills because of all the exemptions, etc. The workers are then left with substantial bills in the order of $1,500-$2,000 for fairly simple procedures done at the local public hospital. Enquiries with the Department of Immigration quite clearly state that it’s the obligation of the employers to meet all those expenses. What actually happens in practice is the workers go to the company and say, look I’ve got this huge medical bill. The union and the Department of Immigration say that you’ve [the company] got to pay it. The company simply says if you force us to pay it we’ll withdraw your sponsorship,” Graeme Haynes said.
Visa 457 workers are not eligible for CentreLink payments such as unemployment benefits, either. The workers in this latest case were sacked on June 2 and paid out their entitlements – about 10 weeks pay. The AMIEU has lodged an application for unfair/unlawful termination and a conference is listed for September 10. The union has found alternative employers for the men but their jobs are subject to approval by the Department of Immigration of a Meat Industry Labour Agreement. These can take months and, in the meantime, the workers are in a sort of limbo. Their union has launched an appeal (details below) for the workers and support is coming in from Unions WA and migrant organisations.
“We absolutely appreciate any support to keep us moving and fighting,” Zandro Sta Maria told The Guardian. He has a message for employers using 457 visa holders. “They forget there was a call made by the company and nobody answered the call. That’s the reason why we Filipinos travelled halfway around the world to answer the call that they are in need of a workforce. That’s why they hired us. They tend to forget as well that whether we are Filipino workers, South Africans, or Australian workers, we are the invincible signatories of their pay cheques. They tend to forget those things. Maybe these things could be a wakeup call for them to ensure justice for everyone.”
To help the Filipino workers visit the AMIEU’s WA site at: www.wa.amieu.net
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Youngblood: Nationalism redefined
By Bobbie Reyes
Philippine Daily Inquirer
Posted date: July 23, 2009
Almost a year ago, I found myself on a plane to New York City. I wasn’t going on vacation or visiting relatives. I was starting my first year at Sarah Lawrence College, a liberal arts school renowned for its writing program.
The first of my family to leave the country, I was terrified. Doubts filled my mind during the 18-hour trip. But one question kept coming back: Am I performing an act of betrayal to the motherland by leaving at such a young age? The question haunted me.
Answers did not come easily. But after some serious reflection, I am positive that the answer is no.
Socio-economic conditions in the Philippines have been a source of great disappointment and even bitterness, with its sluggish economy, its history of incompetent government leaders, widespread poverty and low standard of public education. As a result, Filipinos from all provinces and social backgrounds look to more developed countries for solutions. In the past 20 years, millions of Filipinos have chosen to study, work, or retire in the United States, Australia and Saudi Arabia, among many other countries. This flight has been called the “brain drain,” a term that signifies that our country’s best and brightest are building their future outside of the country—and in massive numbers, at that.
Out of a population of approximately 90 million, more than 11 million Filipinos have left for greener pastures. At the private Catholic high school I graduated from, a significant number of faculty members have left during the past three years to teach in public schools in the United States at much higher pay. The demand for nurses in the United States alone is estimated to reach 600,000 between now and 2020. It is no longer a surprise to run into Filipinos working as domestic helpers in Italy, Hong Kong and Canada.
Many of these people leave in desperation. Others simply want better standards of living for themselves and for their children. And this is the reason, the decision to get out of the country is commonly perceived, though not so often openly denounced, as acts of selfishness and betrayal of the motherland.
Being a Third World country struggling to develop, the Philippines needs all the help it can get. When we were in high school, our teachers urged us to direct all our efforts to improving conditions in our country. We were encouraged to stay—or come back eventually, should we decided to leave for abroad.
This was how I was taught to love my country. Students at the University of the Philippines, which I attended as a part-time student for one year, are constantly urged to work in the country after graduation to demonstrate their nationalism and as a way of “giving back” to their fellow citizens.
This concept of nationalism was underscored by Patricia Evangelista, who was then a student at the University of the Philippines, during the international public speaking competition conducted by the English Speaking Union in London in 2004. In her speech, entitled “Blonde and Blue Eyes,” Evangelista discussed the Filipino diaspora and stressed the importance of returning to the motherland as an act of nationalism. “Leaving sometimes isn’t a matter of choice,” she said. “It’s coming back that is.”
A few months after she returned from London, she wrote an article in a local newspaper to elaborate on her winning speech, “I condemned the Filipinos who chose to leave,” she said. “They deserved to be pushed down the road to hell on a handcart. Traitors and turncoats, I called them.”
Almost five years later, Evangelista’s piece is still acclaimed as a benchmark of Philippine nationalism. But is idea of nationalism a geographic one? Must one be confined within certain physical boundaries in order to live out what my dictionary defines as “patriotic feelings, principles or efforts”?
The truth is that in a country that seeks desperately to progress, its citizens should consider the world we live in. It is a globalizing one, and as technology, society and people from all parts of the world become increasingly interconnected and interdependent, I cannot see how the dispersal of Filipinos all over the world can be a disadvantage. Aside from bringing in dollars through their remittances, which contribute to the growth of the economy, Filipinos overseas have other very real impacts on Philippine society. For one thing, the competition for local employment is alleviated. Those who criticize the diaspora often claim that it is the best people (or the best students) who migrate, leaving the Philippines with mediocre teachers, mediocre nurses, and other professionals. But these critics underestimate Filipino talent. Our pool of talent is not that small. There are many gifted people in the country, a fact that many fail to appreciate. Those who leave open more opportunities for those who choose to stay.
Filipinos working abroad are living proof that we are indeed global citizens, competent and capable and equipped with the skills necessary to thrive in foreign places. As we witness fellow citizens climbing to the top of various industries and professions in New York, London and Paris, don’t we all beam with pride? More than just advancing their interests, they also serve as ambassadors proclaiming by their achievements the greatness of Filipinos and what they can contribute to society.
This is the kind of nationalism I know. This is the kind of nationalism I feel. This is the kind of nationalism I believe in.
To quote Evangelista again, “Leaving sometimes isn’t a matter of choice. It’s coming back that is.” I left, and it was fully my choice. And I have never felt my identity as a Filipino as strongly as I do today, thousands of miles away from home. I don’t know when, or if, I will ever go back for good. But I know that I have never been prouder of where I come from and that I can make my country proud of me, regardless of where I am.
(Bobbie Reyes, 20, is an incoming sophomore at Sarah Lawrence College in New York.)
Philippine Daily Inquirer
Posted date: July 23, 2009
Almost a year ago, I found myself on a plane to New York City. I wasn’t going on vacation or visiting relatives. I was starting my first year at Sarah Lawrence College, a liberal arts school renowned for its writing program.
The first of my family to leave the country, I was terrified. Doubts filled my mind during the 18-hour trip. But one question kept coming back: Am I performing an act of betrayal to the motherland by leaving at such a young age? The question haunted me.
Answers did not come easily. But after some serious reflection, I am positive that the answer is no.
Socio-economic conditions in the Philippines have been a source of great disappointment and even bitterness, with its sluggish economy, its history of incompetent government leaders, widespread poverty and low standard of public education. As a result, Filipinos from all provinces and social backgrounds look to more developed countries for solutions. In the past 20 years, millions of Filipinos have chosen to study, work, or retire in the United States, Australia and Saudi Arabia, among many other countries. This flight has been called the “brain drain,” a term that signifies that our country’s best and brightest are building their future outside of the country—and in massive numbers, at that.
Out of a population of approximately 90 million, more than 11 million Filipinos have left for greener pastures. At the private Catholic high school I graduated from, a significant number of faculty members have left during the past three years to teach in public schools in the United States at much higher pay. The demand for nurses in the United States alone is estimated to reach 600,000 between now and 2020. It is no longer a surprise to run into Filipinos working as domestic helpers in Italy, Hong Kong and Canada.
Many of these people leave in desperation. Others simply want better standards of living for themselves and for their children. And this is the reason, the decision to get out of the country is commonly perceived, though not so often openly denounced, as acts of selfishness and betrayal of the motherland.
Being a Third World country struggling to develop, the Philippines needs all the help it can get. When we were in high school, our teachers urged us to direct all our efforts to improving conditions in our country. We were encouraged to stay—or come back eventually, should we decided to leave for abroad.
This was how I was taught to love my country. Students at the University of the Philippines, which I attended as a part-time student for one year, are constantly urged to work in the country after graduation to demonstrate their nationalism and as a way of “giving back” to their fellow citizens.
This concept of nationalism was underscored by Patricia Evangelista, who was then a student at the University of the Philippines, during the international public speaking competition conducted by the English Speaking Union in London in 2004. In her speech, entitled “Blonde and Blue Eyes,” Evangelista discussed the Filipino diaspora and stressed the importance of returning to the motherland as an act of nationalism. “Leaving sometimes isn’t a matter of choice,” she said. “It’s coming back that is.”
A few months after she returned from London, she wrote an article in a local newspaper to elaborate on her winning speech, “I condemned the Filipinos who chose to leave,” she said. “They deserved to be pushed down the road to hell on a handcart. Traitors and turncoats, I called them.”
Almost five years later, Evangelista’s piece is still acclaimed as a benchmark of Philippine nationalism. But is idea of nationalism a geographic one? Must one be confined within certain physical boundaries in order to live out what my dictionary defines as “patriotic feelings, principles or efforts”?
The truth is that in a country that seeks desperately to progress, its citizens should consider the world we live in. It is a globalizing one, and as technology, society and people from all parts of the world become increasingly interconnected and interdependent, I cannot see how the dispersal of Filipinos all over the world can be a disadvantage. Aside from bringing in dollars through their remittances, which contribute to the growth of the economy, Filipinos overseas have other very real impacts on Philippine society. For one thing, the competition for local employment is alleviated. Those who criticize the diaspora often claim that it is the best people (or the best students) who migrate, leaving the Philippines with mediocre teachers, mediocre nurses, and other professionals. But these critics underestimate Filipino talent. Our pool of talent is not that small. There are many gifted people in the country, a fact that many fail to appreciate. Those who leave open more opportunities for those who choose to stay.
Filipinos working abroad are living proof that we are indeed global citizens, competent and capable and equipped with the skills necessary to thrive in foreign places. As we witness fellow citizens climbing to the top of various industries and professions in New York, London and Paris, don’t we all beam with pride? More than just advancing their interests, they also serve as ambassadors proclaiming by their achievements the greatness of Filipinos and what they can contribute to society.
This is the kind of nationalism I know. This is the kind of nationalism I feel. This is the kind of nationalism I believe in.
To quote Evangelista again, “Leaving sometimes isn’t a matter of choice. It’s coming back that is.” I left, and it was fully my choice. And I have never felt my identity as a Filipino as strongly as I do today, thousands of miles away from home. I don’t know when, or if, I will ever go back for good. But I know that I have never been prouder of where I come from and that I can make my country proud of me, regardless of where I am.
(Bobbie Reyes, 20, is an incoming sophomore at Sarah Lawrence College in New York.)
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