The term, "Overseas Filipino Worker" (OFW), is a broad term used to signify Filipinos who work overseas. While advertisements in the Philippines and some of the destination countries don't mention it, a Filipino (non-US citizen) serving with the US military would also be classified as an overseas Filipino worker.
I read an interesting article at the Los Angeles Times online, "Arizona slams door on illegal immigrants", and quickly realized the problem won't go away until Mexico's economy is better than that of the United States. Here's what a few other bloggers have written about the immigration problem. After the list, I'll offer you my solution to the problem.
Back in 2000, I was working a lot of hours per week as the MIS manager for a telemarketing corporation. I didn't get much sleep most days/nights. In addition, I had a medical problem — my left shoulder was in continuous pain (I later found out it adhesive encapsulitis, but that's another story).
One day, it was a Friday, I received a call from my older son. His (my) car had been hit while going through an intersection by an oncoming car in which the driver made an illegal left turn in front of his car. I called my boss (the Vice President of IT) and let him know I wouldn't be coming in that evening.
My wife was in the front passenger seat. The impact forced her body forward and to the left and caused her forehead to impact the rear view mirror. A huge gash opened up, with blood spilling everywhere. My son was uninjured. The ambulance took my wife to the nearest hospital before I arrived at the scene of the accident. After finding out from my son where that was, I headed straight over. I spent hours there with her until she was sewn up and released. I did not sleep a wink prior to a phone call from my boss, the next morning. He asked me to go in to work in order to provide some leads for the crew that was on (I maintained a database with millions of records).
I was incensed, but I went in. After a few hours, I left and returned home in order to care for my wife. My son was at work. I replaced her bandages after cleaning the sutured wound, which continued to ooze clear fluid.
I didn't go back to work on the following Monday. I didn't even call my boss. He knew what was going on. Then, on Tuesday morning, while I was enroute to the job site, I decided I had had enough of the job, the people, and my boss. My wife, still suffering from the wound and massive headaches from the concussion, was more important to me. I entered my office early, before the boss even arrived at work. I walked to my PC, sat down, brought up notepad and typed out my resignation. I proceeded to his office, put the page on his desk and put my badge on top of it. I then walked out of the building. I never went back.
I could have dealt with my own pain, and everything else I had to deal with, but interfering with my family was a no-no that I couldn't deal with. The only regret I had was, after I found out from my boss after he had quit and opened his own business two weeks later, that I was to be promoted to IT Director the day he was planning to quit.
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