The people physically closest to me right now are in the same boat as me: Charlette, who moved from the Philippines to Chicago in September 2019 to pursue a master’s degree in arts management, and my boyfriend, David, who came to the United States in April 2019 to work as a physical therapist.
The three of us are among the millions of Filipinos who left the Philippines for better opportunities in the United States.
For the most part, life while sheltering in place with Charlette seems normal. We live in an apartment on the North Side of Chicago. She spends the day watching movies, cooking, and attending online classes, while I work from home unless an editor sends me out into the field. I see David, who lives a block and a half away, only when we shop for groceries together or drop off supplies for one another. As a physical therapist, he is still considered an essential worker and is treating homebound patients every day.
Recently, Charlette found out she had been exposed to someone in school who was in contact with a possible Covid-19 patient, so we decided to self-quarantine for two weeks. Since then, the two of us have been practicing social distancing at home.
Loneliness and uncertainty are side effects of this pandemic; for people like us, whose immediate families are thousands of miles away, it is even lonelier. We cope by finding distractions and new hobbies, like cooking, painting, watching Korean dramas, and talking to our friends and relatives back in the Philippines. But despite the emotional toll, we consider ourselves extremely privileged.
Every aspiring immigrant knows their fate in the United States is uncertain. Charlette wonders how she will get by now that the economy is collapsing. “Does America recognize that I exist here? Does the government care if I go broke? Because for sure the Philippine government doesn’t care enough to think about me. They have enough problems,” she tells me. Even though she isn’t a U.S. citizen, Charlette pays taxes, spends money at American businesses, and pays thousands of dollars in tuition.
David, who spent years trying to secure a work visa in the Philippines to come to the United States, worries about what would happen if he gets sick. “I might not get the same amount of benefits as other people here,” David told me. “If ever, God forbid, I get into a situation, knowing I’m an immigrant and they prioritize citizens… it puts me at greater risk of not being treated.”