Francis Emmanuel Calingo

The term “research” is a loaded term, particularly due to its historical association with colonialism and imperialism. This reputation is not unfounded, especially among racialized communities in the Global North and many in the Global South, despite the efforts of well-intentioned researchers. Some of the most egregious examples of research being weaponized against vulnerable groups include human experimentation by fascist regimes during World War II, the Tuskegee Syphilis Study, which specifically targeted African-American men (a case often cited to explain heightened vaccine hesitancy within racialized communities during the COVID-19 pandemic), and the ongoing forced sterilization of Indigenous women in Canada. However, there have been significant efforts to centre decolonial perspectives into research methodologies, and this publication offers an exemplary case study that could serve as a model for other researchers aiming to adopt similar approaches.

Though this publication focuses on a specific methodology—“kwentuhan,” a storytelling approach from the Philippines—and a particular group—undocumented Filipino students in the United States, it provides a framework that can be applied across different research contexts. This methodology can be adapted to various geographic regions and communities, particularly migrant populations and others communities that have had a traumatic experience with research. Grounded in the key principles of “Sikolohiyang Pilipino” (Filipino Psychology), the authors of this study took a participatory approach, fostering equitable researcher-subject dynamics. They emphasized cultural sensitivity, transparency, and trust as central tenets of their research. The positive outcomes were evident: participants felt humanized and part of a collaborative process rather than being subjects of a purely transactional relationship. Some even trusted the researchers enough to be listed as co-authors, despite the fact that the removal of their anonymity could put them at risk with agencies enforcing immigration law. While such outcomes may not always be replicable, I believe this methodology has potential for researching vulnerable Filipino migrant communities in Canada—such as international students, overseas foreign workers, and those who entered through the Live-In Caregiver Program. These groups also face considerable precarity, which has been exacerbated by recent changes to Canadian immigration laws, rising living costs, and increasing anti-immigrant sentiment. This approach, however, is not limited to the Filipino diaspora. In fact, the authors noted that by the time they began their research, scholars from Black and Latin American communities in the United States had already developed similar storytelling methodologies that centre the lived experiences of participants, adding cultural nuance to the rigidities of traditional research methods. While ethical review processes are a requirement for most research, they may not always sufficiently address the cultural sensitivity required when working with vulnerable populations—something that is notably present in this publication.

Additionally, the authors’ handling of the term “Filipino” deserves recognition. Some people and organizations, particularly from the Filipino diaspora, have increasingly advocated for the use of the gender-neutral term “Filipinx” and its variants to reflect and honour the LGBTQ+ community's long history in the Philippines. This push for more inclusive language comes in the context of a society traditionally characterized by conservative Catholic values, and where LGBTQ+ rights have not been widely acknowledged nor protected. The lack of recognition stems, in part, from centuries of colonialism, which erased many pre-colonial cultural practices, including the acceptance of LGBTQ+ identities. However, this movement has faced pushback, particularly from conservative Filipinos in the Philippines, but also from LGBTQ+ communities and allies, who argue that the use of “Filipinx” is unnecessary and even colonial, as many Philippine languages are inherently gender-neutral, and the letter "x" is not native to the Philippines. The way I approach this issue aligns with the approach taken by the authors, who used the term that was most comfortable for their research participants. At the core of decolonization is being grounded by the conditions and needs of the people being served. Those who feel validated and heard when they are referred to as “Filipinx” are no different than those that would rather identify as “Filipino” and “Filipina.” Respecting these preferences reflects a decolonized, ethical approach to research design, particularly when working with vulnerable groups such as undocumented Filipinos.

For many racialized immigrants such as myself, the seemingly inherent contradictions of being both a settler and a working-class Global South migrant settling in a Global North country is an often difficult reality to reconcile with. However, this publication offers a robust alternative to the rigid perceptions of settler colonialism and migration, and encourages us to take a more nuanced approach towards what it means for Canada to be a settler nation. Using assemblages methodology, which, in this context, postulates that the conditions of racialized migrants and Indigenous peoples of Canada should not be framed as two separate and linear variables competing against each other, but rather demands that we view them as fluid and interconnected. I agree with that thinking. The deteriorating socioeconomic conditions in the Philippines, which forced me and my family to migrate to Canada over two decades, is not only not dissimilar to the socioeconomic plight of Indigenous peoples of Canada as well as other racialized groups (re: over 4 centuries of colonialism in the Philippines, as well as unequal treaties and relationships with more powerful countries such as the United States and China), but they are connected socially and economically. For example, the struggle to protect Indigenous lands from fossil fuel-augmenting infrastructure such as Coastal GasLink Pipeline’s intrusion into Wetʼsuwetʼen First Nation territory nearly mirrors the struggles of the Philippine peasant class and Indigenous communities’ (katutubo) struggles against land and labour exploitation by foreign mining and fruit companies, and their Philippine allies. While I do not wish to deny agency from anyone that chooses to migrate to Canada, it is nevertheless important to keep in mind that many of us migrate out of the need to provide for our families back home and protect them from the worst of deteriorating socioeconomic conditions.

The four portraits of Scarborough discussed in this work is a welcomed alternative narrative to the misleading mainstream and popular media narratives that it is a far-away, lawless, socioeconomic dump that somehow deserves the scorn from the rest of Toronto. Not only do they highlight its multicultural nature, but do so in a way that is not fixated on the present moment nor tokenizes it to weaponize against Indigenous resistance the way governments and institutions continue to do. It is rightfully framed as a form of resistance, from the community events celebrating heritage to the foundation of civic organizations advocating for more equitable public policies. (I personally am in the process of getting involved with the Scarborough-based Urban Alliance of Race Relations). It uplifts its Indigenous history and ongoing part of Indigenous struggle while notable Scarborough institutions such as UTSC continue to erase it and replace it with settler colonial romanticized narratives of “unoccupied far-away lands”.

Works like this one are key in pushing back against narratives that attempt to frame settler colonialism as a monolith, and beliefs that nation-states such as Canada should be the only point of analysis within decolonial discourses and migration studies.

Despite the technical nature of this publication that may not be easily understandable for those who are not familiar with geospatial concepts, the authors nevertheless brilliantly fleshed out a major issue amongst urban areas of Canada-urban sprawl-and used their geospatial expertise to connect the geographic and social aspect of said issue. Their geospatial visualizations were more granular than density choropleth maps that most people are familiar with, yet they were made understandable enough to draw upon discernible urban patterns, complemented by technical methodology that effectively fills potential knowledge gaps.

As a largely continental country that is generally car-oriented, and whose metropolitan areas were largely built from the post-WWII growth, Canada’s physical and human geography creates a perfect storm for the proliferation of urban sprawl, with the authors even noting that barriers to sprawl such as major rivers are rare for Canada. Based on their research, which was the first research of its kind that compares the spatial patterns of population densities for major Canadian cities at a granular level, Brampton, Calgary, and Winnipeg exemplify Canadian urban sprawl as largely low-density cities where large portions of their population are living outside the population clusters, whether due to having many population clusters and/or the clusters being spatially distant. Even in cities like Toronto, where ravines slice through the city and a gigantic freshwater shoreline make up its southern boundary, spatial discontinuities of populations at granular levels still exist. With the ongoing rapid growth of Toronto’s suburbs, as well as towns surrounding Calgary, more research must be conducted to not only measure and visualize the negative effects of ongoing urban sprawl, but also draw insights that will push for policy changes such as more dense, transit-oriented, and mixed-use development that protects greenspaces that these two authors are advocating for. In fact, they noted that densification of communities is a way to combat climate change by reducing the usage of cars, which, in turn, reduces greenhouse gas emissions. Ever since this publication, Canada recorded its hottest temperature in 2021 and experienced its worst wildfire season in 2023 by area burnt, rendering action on climate change mitigation, and, by extension, research like this even more important.

Given that this was published before the onset of COVID-19, it would be great for there to be follow-up research conducted on this matter. One of the COVID-19 pandemic’s major effects on spatial patterns was the dramatic shift towards remote and hybrid work. Even after virtually all pandemic restrictions have disappeared, the attitudes of many workers are still in favour of their employers keeping remote work mechanisms in place, or at the very least, exploring hybrid options. Some workplaces have fully embraced the new normal, while others are adamant about returning to their pre-pandemic work arrangements. Regardless, this new reality should be something that follow-up research should explore, as it touches upon many aspects of urban spatial patterns-commuting, office space occupancy, relocation to the suburbs, etc. As the authors advocated for densification of communities and the proliferation of more mixed-use, transit-oriented development, now would be a good time to utilize this publication as a way to amalgamate their insights with ongoing discussions regarding converting unused office space (due to work-from-home models) into mixed-use housing. The current housing crisis and promises by political leaders to address it with policies meant to encourage mass home construction not seen since the immediate period after World War II, adds another interesting dynamic to urban spatial patterns that follow-up research should explore. It is interesting that the authors brought up Ontario’s Places to Grow Act, given that over the past few years, the current Ontario government sought to circumvent that act and other related legislation by opening up protected environmentally sensitive areas in the Greater Toronto Area (collectively known as the Greenbelt) for development. Alongside recent proposals to build a new highway in Toronto’s suburban communities and recent provincial legislation closing downtown bike lanes in Toronto, it makes publications like this one ever so important, and must be continued to be reproduced to combat urban sprawl and the negative environmental and social impacts that come with it.

Statistics and data are often very difficult topics to grasp, even for those directly involved in the field. However, Spiegelhalter did a fantastic job in not only explaining some of statistics’ core concepts, but also applying them to real-life scenarios as well as successfully making a case in advancing data literacy everywhere.

COVID-19, climatic trends, economic indices, and metrics that quantify racial inequalities are but few of the many examples that demonstrate data’s important role in everyday life. However, despite data’s seemingly objective nature, how it’s processed, communicated, and understood are prone to errors or intentionally mischievous actions. Any flaw in what the author described as the PPDAC framework (Problem, Plan, Data, Analysis and Conclusion) could have disastrous consequences. An example of why data literacy and proper communication of data findings in full is the ongoing but misleading narratives that COVID-19 vaccines are “ineffective” because allegedly the risk of getting infected, getting hospitalized from COVID-19, and/or dying from it is negligible between non-vaccinated groups and groups with varying levels of dosage. The reality is that the people who are pushing those narratives fail to account for those numbers on a group-by-group basis, and only look at the raw numbers. For example, if we run a hypothetical test (I say hypothetical because the ethics of this imaginary test would not bode well in the real world) where 10 unvaccinated people and 100 quadruple-dosed vaccinated people were infected with COVID-19, and 1 unvaccinated person died and 4 vaccinated people died, you can see how, proportionally, the mortality was lower for vaccinated people even though it was numerically higher. This is a common flaw (not just limited to vaccination) where people would Interchangeably use “absolute” and “relative risk”. Another common flaw outlined by the author is ignoring confounding factors that could play a role in two variables’ correlation (for example, is the positive correlation between higher educational attainment and brain tumor prevalence reflective of educational attainment, or more reflective of better socioeconomic status that allows people with a higher status enough financial fluidity to access education as well as healthcare procedures that does a better job of detecting brain tumors?)

Whether it comes to marketing firms building up hype for their product, politicians pointing to certain economic indices, pharmaceutical companies lauding the efficacy of their products, universities boasting about their rankings, and so forth, many players will use (and, unfortunately more often than not, misuse) data to push their agendas. With the advent of big data, it becomes even more crucial for data literacy to be augmented accordingly.

Even at a very young age, I was already exposed to the deskilling and deprofessionalization faced by many Filipino immigrants coming to Canada. Both my mother and my father, despite over a decade of professional experience in their respective fields (healthcare and wastewater engineering, respectively), had to either retake training and/or educational programs that they have already acquired in the Philippines upon landing in Canada. I can still recall my mother working three different low-wage retail jobs while studying at George Brown College in Toronto. They were ultimately successful, but the experience demonstrated that the issues of deskilling and deprofessionalization are issues that touch upon many Filipinos in Canada, especially the students that May Farrales interviewed in this publication. For researchers that endeavour to better understand how deskilling and deprofessionalization play a role in the Filipino Canadian community’s educational and labour outcomes, this publication can be incorporated in their literature review, especially if the reviews seeks out literature that both incorporates minors as subjects in their research and explores educational structures that are pertinent to the Filipino Canadian community.

Rather than looking at the effects of transnational migration (and the subsequent family separation) and educational policies in isolation, Farrales decided to essentially amalgamate both in the belief that both play distinct and separate, but otherwise collaborative roles in causing less-than-expected educational outcomes for immigrant Filipino high school students. Many Filipino students that she interviewed can attest that the prolonged visa processing time occurring in conjunction with their studies in the Philippines, alongside the structure of English as a Second Language classes that they were assigned to once they have landed in Vancouver, were factors that had a negative impact on their educational experiences, whether that was through their perceptions of the structure, their own performances, or even their own selves. This is one of many anecdotal instances exhibiting the nature Philippines’ Labour Export Policy and Canada’s immigration policies such as the Live-In Caregiver program, where such policies facilitate the mass migration of skilled workers and students outside the Philippines to a country where their skills and qualifications immediately get devalued, and go through an education system that produces less-than-desirable educational outcomes. The effects are even more pronounced with children of immigrants coming from the Live-In Caregiver Program (where Filipinos make up the majority of the program) and related channels, as Farrales noted.

Farrales did note that her choice of the two schools for her publication were based on both their high Filipino demographic, as well as the permissions granted to her by both schools’ administrations. Farrales also noted that there has been debates surrounding how much agency researchers should give to children and high school-aged students, and therefore attempted to strike a balance between not holding students to account for the systems that forced them into their current conditions, and not merely dismissing those students as passive objects in those systems. With that said, there were two considerations that I would’ve added in her follow-ups. Firstly, she mentions the potential of exploring other ways students navigate their everyday lives at school, in the educational system, and beyond the physical school site. While I am inclined to believe that the aforementioned educational and migration policies played a role in her interviewees’ educational outcomes, I would also like to know if the schools’ spatial relations also played a role in that. What are the physical and demographic characteristics of the neighbourhoods that the schools are situated in? What are the commuting patterns of their students? Are there nearby services that can help immigrants integrate, and how effective are they? These are important questions that could be addressed in a follow-up to this matter. Secondly, as Farrales has acknowledged that the small sample size was a limitation to her research, if she were to conduct a follow-up research, how would she have implemented her interview design differently? Would implementing less-rigid research structures and embedding more culturally-oriented activities attract more interviewees? With the availability of more electronic methods such as Zoom, would that have increased the sample size? Such follow-up efforts will be needed to, if not change broad policies entirely, at the very least, equip educational workers with better tools to help Filipino students attain better educational outcomes and, as a consequence, better upward mobility.

As a former statistics student, I immediately recognized the Simpson’s Paradox present in these findings. A classic dilemma in statistical studies, it is a phenomenon where trends at a group level are the exact or nearly the exact opposite of the overall trend when the groups are combined. This phenomenon is apparent in this publication, where the authors noted that while general immigrants tend to have higher educational attainment than the general population, the trend completely reverses when subdividing immigrants into various categories. In particular, the discrepancy between first and second-generation immigrants in terms of educational attainment, as well as between private and government-sponsored refugees, and between migrants entering through the Live-In Caregiver Program and other channels, are very daunting. The conclusions drawn from this study should be studied and investigated further, not only to push back potential anti-immigrant narratives that misleadingly claim that immigrants are better off than “Canadians”, but to also better understand socioeconomic dynamics of migrant communities in Canada. For example, the authors noted that the Live-In Caregiver Program is heavily Filipinized, which then follows that educational attainment for children of immigrants taking part of the Live-In Caregiver Program should be of huge concern for that community.

The very last paragraph stated the following: “Theoretical and empirical studies originating primarily from the United States suggest that the local communities where immigrants live influence whom their children interact with, and this affects their children’s identity, social norms and motivations. Whether the same applies to Canada remains to be carefully examined.” This is absolutely an important matter to follow-up on. With some migrant communities starting to show some dispersion in their migration patterns (e.g., some have started to settle in more rural communities rather than the larger metropolitan areas such as the Greater Toronto Area and Metro Vancouver, others have leaned towards Atlantic Canada as a result of government initiatives), it becomes even more important that intercommunity dynamics be studied further.

Filipino Canadians currently represent the fourth-largest visible minority in Canada and form a plurality-and, in some cases, the majority-of the migrant population in certain neighbourhoods. Their growing prominence in the Canadian labour market underscores the relevance of this publication. Despite being over a decade old, it’s a great read for those researching the socioeconomic realities of the Filipino community or seeking to deepen their understanding of migration research, particularly in relation to labour and educational outcomes.

As a Filipino immigrant, this publication resonated deeply with me. Despite the successes within my own family-such as my university degree, my brother's completion of a master's degree, and my parents' achievements in their respective fields despite the deprofessionalization they experienced-I have encountered countless Filipinos whose experiences reflect many of the challenges outlined in this work. These include stories of deprofessionalization, the need to repeat an academic year despite prior educational credentials from the Philippines, poor labour market outcomes following the Live-in Caregiver Program, and the emotional toll of family separation. These lived realities continue to corroborate the data presented in this publication.

However, while there has been prior research literature on the labour and educational outcomes of second-generation immigrants in general, there remains a significant gap in studies focusing specifically on second-generation Filipino Canadians. The interesting conclusion that first-generation Filipino immigrants often achieve higher educational success than their second-generation counterparts-despite both groups demonstrating high labour participation rates-raises critical questions-had me wondering what cultural, structural, or historical factors unique to the Filipino diaspora contribute to this discrepancy? For example, the association of certain careers (e.g., custodial work) with the Filipino community, the complexities of intersecting racial identities shaped by Spanish and American colonial legacies, and the historical migrations of East Asian, South Asian, and Austronesian peoples to the Philippines.

This is not meant to diminish the achievements of those in the community who have succeeded nor those that have willingly chosen alternatives to post-secondary education. However, the aforementioned anomaly is an indication that many in the community may either be underemployed or are employed for the purposes of providing for themselves and family rather than for aspirational career purposes. Regardless of the root causes, those who are locked out of educational opportunities, not by choice but by socioeconomic conditions and policies that either deliberately keep them locked out or is innocuous in nature but failed to account for them, deserve an opportunity to access those opportunities, and publications like this one are crucial for identifying and addressing these root causes.

Since this study was conducted in 2014, prior to the reinstatement of the mandatory long-form census under the Trudeau government in 2016, one must wonder how its findings might have changed had more robust data from the 2016 census was available, although I reckon that the conclusions would have remained more or less similar. With the Trudeau government subsequently increasing immigration targets, especially in response to labour shortages primarily caused by the economic effects of the COVID-19 pandemic, as well as the subsequent reductions in non-permanent residency targets and added restrictions on family sponsorships-based immigration (in response to concerns, albeit misguided, regarding the effects of the government’s immigration policies on housing availability and prices), this study will need a major revisiting, especially as the Filipino population in Canada crossed the 1 million mark. Other major developments include the growth of the number of Filipino civic and community groups (e.g., Pinoys on Parliament, Filipino Canadian Students Association) as well as the election of the very first Filipina MP in 2021 (Rechie Valdez, Mississauga–Streetsville), whose impact on the aspirational and networking aspect of second-generation Filipino Canadians’ upward mobility remains to be seen and studied.

As previously mentioned, the mandatory long-form census being reinstated was an important development, but more granular community-based data is needed. As Kelly noted, Statistics Canada does a phenomenal job with ascertaining socioeconomic indicators and creating predictive models, but these are often too generalized to capture the cultural and qualitative nuances of specific communities such as the Filipino diaspora. By combining statistical approaches with more culturally sensitive and community-based qualitative methodologies, researchers, community leaders, civic organizations, educational and labour institutions, and governments can further enhance their abilities to craft policies that can reduce this educational discrepancy and, therefore, enhance upward mobility.

There remains a dearth of Filipino-centred research methodologies that are indigenized, decolonized, and culturally robust. Rogelia Pe-Pua and Elizabeth Protacio-Marcelino’s work on the Philippine-based research methodology “Sikolohiyang Pilipino” (Philippine Psychology) highlights the struggles and successes Philippine-based scholars Virgilio Gaspar Enriquez and Dr. Alfredo V.Lagmay faced on the quest to advance the indigenized, decolonized, and culturally robust Sikolohiyang Pilipino.

Up until the 1960s, most students were studying Western psychology and research, meaning that their understanding of themselves and psychology as a whole were based on the perspectives of Westerners. As noted by the publication, that was not only problematic due to colonial implications, but it was also problematic because well-meaning Western researches who could not easily discern cultural nuances of Philippine societies (especially in terms of the local language, where many untranslatable words abound, and polite Filipino gestures that were seen as “rude” in a Western context) misrepresented those societies and its people. By using his American-based education to collaborate with Philippine-based researchers rather than impose his beliefs, Enriquez’ efforts helped push back those narratives, and Sikolohiyang Pilipino began replacing Western psychology in school. There still remains a divide to this day between more Westernized Filipinos and more “traditional” Filipinos, those that want to modernize versus those that want to stay close to their roots. I continue to advocate for Filipinos to embrace their roots while not shaming them for their current conditions. Implementation of Philippine-based research designs such as Enriquez and Lagmay’s Sikolohiyang Pilipino, and mass dissemination of such efforts such as this publication, are important aspects of decolonization in places like the Philippines, as it not only contributes to the decolonization of academia, but also the bridging of the gap between those closer to the neocolonial core (in this case, Metro Manila) and the more indigenous peripheries (in this case, the more rural provinces of the Philippines). As Westernization intensifies and is starting to reach even the indigenous peripheries, we must always ask ourselves “modernization for who, and for what?”, the same way as Enriquez probably asked himself “Western research, for who and for what?”

The authors did a great job in also pointing out some valid criticisms of Sikolohiyang Pilipino, although I would respectfully push back on some of those criticisms myself. One scholar, while praising its revolutionary nature, disagreed with Enriquez’ inclusion of the Filipino diaspora, as they believed that they have lost connection to the homeland. I would respectfully disagree with that notion. Such thinking not only denies the diaspora communities their Filipinoness, but it also ignores the socioeconomic context regarding conditions relating to migration. Many Filipinos, especially overseas foreign workers and skilled workers, left because they wanted a means to provide for their families and communities back home, so their connection to the homeland is not lost, even if the physical connection has been. It also does a disservice to those in the diaspora that have actively been advocating for closer connections to the homeland. Another scholar questioned whether Sikolohiyan Pilipino’s phenomenological orientation is scientific enough to pass scientific standards of objectivity, validity, and reliability. However, I had me wondering if the scholar was referencing Western-oriented scientific standards. In that case, they would have had to re-evaluate their critique because as mentioned previously, not only is imposing Western-oriented research on non-Western subjects (be it people or societies as a whole) colonial in nature, it would not be robust enough to account for local and cultural nuances needed to understand the broader context of psychology in the local community of interest. While Sikolohiyan Pilipino may have its pitfalls, it’s meant to initiate a push to decolonize research and reframe the meaning of “scientific” and “psychology” so that it accounts for all societies. It will not happen overnight, but this important endeavour must be supported if research as a whole wants to support its subjects in a meaningful way.