Young Men in the Philippines

Theoretical Framework: Migrant Values and Intentions

During an overseas seafarer and family orientation seminar about the economic and social realities of labor migration, a group of labor young male seafarers from ISNTC seemed very confident in their practical training as engine cadets but less so about how their overseas and “on-seas” careers would impact their families and personal relationships. Financially, the parents of maritime students such as these young adults pay USD 5,000 on average for tuition, living, and other schooling expenses for a four-year, eight-semester program like that of the ISNTC (Amante 2003), a cost that is more than most families can afford since the average annual family income in 2006 was just less than USD 3,500 (National Statistics Office 2008a). However, this parental investment indicates not only the importance of investing in “‘quality’ children who could compete in a growing skills-based economy” (Furstenberg 2010, 71; see also Levey 2009), but also reveals the calculated, anticipated return of greater assistance from their children later in their elderly lives. Having completed their training to becoming seafarers, the young men in the seminar were now expected to provide for or contribute financial support to their dependants, particularly for schooling and medical needs, even if they were not the head of the household. ⁶

The seminar sought to reverse the anxiety about fulfilling their roles as professional, potential romantic partner, and filial family member, and it emphasized at the outset two caveats. First, “there is no development in the condition of the family if pursuing goals causes family disintegration”; and second, “if family concerns are not addressed, financial goals will not be achieved” (Atikha Overseas Workers and Communities Initiative, Inc. 2006). Building on these warnings, ATIKHA staff proceeded to orient the young seafarers about the necessity of paying attention to both the economic and emotional requirements of working abroad. For ATIKHA and a majority of Filipinos, a successful migrant worker is one who is able to accumulate capital and other investments to educate his or her children, siblings, and other young relatives. These migrants are further deemed successful if they are able to provide continued social support and other forms of emotional care for their family.

Acknowledging the difficulty migrants have in fulfilling their roles from a distance, ATIKHA cautioned the young seafarers about the cons of overindulgence, a strategy that is typically used by migrants to compensate for their extended physical absence. Remittances and consumer gifts are exchanged and substituted for love and affection (Hochschild 2000) in a culture where care relationships are built upon the notion of reciprocity (Kofman and Raghuram 2009). Here, the tangible forms of money, imported food, and consumer goods could be said to be the physical manifestations of honoring the filial bond and of truly loving one’s parents and family, rather than mere displays of overindulgence. Kaut (1961) explains that utang na loob (literally, “debt of the inside” or, figuratively, “debt of gratitude”) is a particular Filipino value that exposes an important system of reciprocal obligations and behavioral expectations, which, in turn, govern and limit socially meaningful relations. By not honoring this system of socially approved norms of conduct, or by acting ungrateful or without any guilt to those who have invested in their futures, young migrants, for example, face the threat of being seen as walang utang na loob, “without a debt of gratitude” or, even worse, as walang hiya, “without shame.”

Hiya (shame), thereby, works negatively by publicly and visibly revealing the status of those in debt—for example, those who lack economic resources or social support (see Alipio 2009). Rafael (1988/1993) argues that it is hiya, rather than utang na loob, that is the crucial element in this system of reciprocity, as hiya functions to instill fear of being exposed as one who lacks, needs, and must subsequently recognize one’s subordinate status, in contrast to those who have extra resources and can therefore give to others due to their superordinate position, such as young, employed migrant workers. This direct connection of hiya to resources calls forth the concept of the gift, which has been famously analyzed in Mauss’s (1990/2000) description of the North American potlatch as highly competitive and measured. Yet he analyzes the gift not only in terms of an economic transaction, but also as an exchange that entails social principles and emotional sentiments to make sure payment and repayment are received and enacted. Enmeshed in this system of reciprocity, the gift accordingly acts as a loan, activating a relationship of indebtedness that can only be reversed by first evaluating the need and surplus of available resources and then offering a proper gift in return (Kaut 1961). As I have discussed elsewhere (see Alipio 2009), a provisional third party, such as ATIKHA, is often needed to guarantee the repayment of gifts that could mend the psychosocial gaps in personal relationships, or at least remind migrants of their familial responsibilities.

As children transition into adulthood, young adults find themselves indebted not only to their parents but also to their siblings, relatives, and even compadres (godparents), who are strategically chosen by the parents to formalize a friendship between equals or to bring persons of disparate class statuses closer together through the passing on of childcare. While the feeling of gratitude shared among these kin members allows for a special closeness that can be of prime importance later in life for children, in bilaterally sharing the same blood, or dugo, from both father and mother, children are bonded not only to their parents but also to a broad network of blood relatives, creating a wider exchange of financial and emotional aid and the sharing of responsibilities when a situation arises. At the same time, family ties can pressure young adults to seek employment abroad if economic conditions at home are poor. Family ties, too, can enable young adults to migrate if there are family members with prior migration experience, who can share, facilitate, and secure available work opportunities, as found in De Jong et al.’s (1985, 53) study of migrant intentions and behavior in the northern province of Ilocos Norte.

Among family members, young adult children are usually the ones to migrate to obtain work, education, or training, especially with the presence of other adults, including the elderly, who are able to care for the left behind family and their properties (Findley 1987, 181). As Findley (1987, 164) explains in her own study of contextual models of migration in Ilocos Norte, this decision “generates a greater and more stable income for the migrant to share with the family than if the migrant remained at home.” The one who migrates may therefore be the one who has the best chance of higher earnings through migration, a strategy that is known as “dual dependency” as the family is dependent on economic activities in two or more separate places and sectors (De Jong et al. 1985, 47). Failure of young Filipino adults to help their family and relatives is seen as arousing bitterness and betrayal in the family. At this level, the accusations of walang utang na loob and walang hiya take far more serious meanings and repercussions. Moreover, in each community that Findley (1987, 185) studied, she found that the “actual migration behavior of grown children reflected the investment priorities and aspirations of their parents.” While these practices reflect a cultural value of reciprocal gift giving, how exactly do OFWs and seafarers prioritize their family obligations and personal aspirations? To examine this question, the next section presents a qualitative method that aims to reveal the ability of OFWs and seafarers to provide their families in the Philippines with a financially secure, middle-class lifestyle with the prospect of accumulating savings and property. The data derived from this method also aim to uncover the delays in other markers of the transition to adulthood, such as courtship, marriage, and parenthood.

Data and Methods

As the staff started to discuss the potential impact of overseas migration and offshore work on maintaining familial and intimate relationships during the ATIKHA seminar, an exercise was introduced in which financial and family goals, or dreams, were outlined for five years as a staircase (see Figure 1). Through these cognitive “dream maps,” young adults are able to spatially and temporally represent their own conceptions of and choices in transitioning to adulthood and show the correlations among them (Miles and Huberman 1994, 134). The cognitive dream maps provide a comparative and complex perspective on young adulthood in the Philippines, making it possible to chart how young adults’ “coming of age” affects intergenerational relations and the management of material and social assistance (see, for example, Descartes 2006; Rossi and Rossi 1990), by examining how the cultural conceptions of debt and practices of reciprocity shape the values of work, marriage, and family life. Supplemented by ethnographic fieldwork conducted between 2006 and 2007 in Metropolitan Manila and Laguna province, the study responds to Frank Furstenberg’s (2010) call for “more fine-grained information on daily routines, rules and understandings, and exchanges of time, money, and support” among parents and children (p. 80). The study uses qualitative data acquired from the cognitive dream maps of sixteen young adult males, along with extensive participant-observation, semistructured interviews, and questionnaires with these young adults and the families of OFWs, to gather this “fine-grained” information.

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Figure 1

Dream Map

In these dream maps, the young male seafarers’ written responses for each set of goals were first grouped into several common themes. For both financial and family goals, the young men’s responses can be divided into two categories of “money” and “self and family.” The category of money can further be divided into the following themes: save money, clear debts, invest money (for example, through businesses such as animal husbandry, agriculture, or transport), and buy a house (or alternatively, buy land or build on a lot). The category of self and family can also be classified into the following themes: support household finances (their parents’ and their own), support siblings (with their education, training, and personal financial needs), continue education (or training to take future exams that would elevate their career status or rank), prepare for marriage (by dating, introducing future spouse and in-laws to their own family, and saving money for wedding expenses), and start a family (by having a baby or growing their own family with more children).

The following section analyzes the themes of money and self and family by projected goals for five years. In exploring the different models for these migrant behaviors and practices, it is necessary to consider the transformation of gender norms and roles as young adults transition to adulthood. While women and men have become more alike over the course of the past century in how they move into adult roles (Fussell and Furstenberg 2005)—undertaking tasks never before done in the name of securing the needed goods and services for the family as well as engaging in practices that would not have been possible without expanded economic and educational opportunities—the underlying definitions and gender roles have not changed significantly in the Philippines. Despite this finding, the study demonstrates that gender plays an important part in the labor market, such that the ability to become economically self-sufficient is tied to young adults’ capability to sustain and form new personal relationships.

Descriptive Results: Gendered Behaviors and Practices

Contemporary transnational migrant families are contesting the traditional division of labor that was previously seen in the “split households” of earlier Filipino male migrants to the United States and the Middle East (Parreñas 2001, 361–62). That is, during the early 1970s and 1980s, the ideological division of labor remained intact, with males economically sustaining family life outside the physical confines of the home while females continued to nurture its protective, private sphere. In the past two decades, however, women have been challenging this limited mobility by increasingly choosing to work outside the Philippines and to invest in their children and families by taking advantage of the availability of “global care chains” and the lower cost of reproducing (i.e., feeding, housing, clothing, and educating) in the developing world (Parreñas 2001).

At the same time that Filipina migrants are broadening their mobility, the feminization of migration has shuttled them into certain labor niches in today’s global economy. Employed largely as domestic helpers, caregivers, nannies, and nurses abroad, they are expected to “mother” the family of their overseas employers. Being a part of the global care chains themselves, the maternal love and care, which they would provide to their own families in the Philippines, are now being given to the families and children they work for (Hochschild 2000). Filipina migrants, therefore, have not fully contested nor escaped the traditional gender roles to which they are ascribed. Instead, they seem bound to the natural script of “maternalism and deference” even when they are away from home. Consequently, women, who migrate for work and those who migrate and delay marriage, childbearing, and parenthood, or leave children behind, face the social shame, stigma, and guilt of being accused of breaking the household, weakening the ties among family members and kin, transgressing the traditional expectations of cohabitation and socialization, and threatening the unity of the nation (Medina 2001, 40). ⁷

Regardless of women’s expanded roles in the household economy and their valuable contribution to the remittances that keep the Philippine economy afloat under growing foreign debt and crushing unemployment—in 2011, over USD 20 billion was sent home in comparison to the USD 12.8 billion sent in 2006 at the time of my fieldwork (Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas 2012)—the government has called for initiatives to keep female migrants at home. The public media has simultaneously proceeded in publishing one report after another of children’s suffering in transnational families and of whole generations growing up without their parents despite the fact that most children are not only left with extended family members with whom they develop close relationships, but are themselves very resilient to change (see Alipio 2009). In this “post-modern family” or, as Beck-Gernsheim (2002) terms it, the “post-familial family,” individuals’ lives are characterized by choice and adaptation to conditions in the educational system, labor market, and state and social institutions. Young Filipino women, subsequently, have been demonstrating their value and worth as active economic actors. Even so, whenever women’s choices depart from the traditional, classic, or normative forms of work, marriage, and family life, the future of the family is often declared in crisis.

Males, in contrast, face a different kind of criticism. On one hand, in researching the “househusbands” of female migrant workers in the province of Ilocos Norte, Pingol (2001, 8) finds that masculinity is generally defined as being “good providers, virile sex partners, firm and strong fathers” while men’s fashioning of their own masculinity centered on notions of gaining respect and sustaining a level of fear to remain in control. Similarly, in his studies on Filipino seafarers, McKay (2011, 4) writes, “Respect was earned through a man’s independent earnings, leadership, self discipline, endurance of suffering, and ability to abstain sexually, while fear was maintained through physical domination, risk-taking, psychological coercion, and publicly expressing the ‘machismo of rogues and daredevils’ (Pingol 2001).” Perhaps it is that migrant men for the most part hold these traditional notions of gender and sexuality and are able “[to] send more money back home, even [when] taking into consideration earnings differentials between the genders” (Semyonov and Gorodzeisky 2005, 45) that they are less criticized than female migrant workers. They are, in any case, mostly seen as the “pillar of the home” (haligi ng tahanan), as Parreñas (2005) discovers in her study of Filipino transnational migrant families.

On the other hand, in a study on adolescent reproductive health in the Philippines, several informants noted that “the manner in which Filipinos are socialized into adulthood leads to an extended period of emotional and economic dependence on parents and elder family members, as evidenced by adult children cohabiting with parents at all levels of society” (Varga and Zosa-Feranil 2003, 10). In alluding to the practice of instilling cultural values, such as utang na loob, and emphasizing the level of dependence on family and the lack of maturity, one informant even described young Filipino men as “Peter Pans” (Varga and Zosa-Feranil 2003, 10). But what happens to these young men when they leave home for work abroad? How do their actual behaviors and practices align or differ from traditional notions of gender and sexuality? How do they reconceptualize their family ties and obligations, and how do these cultural values drive the kinds of choices they make to achieve job stability, sustainable households, economic independence, romantic partnerships, and a family of their own?

To answer these questions, the cognitive dream maps are revealing. In mapping out their family goals, the young men indicated that in general, maintaining family communication through regular talks, reunions, and vacation or trips, and taking relatives out to restaurants is an important goal for “family bonding.” Ian, for example, was extremely aware of the need to upkeep his relationships with his family and girlfriend, writing that in his first year abroad, he would “start bonding with [his] family” and plan to “spend five days with his present girlfriend in Baguio City,” the “summer capital” of the Philippines. He also wrote that he would “treat” his nephews to fast food chain restaurants, such as McDonald’s and Jollibee, during his second and third years of deployment. In terms of financial goals, Ian signaled how significant family ties and alliances are to him when he expressed his wish to finance his sister’s examinations that would allow her to work abroad in Hong Kong. In addition to providing financial support for his sister, he would like to save his money for a number of people in his family: in his first year of work, he plans to pay off his debt to his friend; in the second year, he wants to buy a tricycle (a motorcycle fashioned for passenger transport) for the husband of his eldest sister; in his third year, he wants to buy another tricycle for his elder brother; in his fourth year, he wants to buy a house and lot for his mother; and in his fifth year, he wants to buy an “FX taxi” (a Toyota shuttle car) for his father.

While Yea (2010, 4) argues that remittance research for the most part has “highlighted the narrow range of forms scribed to remittances which are often limited to financial flows which are large-scale and quantifiable,” Ian’s dream map proves that there is another category of remittances. By distributing his extra, earned income—his remittances—to different members of his extended family, via myriad strategies—trips, food, examination fees, vehicles, and properties—Ian not only seeks to improve his relationships with his family and girlfriend but also seems to pay back his financial and filial “debts” with both emotional gratitude and economic interest. He, moreover, solidifies his superordinate position as an economic actor by recognizing the lack of income-generating resources available in his household and by taking measures to fill in those gaps with investments. “What have traditionally been referred to as non-productive remittances, including luxury household goods, housing investments, or money spent on food or every day needs,” Yea (2010, 4) points out, can in fact be productive as Ian demonstrates. These “so-called unproductive remittances” thereby suggest that there are indeed “social experiences and gendered particularities of remittances” (Wong 2006, quoted in Yea 2010, 4). These characteristics can work to alter the traditional pathway and transition tempo to adulthood, which can be traced in the following detailed analysis of each step, or each year, in the dream map.

In looking ahead to their first year of working on the seas, a majority of the young men disclosed their intention to gain steady employment to increase monetary savings, which would help to support their family, especially for investments that could lead to more capital in the future, such as the education of their siblings. This foresight indicates that they are indeed conscious of their debt to those who had supported their dreams of becoming seafarers, and perhaps due to their obligations to them, these young men were now considering deferring marriage and parenthood. This idea supports the demographic trend that “age at first marriage is relatively late in Philippine society” (Varga and Zosa-Feranil 2003, 10). Of the household population 10 years old and over in 2007, 45.3 percent were married while 44.3 percent were never married (National Statistics Office 2010b). Seventy-five percent of males between the ages of 20 and 24 were never married, while 57.5 percent of females in this age group were never married—an increase from the 45 percent of never married women found in 1999 by Balk and Raymundo (1999). Between the ages of 25 and 29, 42.3 percent of males were never married, while 29.4 percent of females in this group were never married (National Statistics Office 2010d).

While more males than females are remaining single, the young seafarers’ sense of responsibility toward their family continues to be steadfast as they dream of giving financial assistance during their potential second year of work. Isaiah, for instance, expresses his determination to do it properly and rationally by declaring, “I’m going to share my blessings to some of my relatives. But most [will be given] to my parents but there will be a limit.” Four young men also wrote that it was their wish to “upgrade” by continuing their seafarer training and taking short courses for career development, promotion, or certification. Through professional and continuing education programs, these young men hope that investing in their human capital will enable them to potentially earn a higher wage. In contrast to Ian, who wanted to pay off his utang (debt) right away to his friend in his first year of work, only two other young men wanted to save enough money to pay off their debt to financial lenders in their second year.

By the anticipated third year of work, all the young men were only interested in two things, which also became their primary concerns during their perceived fourth year of work. For these two years, they wanted to focus on seeing both their financial investments and personal relationships “grow” to be successful. That is, first, they wanted to invest in more permanent forms of financial capital, such as houses for their parents; land lots; farms; small businesses; and vehicles, such as cars or motorcycles, that could make additional profit as public passenger transportation services. Second, they wanted to prepare for marriage by saving money for romantic dates, the introduction of future in-laws to their family, and a wedding.

Following this trajectory of investing their money and building their personal relationships, most young men (ten of them) wanted to start their own families by having a baby during the fifth year of their deployment. While three men expressed a wish to have more than one child by using the words “kids” and “children” in their replies, only one explicitly wished to “add one more baby!!” By fulfilling their debts of gratitude toward their families and girlfriends—with intentions to invest in their households by saving and growing their money and having (more) children—these young men seem to be performing the dominant discourses of masculinity that Pingol (2001) described. In preparing for roles as provider and procreator, they seem to be able to preserve their masculinity and sexuality albeit from afar.

It is clear, however, from these dream maps that “remittances, earnings, and spending patterns represent and mean far more than simple material support to households,” as McKay states (2011, 9). Ideally, young male migrants can shed their immature and irresponsible Peter Pan images and break free from their reputation as “exemplars of masculinity” (Connell 2005), a term used by McKay (2010, 1) to denote their precarious, adventurous, and high-paying work. Instead, they could embody what McKay (2010, 5) claims is a “mature and emotionally-rich masculinity” by transcending their traditional gender roles as economic provider and procreator to become more professional in their careers, responsible in their debts and obligations, and family oriented in their personal lives. Seafaring, McKay (2011, 4) concludes, can subsequently provide men with “the means to fulfill the key elements of successful adult masculinity—work, breadwinning, family, and community respect,” which he calls the “Filipino ‘package deal.’”

A case in point is the complete dream map of Miguel (see Table 1). In comparison to the rest of the young seafarers, we see a careful, calculated mapping of financial and family goals. Here in this clear and mature trajectory, Miguel illustrates not only McKay’s version of the “package deal” but also what Rumbaut and Komaie (2010) delineate as the “exit from adolescence and entry into adult roles and responsibilities [that] typically entails status transitions from school to work and from one’s family of origin to the formation of new intimate relationships” (p. 47). While Rumbaut and Komaie (2010, 49) insist that the decision to migrate is itself “a definitive adult transition,” Miguel not only exemplifies adulthood, but he is mature and “emotionally masculine.” In constructing his career and family life in a purposeful trajectory in this dream map, the family evidently becomes the source of the young man’s values, intentions, practices, and behaviors later in life. The dream maps of Miguel and others therefore demonstrate that in the quest to be the package deal, young adult males are able to be flexible about the gendered roles and practices ascribed to them.

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Table 1

Miguel’s Dream Map

Year	Financial Goals	Family Goals
1	First, I will help the people who helped me in my expenses and especially my parents.	I would like my parents to have their own business so that we will have fast-paced prosperity.
2	Second, I will still help my family. But I will also give them money to manage a business.	I will give enough money to my parents and if they have made sufficient profits I will take the board exam.
3	I will have my own house and will let my parents and my wife stay there.	In my fourth year as an engineer, I will get married.
4	In this year, if I already have a nice position, I will buy my dream car.	Even if I already have a wife, I will still pursue upgrading my career and still help my parents.
5	After five years, I hope I shall have a big amount of savings so that I will no longer work as a seaman. Instead, I will have my own business so that I can be with my family.	I wish by this time, God will still give me time to pursue my career to support my family and my parents.

Discussion

In transitioning to adulthood, young adults in the Philippines must negotiate a range of factors, from a demographic situation in which a high population growth rate has created intergenerational dependency through the simultaneous support extended to children, young adults, and the elderly to an economic environment in which males more than females face high unemployment rates and an oversupply of labor. Along with this unstable, low-wage labor market, young adults largely live in a traditional society that requires observance of cultural values, such as utang na loob, to guarantee their future familial and financial assistance. This study has considered how this system of reciprocal obligations and behavioral expectations compels many families to invest in children who are skilled, competitive, and could successfully earn higher wages that could later be circulated back into the household. At the same time, the study has shown that these cultural debts figure into young adults’ decisions about work and family life.

In surveying how nongovernmental centers and organizations, such as ISNTC and ATIKHA, provide services and aid to those transitioning to adulthood, this study utilized an exercise given at a predeployment orientation seminar to explore how young adults’ perceive their entry into the global labor force as land- or sea-based OFWs to be both a solution to improving these impoverished conditions as well as to fulfilling their debts of gratitude toward their families. Drawing on cognitive dream maps, this study was able to comparatively chart young male seafarers’ intentions toward financial and family goals for five successive years. In the process, the dream maps trace not only the source of intergenerational transfers of material and social assistance to cultural values but also reveal how paying back financial and filial debts with emotional gratitude and economic interest can contribute to gendered behaviors and practices that can effectively delay other markers of the transition to adulthood, such as courtship, marriage, and parenthood.

The dream maps have illustrated that young adult men, in their first year of deployment, would like to focus on increasing their monetary savings, which could then be distributed around the household to help improve the family’s economic status and help build family investments—be it in paying for a sibling’s education or providing the start-up funds for income-generating projects. In their second year of work, young adult men would like to secure their employment, expressing an interest in pursuing further career development and training to earn certifications and promotions that could potentially result in higher wages and would allow them to continue to support their families financially. By the third and fourth years of offshore work, young adult men would like to develop their financial investments by securing more permanent forms of capital such as property. In addition, they indicate a strong commitment to their personal relationships by anticipating the need to prepare for dating, wedding, and marriage expenses. For the fifth year of work abroad, a majority of the young adult men foresee starting their own families.

The dream maps show that the family takes precedence during the first few years of young adult men’s deployment, while it is not until later in the five-year plan that personal, romantic relationships become the priority. This delay in courtship, marriage, and parenthood suggests that filial and financial debts figure prominently in the decision to migrate and continue working overseas. The delay also demonstrates that young adult men could transcend their traditional gender roles as mere economic provider and procreator to become more career-driven, financially stable, emotionally able, and family oriented before embarking on larger roles as husband, partner, and father. Through the young seafarers and their construction of dream maps, we are able to better understand the extent to which young Filipino adult males craft and package their masculine identities, family behaviors, and work practices in relation to local and global conditions; to present and future time frames; and even in relation to their family members and prospective girlfriends, wives, and children.

As young Filipinos transition into adulthood in migratory circumstances, it is important to note that they are entering a sophisticated system of institutionalized labor migration, through the government with its state-led labor migration program that started in the 1970s, the private sector with recruitment agencies and educational centers such as ISNTC, and the nonprofit or nongovernmental organization sector with advocacy and civil society groups such as ATIKHA. To promote the protection of OFWs, Asis (2008) states that the Philippines has “built an elaborate bureaucracy” with the establishment of the Philippine Overseas Employment Administration (POEA), Overseas Workers Welfare Administration (OWWA), and the Office of the Undersecretary for Migrant Workers Affairs; has ratified the International Convention to Promote the Rights of All Migrant Workers and Members of Their Families; and has passed two main laws, the Migrant Workers and Overseas Filipinos Act of 1995 (Republic Act 8042) and the Anti-Trafficking in Persons Act of 2003 (Republic Act 9208). Despite Section Two of Republic Act 8042, which states that “the State does not promote overseas employment as a means to sustain economic growth and national development,” labor migration undoubtedly continues to be “part of the government’s development strategy in the context of globalization” (Asis 2008, 86).

Consequently, for young adults to remain competitive in today’s global economy, social policies that ensure their completion of higher or continuing education as well as initiatives that secure young adults’ early career training should be of prime concern. Furthermore, policies that promote gender equality in the labor market and workplace can serve to facilitate economic independence and stimulate other markers of adulthood, namely, marriage, childbearing, and childrearing. But while a youthful labor force is driving economic growth both at home and abroad, the growing young population in the Philippines creates dependent generations and extended families with the pressure to support them directed toward young employed adults. Programs that offer free, affordable, or subsidized quality social services and resources that are also easily accessible to family members could allow young adults to focus on stabilizing their positions at work and in their personal lives.

Finally, in pointing to the government’s lack of such programs, it becomes necessary, as proposed by Berlin, Furstenberg, and Waters (2010, 3), to rethink how social institutions beyond schools, government agencies, and the family are assisting and educating young adults more often in partnership, similar to ISNTC and ATIKHA. Accordingly, the study recognizes the need for continued job creation at the local, national, and international levels that would employ young people; the need to educate prospective laborers, migrants, their families, and communities about work conditions and mechanisms; and the need to prepare return migrants for life back in the Philippines while they are still overseas. Yet in delivering a wealth of economic, educational, health, legal, and psychosocial services that would otherwise be unavailable or too costly through the state for members of the community, institutions, such as ATIKHA, risk encouraging and reproducing future young migrants, such as the male seafarers in this study, who are skilled, informed, financially healthy, and emotionally mature, instead of producing educated young adults who are employed at home in the Philippines.