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.