Min-Wei Lee

Min-Wei Lee
Transient Workers Count Too (TWC2)
Singapore

On the second day of my internship with TWC2, I met Juvy, a 32-year-old runaway Filipina domestic worker. Thankfully the case, which had to do with salary issues, was more or less settled on the day itself, but unfortunately for Juvy she was unable to receive consent for a transfer of employer and had to return home the next day.

That Wednesday was long and tiring as I went between the Ministry of Manpower, the shelter, and Juvy’s employer’s house to retrieve her personal belongings, but meeting her and being able to bring her some measure of comfort made it worthwhile. Though outwardly unassuming and soft-spoken, the woman I came to know over the course of one of the most trying days of her life was brave, resourceful, and exceedingly compassionate, even towards the employer who had caused her so much grief.

Browsing through the photographs I have taken of workers over the course of my internship, I am extremely humbled by the people I’ve met and ashamed at my younger self, who wholeheartedly subscribed to Singapore’s brutally unforgiving and extensively systemic elitist mentality. As I familiarize myself with more cases, it becomes clear, especially in the case of domestic workers, that one of the key factors in exploitation is the employers’ limited one-dimensional perspective regarding foreign workers.

Singapore’s inflexible and deeply ingrained mantra of meritocracy and competitiveness has produced a society that defines success and worth with very select criteria. The dignity of labor seems not to extend to the lower classes of its stratified society, which categorizes lowly paid foreign labor as the ignored and rejected “other.” Perhaps this is the reason that  a widely perpetuated elitist mindset, coupled with the country’s loophole-ridden foreign worker legislation, normalizes the notion that these workers are not entitled to the same basic labor rights afforded to local employees.

While on the topic of local mindsets, another troubling phenomenon I’ve discovered is the dogged inflexibility of Singaporean administrators. Having gone through Singapore’s education system, I am fully aware that Singapore believes that everything has a “right” answer, while any deviation from the prescribed and approved is unacceptable. Such rote learning, while successful in producing high-scoring students and compliant citizens, does little to develop the problem-solving skills of employees. Empathetic responses seem to always be buried by apathetic clinical directions.

While accompanying a worker to his employer’s office to retrieve his owed salary and illegal savings, my colleague and I were not allowed to step into the office where the discussion would be held, even though the worker had a limited grasp of English and might not have been able to comprehend the details of the discussion. After three and a half hours of waiting at a separate reception area, no settlement was reached because the company insisted on cutting the amount owed (SGD $600 [USD $444]) in half and agreed to pay the amended sum only if the worker signed some legal documents that he did not fully understand. Also, when we tried to leave the waiting area to find out what had happened to the worker, the receptionist immediately prevented us from doing so, claiming that she had “not received further instructions” regarding our stay in the office. Though initially shocked by my experiences on the receiving end of such mindless bureaucracy, I can only imagine how difficult it is to navigate such an impenetrable system of operations as a foreigner new to Singapore.

Min-Wei Lee
Transient Workers Count Too (TWC2)
Singapore

So many things have happened since the start of my internship that I hardly know where to begin. Having been thrust into the thick of casework on my very first day at the office, I knew a steep learning curve, characterized by the complex legislation and government systems revolving around foreign workers, lay ahead of me. That being said, the time I have spent with TWC2 thus far has been filled with meaningful hands-on learning experiences.

Though the days are long, stretching into the evenings, when I help out with the meal program, the fatigue I feel at the end of the day is never laced with any form of dissatisfaction or disillusionment. Hearing myriad stories from workers from all walks of life, I am constantly humbled by the sheer strength of will shown by people whose existence in Singapore is typified by hardship.

While TWC2 assists all low-wage migrant workers including foreign domestic workers, the majority of its caseload comes from construction and process sector workers from India and Bangladesh. Though this is a completely different focus group than the one I initially intended to study, I discovered that as a whole, there are key overlapping features regarding the rights violations of the various migrant workers I have encountered.

The fact that these individuals are foreigners whose first language is not English puts them at a great disadvantage. Unscrupulous employers and employment agencies take advantage of Singapore’s convoluted and ambiguous foreign worker legislation, while the workers themselves are ill informed of their fundamental rights. Although the country’s rigid bureaucracy provides a semblance of equality and justice, these workers often encounter great difficulties when trying to navigate the Ministry of Manpower’s reparations system. The degree of imbalance in employer-employee relationships is truly shocking and is deeply reminiscent of indentured slavery.

 

While the other social worker interns at TWC2 deal with individual cases pertaining to salary issues, work injury compensation, and employment scams, my primary job is to produce a “pre-departure” video aimed at workers who have yet to leave their home countries. This video, which will be made available on YouTube and TWC2’s website, will inform prospective workers of essential information that might not have been highlighted by their agents, such as the importance of retaining documents like salary slips and government letters, and the fact that their employment might not be guaranteed.

The constant stream of daily walk-in cases revealed patterns in commonly raised issues, which gave me an idea of the gaps in knowledge that need to be filled in. A key list of points to be addressed in the video quickly emerged with the help of TWC2’s senior staff, who contributed their extensive knowledge. I am currently in the final phases of production and should be able to produce a rough cut in a week’s time.

Though my own documentary on domestic workers has taken a backseat, my experiences with TWC2 have greatly furnished my understanding of these workers’ situation. Speaking to a few seasoned members of TWC2’s executive committee, as well as meeting domestic workers from the Indonesian and Filipino Family Networks, has affirmed my initial thought that my documentary stress the importance of understanding and respect. Once I have completed the pre-departure video, I will be able to fully dedicate myself to my documentary.

Min-Wei Lee
Transient Workers Count Too (TWC2)
Singapore

At the end of April, I received an email from John at TWC2 regarding a recent video created by the advertising agency, Ogilvy & Mather, for the organization’s new “I Give a Day Off” campaign. I had seen the video on Facebook a few days earlier and even shared it on my wall for friends and family to see.

The video’s concept is simple: a mother and domestic worker appear side by side on a split screen and are asked the same series of questions about the family’s child. The questions are short and personal, like “Who is her best friend?” and “What is his favorite subject at school?” At the end of the video it is revealed that 74% of the maids knew the answer while the mothers did not. The video closes with the title card: Shouldn’t we spend more time with our children? Let’s give domestic workers their legal days off.

The video was getting significant traction on Facebook. A lot of my friends had commented positively on it and shared the video with others—an encouraging sight, as most people, especially those of my generation, appear unaware and apathetic to the issues facing foreign domestic workers in Singapore. I myself had an emotional reaction when watching the video, which prompted me to share it and subsequently send an email to TWC2 congratulating them on a job well done.

It was only when the email from John arrived did I realize the subtle inconsistencies with the campaign video.

In his email, John informed me that he wanted my help during the course of my summer internship to create a new campaign video focused on the fundamental right to a day off. He then proceeded to list the two main issues with the Ogilvy video. Firstly, no fathers were featured. Secondly, the video plays on the guilt of parents for not spending time with their children, and turns that into the basis for giving their maids a day off—an emotional tactic which completely ignores the issue of labor rights.

As I read John’s email, I sat there thinking about my own reaction. I was excited by the amount of attention the issue was getting because of the video but also became troubled by the possibility that none of the people who watched it were conscious of the rights issues behind the campaign, and were feeling strongly about it for the wrong reasons.

Such a dilemma led me to think about the possible repercussions of my own documentary. Though I have barely begun the production process, I am conscious of the personal lens through which my story will be told, and this suddenly makes me wary about my approach. What if I lose sight of the real issues while focusing on an emotional narrative?

I’m glad that this concern has arisen before my departure to Singapore, for it will be something to keep at the back of my mind throughout the course of filming.

Min-Wei Lee
Transient Workers Count Too (TWC2)
Singapore

Growing up with a live-in maid is a commonplace phenomenon in affluent Singapore. Most do not question it, and before last year, I didn’t either. I never thought that Aunty Loring—my family’s Filipina domestic worker, who has been a second mother to me since I was four—could be the basis for my recent examination of Singapore’s ambiguous foreign labor laws and its societal apathy towards the welfare of foreign domestic workers.

Today, these 218,000 workers from neighboring countries are not protected under the Ministry of Manpower’s Employment Act, which regulates work hours, rest days, safety guidelines, and retirement. They also have no minimum wage. It is both sobering and perturbing to know that up until 1 January 2013, a nation like Singapore—which boasts First World economic and societal standards—had no mandatory labor policy for weekly rest days for foreign domestic workers. Almost 50% of these women still do not receive a weekly rest day.

With a heavily imbalanced employer-employee relationship, these women are often regarded as inferior by local Singaporeans. While their treatment might not fall under the category of malicious physical or emotional abuse, it is arguable that what some Singaporeans regard as an acceptable way to treat their maids is in fact a silent infringement of their human dignity.

Using my experience as a film and television major, I aim to create an intimate documentary through the lens of my family’s relationship with Aunty Loring to shed light on the nuances of domestic work and highlight the value of these workers to the nuclear family unit. In order to gain a deeper understanding of the nature of problems faced by these women, I will be simultaneously working with social workers at Transient Workers Count Too (TWC2), an advocacy and educational outreach group that champions the rights of migrant workers in Singapore. The organization is also an active research center and a helpline for migrant workers who encounter problems with employers, and provides information for employers and the public.

I do not intend for the documentary to be a condemnation of the system but rather a truthful portrayal of these women who contribute to society just as locals do. It will not ignore the bigger issues but will focus on human connections that matter the most to us, which we all can relate to. In the end, I hope this film may serve as a reminder of these women’s common humanity, and their right to respect and dignity.