MITIGATING CRIME IN A SLUM COMMUNITY: UNDERSTANDING THE ROLE OF SOCIAL STRUCTURES, SOCIAL PROCESSES, AND COMMUNITY CULTURE IN A NEIGHBORHOOD INTERVENTION PROGRAM By Raymund E. Narag A DISSERTATION Submitted to Michigan State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Criminal Justice – Doctor of Philosophy 2013 ABSTRACT MITIGATING CRIME IN A SLUM COMMUNITY: UNDERSTANDING THE ROLE OF SOCIAL STRUCTURES, SOCIAL PROCESSES, AND COMMUNITY CULTURE IN A NEIGHBORHOOD INTERVENTION PROGRAM By Raymund E. Narag An emerging theoretical framework among western scholars suggests that three facets of a community, namely: social structures, social processes, and culture, are equally important in keeping communities relatively free from crime, delinquency, and other negative behaviors. This framework also suggests that these three facets must be addressed simultaneously in community interventions to sustain behavioral changes since failure to improve in one aspect may negate the gains in the other aspects. While this theoretical framework had been utilized in community-based interventions in the United States, it had not been used to assess interventions in a developing country like the Philippines. This dissertation utilizes qualitative data collected in a slum area in Metro Manila, the Philippines, where residents partnered with the Gawad Kalinga, a Non-Governmental Organization that habilitates slum communities with new housing and a host of social interventions. This dissertation aims to determine the robustness of the above theoretical framework by assessing the social structures, social processes, and culture within a slum area in the Philippines before and after the Gawad Kalinga intervention. Using a phenomenological approach, this dissertation aims to understand the lived experiences of slum residents prior to the Gawad Kalinga program as their community underwent the Gawad Kalinga transformation. This dissertation finds through thick narratives of slum residents that the challenges posed by the structural conditions and the attendant social processes and culture of the slum setup prior to Gawad Kalinga contributed to elevated levels of crime, delinquency, and other negative behaviors. Narratives also indicate that changes in the social structures, social processes, and community culture introduced through the Gawad Kalinga program improved the behaviors of residents in the community. However, the experiences of rekals (residents who rejected the program) and the pendings (residents whose houses were not yet constructed) suggested that the rejection or absence of change in one aspect of the community may negate the gains in other aspects, as few of these residents continued to exhibit negative behaviors. These findings are congruent to the claims of the western theoretical framework and underscore the importance of incorporating simultaneously the three community facets of social structures, social processes, and culture in theory and policy prescriptions. Copyright by RAYMUND E. NARAG 2013 DEDICATION I lovingly dedicate this work: To my Angels (Marta Rayshell Angela and Angeline Emmanuelle) for understanding why, for seemingly endless time, daddy needs to go home late at night and burn the midnight oil; To my parents and sisters for supporting all my endeavors; To my brods who continually fight for justice and inspire me to do the same; To the GK residents who showed me the essence of “Walang iwanan” (No one left behind); To Shella, the love of my life, for always being there and the source of inspiration and strength. To God all be the Glory! v ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I thank Dr. Sheila Royo Maxwell for all the support she had given me through the years. I would not have received this degree without her assistance. She was not only my academic mentor but, together with Chris Maxwell, were also Ate and Kuya to me and my wife. I also thank Dr. Edmund McGarrell, Dr. Jesenia Pizarro-Terrill, and Dr. Rebecca Campbell for their guidance as members of my committee. I learned a lot from their comments and suggestions. I also thank the faculty and staff of the School of Criminal Justice for the academic and administrative support they extended me through all the years. I also thank Manish Madan and my cohorts in the graduate school for providing me comfort in the face of similar challenges we faced. I also thank the Alociljas (Kuya Rex, Ate Vangie and JD) for being our spiritual family and whose home we considered our own while in East Lansing. I also thank members of the MSU Filipino Club for helping me raise the money to support the GK Sibol program and for all the memorable years of being a family in Barangay Charles. vi TABLE OF CONTENTS LIST OF TABLES……………………………………………………………………… x LIST OF FIGURES……………………………………………………………………… xi CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION……………………………………………………………………. … Overview of Communities and Crime…………………………………………………… Limitations of the Previous Research………………………………………………… … Purpose and Significance of the Study………………………………………………....... CHAPTER 2 REVIEW OF LITERATURE……………………………………………………………. The Importance of Social Structures and the Mediating Effects of Social Process Variables…………………………………………………………………………………. Further Refinements of the Social Disorganization Theory…………………....... Social Structures…………………………………………………………. Social Processes………………………………………………………… Challenges to the Systemic Model……………………………………………… Reconceptualizing Community Culture………………………………………… Cultural Attenuation…………………………………………………….. Cultural Transmission…………………………………………………… Culture as a Frame: Legal Cynicism…………………………………….. CHAPTER 3 STUDY SETTING………………………………………………………………………. The Growth of Urban Populations in the Philippines…………………………… Structural Conditions of Metro Manila Slums………………………………....... The Metro Manila Slum Dynamics: Social Processes and Community Culture… The Gawad Kalinga Community………………………………………………… 1 1 3 4 7 7 9 9 12 14 16 17 17 19 26 26 29 31 33 CHAPTER 4 RESEARCH QUESTIONS……………………………………………………………… 38 CHAPTER 5 METHODS AND DATA………………………………………………………………… Data Sources……………………………………………………………………… Participant Observation…………………………………………………… In-depth Interviews………………………………………………………. Focus Group Discussions………………………………………………… Survey……………………………………………………………………. Other Sources of Data……………………………………………………. Data Analysis…………………………………………………………………….. Phenomenological Approach…………………………………………….. vii 42 42 43 45 47 48 48 49 49 Coding Process ………………………………………………………….. 51 Supplemental Data……………………………………………………….. 54 CHAPTER 6 RESIDENTS’ LIVED EXPERIENCES WITH SLUM CONDITIONS………………….. 59 Overall Essence of Living in Slum Community……………………………………. 60 Structural conditions: Poverty, Joblessness, Land Squatting, Housing Overcrowding, Population Heterogeneity and Residential Instability …………… 62 Lack of Money and Resources…………………………………………….. 62 Non-Ownership of the Land……………………………………………….. 65 Constant Threat of Physical Demolitions………………………………….. 69 Community and Household Overcrowding………………………………... 70 Population Heterogeneity and Residential Instability …………………….. 76 Social Processes: Coping Mechanisms among Residents………………………….. 78 Forming an Organization………………………………………………….. 78 Use of Social Processes for Negative Purposes………………………….... 81 Use of Vertical ties for Deviant Purposes…………………………………. 82 Prevalence of Factionalism and Favoritism ………………………………. 83 Community Culture…………………………………………………………………. 85 Code of Survival…………………………………………………………… 85 Sense of Powerlessness…………………………………………………….. 89 Taking Matters on Their Own Hands …………………………………… 91 Cognitive Landscapes …………………………………………………… 92 Delinquent and Deviant Behaviors…………………………………………………..95 Public Drinking and Intoxication…………………………………………. 96 Delinquent Youths………………………………………………………… 97 Summary……………………………………………………………………………..99 CHAPTER 7 RESIDENTS’ LIVED EXPERIENCES WITH GAWAD KALINGA……………………. 102 Overall Essence of Change Through the Gawad Kalinga Program………………. 103 Addressing the Structural Conditions…………………………………………….. 104 Addressing Community and Housing Overcrowding…………………….. 105 Homeownership: No Longer a Squatter………………………………….. 111 Provisions of Employment………………………………………………… 115 Overcoming Population Heterogeneity……………………………………. 123 Overcoming Residential Instability……………………………………….. 125 Redirecting Social Processes Towards Conventional Ends……………………….. 127 The Kapitbahayan………………………………………………………….. 129 The Community Transformation……………………………………………129 Manifestations of Collective Efficacy………………………………………132 Use of Vertical Ties for Conventional Purposes……………………………133 Sustaining the Gains of the Gawad Kalinga Program………………………133 Eliminating Favoritism and Factionalism………………………………….. 135 Further Engagement in the Community……………………………………. 136 Change in Community Culture…………………………………………………….. 138 viii Sense of Responsibility…………………………………………………….. 140 Sense of Empowerment…………………………………………………… 142 Trust in the System ……………………………………………………….. 145 Cognitive Landscapes…………………………………………………….. 147 Summary………………………………………………………………………….. 148 CHAPTER 8 EXPLANATIONS FOR CONTINUING DEVIANT BEHAVIORS…………………… 150 The Rekals and the Pendings………………………………………………………. 151 The Lived Experiences of the Rekals. …………………………………….. 153 The Lived Experiences of the Pendings…………………………………… 159 CHAPTER 9 SUMMARY AND DISCUSSION ……………………………………………………… 166 Using the Western Theoretical Framework to Explain the Resident Previous Slum Conditions………………………………………………………………………….. 172 Summary…………………………………………………………………… 172 The Salience of Social Structures………………………………………….. 175 The Role and Conceptualization of Culture……………………………….. 176 Social Ties in Disadvantaged Communities……………………………….. 178 Using the Western Theoretical Framework to Explain Residents’ Experiences with Gawad Kalinga Program…………………………………………………………… 180 Summary…………………………………………………………………… 180 Effects of Structural Change……………………………………………….. 183 The Role of Social Processes………………………………………………. 184 The Role of Community Culture………………………………………… 186 Using the Western Theoretical Framework to Explain the Persistence of Deviant Behaviors ………………………………………………………………………..… 187 Summary…………………………………………………………………… 187 Absence of at Least One of the Components in Change Process………….. 188 Conclusions, Recommendations and Limitations…………………………………. 189 APPENDICES …………………………………………………………………………… 194 APPENDIX A: In-depth Interview Protocol………………………………………..195 APPENDIX B: Survey Instrument………………………………………………… 198 APPENDIX C: Researcher Positionality and Addressing Bias: A Field Experience in Retrospect………………………………………… 210 REFERENCES …………………………………………………………………………… 216 ix LIST OF TABLES Table 1. Intervention on Community Structures …………………………………………. 169 Table 2. Intervention on Social Processes………………………………………………… 170 Table 3. Intervention on Community Culture and Effects on Behavior…………………… 171 x LIST OF FIGURES FIGURE 1. The Social Disorganization Theory………………………………………………7 FIGURE 2. The Systemic Model of Social Disorganization Theory………………………….9 FIGURE 3. Community Overcrowding……………………………………………………….71 xi CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION Overview of Communities and Crime Scholars in the communities and crime area had been searching for the characteristics of communities that breed crime, delinquency and other negative behaviors. Early in the century, through observations in the urban dynamics of Chicago, social disorganization theorists like Shaw and McKay (1942) suggested that the social structures of the community, primarily its levels of poverty, ethnic and racial heterogeneity, and residential instability, are directly related to its level of crime and delinquency. However, Shaw and McKay (1942) did not explain the mechanisms in which social structures affect community level crime rates. This led to the efforts to clarify the tenets of the social disorganization theory. Using a systemic framework (Kasarda & Janowitz, 1974), which assumes that residential stability is a key mechanism in developing a community’s social life, Sampson and Groves (1989) reformulated the social disorganization theory and suggested that it is the community’s social processes that mediated the impact of structural factors on crime. Specifically, they found that the capacity of the community to informally supervise its youth, its level of organizational participation, and the thickness of its local friendship networks mediate the deleterious impact of the structural factors on crime and victimization (Sampson & Groves, 1989). This clarification led to the reinvigoration of the social disorganization theory and inspired scholars to determine other structural and social process variables that specify the effects of neighborhoods on crime and delinquency. However, despite the presence of studies that support the systemic model, there are some questions that remain. Empirical studies, especially those employing qualitative approaches, persistently show that communities exhibit multiple conditions and dynamics (Anderson, 1999; 1 Horowitz, 1987; Venkatesh, 1997), which could be masked in quantitative analyses. For example, qualitative studies show that there are sections in poor communities that manifested strong and interlocking ties among residents (Horowitz, 1987; Suttles, 1968; Whyte 1943). Second, there are some studies that document that even when poor communities had been transformed through gentrification, and as such, the structural conditions had improved, a section of these communities are still crime-prone or drug-infested (Bourgois, 2003; Kirk & Matsuda, 2011; Rymond-Richmond, 2007). Additionally, more recent research finds that the dynamics of the community, like social cohesion and informal control, instead of being a social resource, can also be utilized by some members of the community to shield other errant members from the police (Anderson, 1999). Other qualitative studies also show that informal control can be used by gangs to regulate the behavior of residents (Pattillo, 1998; Rymond-Richmond, 2007). These more detailed descriptions of community life that were based on the lived experiences of the residents are contrary to the assumptions of the systemic model. This once again forced criminologists to reformulate the social disorganization theory and to reconceptualize and reintroduce the role of community culture. In this new conceptualization, culture is presented as a “way to view things” or a “cultural frame” which departs from the traditional view where culture is conceptualized as “values or norms” (Harding, 2007; Kirk & Papachristos, 2011; Sampson & Bean, 2005). A cultural frame evolves out of the residents’ experiences with the community social structures and institutional arrangements, like experiences of social isolation and neglectful treatment from the police and other formal authorities (Anderson, 2005; Kirk & Papachristos, 2011; Sampson & Bean, 2005). A cultural frame that is gaining currency is the notion of legal cynicism or when residents subscribe to the orientation that it is “okay to break the law as long as no one is hurt, it is okay to break the law 2 once in a while, or laws are made to be broken” among other views (Sampson & JeglumBartusch, 1998). With this new conceptualization, scholars claim that culture conditions the impact of community social processes on crime and delinquency. Accordingly, in communities where the cultural frame of the residents is predominantly non-cynical, the community social processes, like the social network and informal control, will be a resource used by residents to control crime and delinquency. However, in communities where the predominant cultural frame is legally cynical, the same social processes can be used to advance criminal gains. Given these studies, there is an emerging theoretical consensus among scholars that the three aspects of the community (social structure, social processes, and community culture) must be paid simultaneous attention in order to keep communities relatively free from crime, delinquency, and other negative behaviors. This theoretical model also suggests that failure to improve in one aspect may stunt or even negate the gains in other aspects. Limitations of the Previous Research While these three aspects of the community had been recognized as important, very few studies incorporated these three aspects simultaneously in their analyses (Kirk & Papachristos, 2011). Most quantitative studies investigated the interplay of social structures and social processes but failed to include aspects of community culture (Kubrin & Weitzer, 2003a). This is a major shortcoming because failure to include community culture has resulted in contradictory findings on the effects of community social processes, like social ties and informal control, on crime, delinquency, and other negative behaviors. Additionally, there is a dearth of research that documents the specific mechanisms on how community culture conditions the impact of social structures and social processes on crime, delinquency, and other negative behaviors. Most studies employed quantitative analyses that usually gloss over the nuances of community life 3 (Rymond-Richmond, 2007). More qualitative and in-depth studies of communities that investigate the lived experiences of residents as they consciously tackle the three community aspects are needed to shed light on the matter. Finally, this theoretical framework is seldom used to assess community dynamics outside the United States. There is little knowledge whether this theoretical framework is applicable in non-western settings. Purpose and Significance of the Study This dissertation research addresses these three major limitations. It investigates the applicability of this western theoretical model by utilizing a qualitative dataset that was collected to understand the lived experiences of residents in a slum community in Metro Manila, the Philippines. This slum community had encountered structural constraints like poverty, unemployment, land squatting, housing overcrowding, population heterogeneity, and residential instability. In the five years prior to data gathering, the community was engaged in a conscious effort to improve its conditions. This community forged a partnership with Gawad Kalinga, a Non-Governmental Organization that assists slum communities to become self-reliant, productive and vibrant. Specifically, the community aimed to alleviate the structural problems like poverty, joblessness, land squatting, and housing overcrowding; improve the community social processes through community organizing and mobilization; and redirect community slum culture toward civic and spiritual orientations. Employing a phenomenological approach to understand the lived experiences of the residents, this dissertation research asks the following: A.) What were the residents experiences with their previous slum conditions? B.) What were their experiences as their community underwent structural, social processes, and cultural change? and C.) What explains the persistence of negative and deviant behaviors among some residents? These questions provide an opportunity to test the claims of the western theoretical model. 4 Specifically, by utilizing the detailed narrative of the research participants, this dissertation research advances the knowledge on how changes in the social structures, social processes, and community culture, independently or in concert, affect residents’ behaviors. This dissertation also documents the specific dynamics and manifestations of those changes. Finally, given that this dataset was collected in a developing country in Southeast Asia, this research also advances our understanding on whether criminological theories derived in the West are robust in explaining community level crime and delinquency rates in other settings. The dissertation is organized in the following manner. In Chapter 2, I review how scholars conceptualized the social structures and social process variables. I highlight some studies that challenged the assumptions of the systemic model. I also discuss the efforts to reintroduce the role of community culture to account for these challenges. I then present the theoretical framework that integrates the three community aspects and I spell out the policy prescriptions for community-based initiatives. In Chapter 3, I describe the study setting. I provide a brief discussion about the social, economic and cultural forces that contributed to the formation and dynamics of slum communities in the urban centers of the Philippines. I also note the similarities and differences with the formation and dynamics of disadvantaged communities in the inner cities in the United States. In Chapter 4, I elaborate on the research questions that aim to verify the applicability of the theoretical model in explaining community dynamics in a non-western setting. In Chapter 5, the methodology section, I enumerate the different sources of data and how these data were collected. I describe how the phenomenological approach is best suited to understand the lived experiences of the research participants. I also describe the process of coding and analyzing the qualitative information and how supplemental data were utilized. I report my findings in Chapters 6, 7 and 8. Chapter 6 analyzes the experiences of the 5 residents with the slum conditions; Chapter 7 analyzes their experiences with the Gawad Kalinga program; and Chapter 8 analyzes the persistence of discrepant experiences. In Chapter 9, I integrate the findings and discuss the theoretical and policy implications of this dissertation research. 6 CHAPTER 2 REVIEW OF LITERATURE The Importance of Social Structures and the Mediating Effects of Social Process Variables A traditional tenet of the social disorganization theory states that social structures like poverty, ethnic and racial heterogeneity, and residential instability directly affect the community’s crime and delinquency rates (Shaw & McKay, 1942). Using correlational analyses and rudimentary crime mapping strategies (Bursik & Grasmick, 1993) to understand the urban th dynamics of Chicago in the early 20 century, Shaw and McKay (1942) observed that areas characterized by structural disadvantages are the same areas with high delinquency rates. They also observed that these findings persisted even when the racial and ethnic composition of the residents had changed. This was a key assertion during this time as it emphasized the role of communities, beyond individual level characteristics, in the etiology of delinquency and crime (See Figure 1). Social Structures Poverty Delinquency and crime Ethnic heterogeneity Residential stability Figure 1. The Social Disorganization Theory 7 However, Shaw and McKay (1942) were not able to identify the specific mechanisms on how these structural variables affected crime and delinquency rates. For a time, this model was also considered tautological as the independent (predictor) and dependent (outcome) variables were manifested in the same community areas (Kornhauser, 1978). For example, socially disorganized areas both manifested high rates of poverty (independent variable) and juvenile delinquency (dependent variable). The inability to clarify the characteristics of socially disorganized communities led to the rejection of this model (Bursik & Grasmick, 1993). A major theoretical breakthrough came with the introduction of the systemic model of neighborhood life by Kasarda and Janowitz in 1974. The systemic model emphasizes the view that “local communities are a complex system of friendship and kinship networks and formal and informal associational ties rooted in family life and ongoing socialization process” (Kasarda & Janowitz, 1974:329). The systemic model emphasizes the role of the interlocking networks among neighborhood residents, which accrues through a prolonged stay in a community, and serves as a prerequisite for the activation of informal control (Bursik, 1988; Bursik & Grasmick, 1993). In this conceptualization, community structural conditions, like poverty, ethnic and racial heterogeneity and particularly, residential instability, undermine the community’s social cohesion and solidarity which then impede the articulation of common goals (Bursik & Grasmick, 1993). As explicated by Kornhauser (1978), the inability of the community to realize common goals is what constitutes social disorganization (See Figure 2). 8 Social Structures Poverty Social Processes Racial/ethnic heterogeneity Social ties/ networks Informal control Delinquency/ Crime Residential stability Figure 2. The Systemic Model of Social Disorganization Theory The implication of the systemic model is that there is a dichotomy in neighborhood configuration. That is, structurally disadvantaged neighborhoods, especially those characterized by population turnover, are assumed to develop anomic social ties among its residents, whereas structurally advantaged neighborhoods are assumed to manifest dense and interlocking ties. For a time, this assumption has rarely been questioned (Rymond-Richmond, 2007). The first test of the systemic model was conducted by Sampson and Groves (1989) using British Crime Surveys. In this study, they found that community levels of friendship networks, organizational participation, and supervision of youths (as indicators of social processes) mediated the impact of social structures on crime and victimization (Sampson & Groves, 1989). Further Refinements of the Social Disorganization Theory Social Structures. Sampson and Groves (1989) findings led to the revival of the interest in social disorganization theory. It also inspired scholars to reintroduce other social structures and identify social processes that specify the effects of neighborhoods on crime and delinquency. By making this delineation, scholars refer to “social structures” as the static, less amenable to change feature of the community, whereas “social processes” refer to the social-interactional and 9 institutional dimensions that explains how neighborhood effects are transmitted (Sampson et al., 2002). Along the lines of social structures, the notion of family disruption (Cattarello, 2000; Sampson & Groves, 1989; Sampson, 1985) was introduced as a key structural characteristic of American communities to account for the growing number of single or female headed families. Accordingly, the prevalence of single or female-headed households affects the community’s capacity for social guardianship (Sampson, 1985). Other community structural characteristics include levels of urbanization (Bellair, 2000; Fischer, 1982; Sampson & Groves, 1989; Warner & Rountree, 1997), population density (Browning, 2009; Wirth, 1938), household crowding (Cattarello, 2000) and age structure or the percentage of the community population who are young (Greenberg, 1977). All these structural characteristics are conceptualized to affect to 1 community’s social networks and the capacity to realize common goals. Additionally, scholars recognized the changing patterns in the American urban centers, especially in the Midwest and Eastern cities, where white middle class residents transferred to the suburbs and traditional lowskill manufacturing jobs moved elsewhere (Wilson, 1987). This led to joblessness especially among African American males, which then placed a considerable strain on their capacity to sustain traditional intact families (Wilson, 1987). Coupled with the residential segregation adapted by commercial housing, poor minority residents were concentrated in the inner city of major urban centers in the United States (Massey & Denton, 1993). The recognition of this urban configuration eventually led to the introduction of the notion of concentrated disadvantage which is a composite measure of the percentage of poor, unemployed, African Americans, 1  In  due  time,  scholars  realized  that  most  of  these  structural  characteristics,  when  included  in   the  same  regression  models,  are  correlated  to  each  other  (Land,  McCall,  &  Cohen,  1990).   10 female-headed households, 18 years and below and those receiving public assistance in a 2 community. The notion of residential instability, which was originally conceptualized to reflect the tendency of residents to move out of the neighborhoods as soon as their economic conditions improved, and measured in terms of the length of stay in the community, was also expanded by incorporating the notion of homeownership. Homeowners, due to their financial investments, are believed to have a vested interest in supporting the commonwealth of neighborhood life (Sampson et al., 1997). Finally, scholars introduced the notion of immigrant concentration to account for the growing presence of non-African American minorities. This is especially true in the cities on the western side of the United States where Latinos have become the dominant minority. The notion of immigrant concentration is particularly revealing as contrary to the earlier findings that immigrants bring with them their old world values that created conflict in the communities they settled in, the new wave of immigrants seemed to provide a cooling effect to their communities (Martinez, 2002; Sampson & Bean, 2005). The point to be taken from these studies is that the structural characteristics of the community are strong predictors of community crime and delinquency rates. However, the particular structural variable that is salient may change from community to community and from time to time (Bursik, 1986). For the purposes of this research, this also implies that the structural conditions of communities in developing countries, due to their unique cultural, social, economic and political dynamics, may be manifested differently. The theory suggests, however, that 2  The  introduction  of  this  composite  measure  is  a  methodological  breakthrough  as  it  improved   the  capacity  of  structural  variables  to  explain  the  variations  in  crime  in  the  statistical  models.     The  drawback,  however,  is  that  by  combining  the  different  variables,  one  cannot  be  sure  which   among  the  variables  has  the  most  impact  (Small  &  Newman,  2001).     11 whatever its form, the structural conditions of the community affects the community crime and delinquency rates. Social Processes. Scholars also refined the social process mechanisms that make communities resilient against crime, delinquency, and other negative outcomes. Taking off from the systemic model assumption on the role of social ties in the activation of informal control, scholars investigated how these processes are specifically manifested. For example, Bursik and Grasmick (1993) expounded on the notion of social control and suggested that this is manifested in three domains, that is: private, parochial and public. Accordingly, private social control corresponds to the guardianship by intimate members of the family and close friends, parochial social control pertains to the protection and supervision by neighbors and informal groups in the community and public social control refers to communities’ ability to mobilize the formal guardianship of state authorities (Bursik & Grasmick, 1993; Hunter, 1975). This differentiation emphasizes the horizontal (private and parochial) and vertical (public) ties residents need to access in order to be free from crime (Hope, 1995), with some studies suggesting that even if horizontal ties are strong, if the residents could not establish vertical relationship with the police and other governmental agencies, their communities may still be crime-prone (Bursik & Grasmick, 1993; Pattillo, 1998). Observers from other disciplines also posited that the capacity to activate informal control is dependent on social capital or the ability of residents to develop trust, common norms, and shared expectations in the community (Coleman, 1988; Putnam, 1995). Accordingly, communities with high levels of social capital are easily coordinated for the mutual benefit of residents (Putnam, 1995). Finally, Sampson and colleagues (1997) went a step further by introducing the notion of collective efficacy, which is defined as “social cohesion among neighbors combined with their willingness to intervene on behalf of the common good.” 12 Sampson and colleagues (1997) acknowledged that collective efficacy is dependent upon social capital stating that the willingness of local residents to intervene for the common good depends in large part on conditions of mutual trust and solidarity among neighbors. Sampson and colleagues also suggested that collective efficacy encompasses the capacity to mobilize resources from the outside (vertical ties) by recognizing the “differential ability of communities to extract public resources and respond to cuts in public services such as police patrols, fire stations, garbage collection, and housing code enforcement” (Sampson et al., 1997:918). Using the notion of collective efficacy, empirical studies were able to untangle the impact of community social processes on different social outcomes. For example, using data from the Project on Human Development in Chicago Neighborhoods (PHDCN), Sampson and colleagues (1997) found that communities with higher levels of collective efficacy have lower victimization, homicide, robbery and burglary rates, even after controlling for structural covariates like concentrated disadvantage, residential instability, and immigrant concentration and the individual characteristics of the respondents. The collective supervision as a component of collective efficacy makes it also a robust predictor of crimes that that are traditionally considered happening in the private domains. For example, communities with high levels of collective efficacy have lower rates of intimate partner violence (IPV) especially in areas where the communities view IPV as a form of violence (Browning, 2002). Utilizing data from the Los Angeles Family and Neighborhood Survey (LAFANS), researchers found that community level collective efficacy is related to individual level outcomes like obesity (Cohen et al., 2006) and depression (Vega et al., 2011). Other scholars successfully used this construct in predicting selfrated physical health (Browning & Cagney, 2002), youth sexual behavior (timing of first 13 intercourse) (Browning, Leventhal, & Brooks-Gunn, 2005), infant mortality and child-birth weight (Buka, Brennan, Rich-Edwards, Raudenbush, & Earls, 2003). The policy implication of these studies suggests that interventions must be directed toward improving community social processes like collective efficacy, on top of changing the structural conditions of the communities (Sampson et al., 1997). Community policing initiatives, for example, actively engage residents to identify community problems, and that community residents be part of its local control efforts (Skogan, 1990; Wells et al., 2006). Communitybased initiatives like the Weed and Seed incorporate improvements in social structures through provision of adult employment and economic advancements (Seeding component) and through strengthening of community involvement in the policing efforts (Weeding component) (Dunworth & Mills, 1999). Efforts to reduce drugs and other social problems in public housing in Chicago also included tenant involvement and job training and employment referrals to the residents (Hammett, Feins, Mason & Ellen, 1994). In these public housing initiatives, partnership were forged with local residents and housing authorities (Green et al., 1999). The aim was to improve the social and physical conditions of the public housing and to actively involve residents in finding solutions to local problems (McGarrell et al., 1999) Challenges to the Systemic Model Despite the presence of studies that support the systemic model, some questions remain. Qualitative studies, which presented a more detailed reality of community life, persistently challenge the findings of the systemic model. For example, contrary to the claim that structurally disadvantaged communities necessarily result in anomic ties (Kasarda & Janowitz, 1974), qualitative researchers persistently observed that inner city neighborhoods characterized by concentrated disadvantage have high levels of family, kinship, and friendship networks 14 (Anderson, 1999; Rymond-Richmond, 2007; Venkatesh, 1997; Wilson, 1996). Wilson (1996) explained that in socio-economically and geographically isolated neighborhoods, residents cannot move away from their communities resulting into forced rootedness in the area (Anderson, 1999). Additionally, in areas with chronic unemployment, residents devote more time with each other thus establishing strong personal bonds (Wilson, 1996). Also, in poor communities, residents develop intricate mechanisms to deal with poverty, like establishing informal economies that foster ties among residents (Anderson, 1999; Venkatesh, 1997). These ethnographic studies echoed earlier research done in slum neighborhoods. For example, Whyte (1943), Suttles (1968) and Horowitz (1987) all documented the presence of robust primary networks that existed in slum communities. These studies, which were based on the lived experiences of the residents, suggest that in some structurally disadvantaged communities, strong ties among residents can still flourish. All these findings from qualitative research cast doubt on the assumptions of the systemic model. Another anomaly, which cannot be sufficiently explained by the systemic model, is the observation that gentrifying a poor area does not necessarily translate to the reduction of crime. Studies showed that structural improvements, like housing restoration to entice homeownership, does not overcome ingrained community practices that are facilitative of crime (Kirk & Papachristos, 2011; Rymond-Richmond, 2007). Finally, and more critical to the systemic model, research persistently found that the social processes, like social cohesion and informal control, do not necessarily translate as a positive social resource. For example, Warner and Rountree (1997) found that communities with higher levels of social ties have higher burglary rates. Wells and colleagues (2006) also found that residents in communities with high levels of collective efficacy did not necessarily intervene more in the face of local problems compared to residents in 15 communities with low levels of collective efficacy. On the other hand, Pattillo (1998) observed that drug dealers embed themselves in the community’s family and friendship structure and used this network to shield themselves from the police. She also observed that gangs practiced informal control in regulating the behavior of residents (Pattillo, 1998). In this regard, social capital becomes a form of “criminal capital” (Colvin et al.,, 2002; Pattillo, 1998) that facilitates criminal behaviors. These contrary findings suggested that there are mechanisms aside from the community social structures and social processes that affect crime and delinquency (Kubrin & Weitzer, 2003a). These findings also emphasized the need to understand the lived experiences of the residents as they adopt different coping mechanisms to deal with their conditions, which may provide a clue on how culture conditions the impact of social processes. These challenges forced scholars to reintroduce and reconceptualize the notion of community culture. Reconceptualizing Community Culture In criminology, culture is usually cast in terms of “values or norms” that reside in a person (Sampson & Bean, 2005). Two competing models had been offered. The first model is known as “cultural attenuation” where conventional or pro-social values among community residents are assumed to be weakened thus freeing residents of moral qualms to be engaged in crime (Kornhauser, 1978; Warner, 2003). The other model is known as “cultural transmission” where deviant or anti-social values are assumed to be passed on from succeeding generation of residents (Matsueda, 1982; Shaw & McKay, 1942). Both cultural models, however, have weak predictive capability to explain community crime rates (Sampson & Bean, 2005). Enriched by the literature in modern urban ethnography and sociology of culture, a new conceptualization is being offered where culture is viewed as a “cultural frame” or a “way to view things.” A cultural 16 frame that is gaining currency is the notion of legal cynicism where the two traditional cultural perspectives in criminology are reconciled. Cultural Attenuation. The proponents of the cultural attenuation (Kornhauser, 1978; Warner, 2003) follow the logic of the systemic model by suggesting that structural conditions like poverty, population heterogeneity, and residential instability limit the extent to which residents are able to live out conventional values within the community. Wilson (1996) observed that structural changes in inner-city neighborhoods, such as the disappearance of manufacturing jobs and out-migration of the middle-class, have led to poor minority neighborhoods being socially isolated from middle-class resources, value reinforcements, and role models. He further contended that even if some residents still identify with the conventional values of the society, they may nonetheless be constrained to live this out due to the hardships imposed by pervasive poverty (Wilson, 1996). For example, being honest in all transactions or waiting to be married to have children may not be viable in poor communities that reward shrewdness in business dealings or where having children is a prerequisite to receive public financial assistance (Warner, 2003). Kornhauser (1978) initially argued that a culture is “strong” when similar values are not only widely shared by community members, but are also visibly present in everyday life, and regularly articulated in social relationships, such as when parents or neighbors tell children it is important to stay in school or to not engage in sexually promiscuous behavior. When culture is "weak" or attenuated, informal rules of conduct among community residents are not clear and residents have difficulty developing shared expectations from each other. In this conceptualization, culture is important because of its impact of weakening informal control, which posits that culture has an indirect effect on crime. 17 Cultural Transmission. Proponents of the cultural transmission perspective, on the other hand, suggest that culture has a more direct impact on criminal and delinquent behavior. In this conceptualization, high crime neighborhoods develop values conducive to the perpetration of crime and delinquency, which then socializes residents into the acceptance of these values. For example, Shaw and McKay (1942:236) documented that “it is perhaps common knowledge in the neighborhood that public funds are embezzled and that favors and special considerations can be received from some public officials through the payment of stipulated sums; the residents then assume that all officials can be influenced in this way.” In neighborhoods where rackets and criminal networks co-exist with conventional institutions, residents are differentially exposed thus acquiring value systems that may facilitate criminal behaviors (Sutherland, 1934; Sykes & Matza, 1957; Suttles, 1968). Suttles also reported that residents in a slum community develop a set of standards that take precedence over the “moral standards” of the conventional society and this indigenous standard determine how the slum residents act. Other scholars contended that in disadvantaged neighborhoods, youths still cling to the general dream of economic success and other middle class premiums, yet the mechanisms to achieve these are limited or blocked, thus forcing residents to innovate or to create alternative value systems (Merton, 1938; Cohen, 1955; Cloward and Ohlin, 1960). In explaining the “mafia culture” in Italian and American societies, Ianni (1974: 38) argued that poverty and powerlessness and the blocked opportunities these entail, are the origins of both community acceptance of organized crime and recruitment into mafia networks. Accordingly, the emergent deviant subculture creates logic of its own— it reorders the way of life of the community independent of the social structures that created it (Miller, 1958; Wolfgang & Ferracuti, 1967) and it is transmitted to succeeding generation of residents (Shaw & McKay, 1942). 18 Both cultural models have their respective adherents in the field of criminology. As mentioned earlier, however, the conceptualization of culture in terms of “values and norms” has limited the use of culture in community level research (Kubrin & Weitzer, 2003a; Sampson & Bean, 2005). Moreover, when used in either of the two formulations, cultural variables do not explain much of the variations in crime and delinquency (Sampson & Bean, 2005). Culture as a Frame: Legal Cynicism. Recent research in urban ethnography and sociology of culture offers a novel conceptualization of culture that can be used as a basis to integrate the two perspectives. Instead of conceptualizing culture in terms of “values and norms,” culture is conceptualized as a “way of viewing things” or a “cultural frame” that orders how residents observe, perceive, and interpret situations (Harding, 2007; Kirk & Papachristos, 2011; Sampson & Bean, 2005; Small & Newman, 2001; Wilson, 1996). In this perspective, culture serves as a “toolkit” of habits, skills and lifestyles where residents can construct strategies of action (Swidler, 1986:273) and where residents can draw upon to justify or rationalize their behavior to pursue self-interests in a particular social context or “social field” (Bourdieu, 1984). Viewed as a cultural frame, residents are provided with the rationale to use or disuse a particular cultural orientation depending on the exigency of their situations. In this conceptualization, residents are not assumed to be perfectly socialized (Kornhauser, 1978) to a particular value or moral system, contrary to the assumptions of the traditional cultural theories (Rymond-Richmond, 2007). A moral system can be disused or suspended when its use is not warranted. However, this conceptualization recognizes that an existing cultural frame is an emergent by-product of the social structures of the community (Kirk & Papachristos, 2011) similar to the assumption of the cultural attenuation model. A cultural frame may also continue to exist even if the structural conditions that initially caused it have changed thus exerting a 19 persisting effect on neighborhood violence, for example (Kirk & Papachristos, 2011; Sampson & Bean, 2005). This persistent effect assumption, on the other hand, is congruent to the claims of the cultural transmission model. A cultural frame that is gaining currency is the notion of legal cynicism (Kirk & Papachristos, 2011). Due to residents’ lived experiences with extreme poverty, racial and economic segregation, and negative encounter with the police and the criminal justice system, residents of the inner cities develop a legally cynical culture (Anderson, 1999; Sampson & Jeglum-Bartusch, 1998). Legal cynicism refers to a “cultural orientation in which the law is viewed not as binding in the existential, present lives of the residents” (Sampson & JeglumBartusch, 1998:786) and that the “agents of law enforcement are viewed as illegitimate, unresponsive, and ill equipped to ensure public safety” (Kirk & Matsuda, 2011:444). Legal cynicism is conceived as cultural as it is a shared experience (although not necessarily identical) among residents and it is solidified through social interaction and communication (Kirk & Matsuda, 2011). Residents are legally cynical, for example, if they subscribe to the orientation that “it is okay to break the law as long as no one is hurt, it is okay to break the law once in a while, laws are made to be broken,” among other beliefs (Sampson & Jeglum-Bartusch, 1998). Legal cynicism reflects a pessimistic view that “society operated through processes of deals, friendships and mutual favors” and the “criminal justice institutions were just another racket” (Haller, 1971: 216-217). Legal cynicism is developed in communities where residents feel neglected in the political processes (Rymond-Richmond, 2007). It is similar to the notion of procedural injustice where residents become dissatisfied with the legal institutions if they are excluded in the decision-making processes (Tyler, 2003). Viewed as a cultural frame, legal cynicism explains why residents invoke the law when the outcome is perceived to be beneficial 20 to their interests, but suspend the law when the outcome is perceived not favorable. It also permits the view that since there is little difference between a legal and an illegal business, then there should be generally tolerant attitude that “no one interferes with the other person’s racket so long as it did not interfere with one's own” (Haller, 1971:216). Legal cynicism also explains why individuals who believe in the substance of the law may still break the law or tolerates violence (Horowitz, 1987; Kirk & Papachristos, 2011) as a form of self-help mechanism (Black, 1983). For example, when victims of a crime are legally cynical, they may call upon the police to seek redress, but they can also employ personal violence and impose their own brand of justice when they feel that police services had not been fair or sufficient (Black, 1983; Haller, 1971; Hannerz, 1969; Kubrin & Weitzer, 2003b). In Anderson’s (1999) terms, residents “codeswitch” from decent (conventional) to street (deviant) belief systems in order to survive the harsh realities of their conditions. This is also similar to the earlier notion of “drifting” (Matza, 1964) where youths drift from conventional to delinquent behavior to navigate specific life scenarios that they face (Whyte, 1943). For example, youths in depressed neighborhoods may adapt a conventional legal behavior and they aspire to do well in school but once in the streets, they may mimic the behavior of gangbangers to negotiate an acceptable existence among their peers (Anderson, 1999). Horowitz (1987:440) also documented cases of residents who are gainfully employed who then carefully separate their behaviors and identities at the workplace from their activities with the street gangs, which they perceive to provide protection. She also observed instances where parents would not allow their children to become members of a gang but nonetheless would see violence as a mechanism to regain family honor, if and when necessary (Horowitz, 1987:443). In a study of Nuyoricans in East Harlem, New York, Bourgois (2003) found that female residents strive to maintain legal employment yet would also continue 21 amorous relationship with men who are willing to contribute in their household expenses just to get by. More recently, Kirk and Matsuda (2011) also argued that distrust in the justice system explains why poor minority residents do not report crimes to the police, especially if the object of police attention is someone embedded in the community. The legally cynical cultural scripts are similar to the techniques of neutralization (Matza & Sykes, 1964) that are used by delinquents to justify past behavior. These more nuanced understanding of community life were usually uncovered by qualitative studies that detailed the lived experiences of residents as they coped with the structural constraints of their communities (Anderson, 1999; Bourgois, 2003; Horowitz, 1987). The notion of legal cynicism further posits that residents can employ community social processes for both conventional and deviant ends in a very fluid manner and this all depends on the context that the residents are in. For example, residents may utilize social ties by helping a neighbor in their financial needs but may also utilize the same social ties by hiding a neighborhood drug dealer from the reach of the police (Pattillo, 1998). In a neighborhood characterized as highly cynical, the presence of dense family, kinship and friendship ties can be used as a form of social capital but can be also be utilized to advance illegal economy or underground trade like drug sales. Gangs and mobs exercised informal control to curb the delinquent youth activities, like vandalism and truancy, not so much because they want to advance the community interests but so as not to attract the attention of the police thus shielding their more organized and lucrative crime businesses (Pattillo, 1998). Street gangs may even share their illicit revenues to fulfill a range of community needs (Taylor, 1990; Venkatesh, 1997) thus promoting their ties with residents. When the dominant cultural frame subscribes to the belief that “it is okay to break the law once in a while” due to some perceived social injustices, 22 social processes can become a form of “criminal capital” (Colvin et al., 2002). As such, a legally cynical cultural frame conditions how community social processes are activated. This conditional effect of culture on crime, delinquency, and other negative behaviors, instead of an indirect effect (as conceived by cultural attenuation) or a direct effect (as conceived by cultural transmission), clarifies the contradictory impact of social process variables (Wells et al., 2006:542). Given these studies, there is an emerging theoretical consensus among scholars that the three aspects of the community (social structure, social processes, and culture) must be paid simultaneous attention in order to keep communities relatively free from crime, delinquency, and other negative behaviors (Kubrin & Weitzer, 2003a). This also implies that failure to attend to one aspect may negate the gains in the other aspects. Specifically, failure to change the legally cynical orientations of the residents may aggravate the crime problem even if social structures and social processes are improved. This explains why in communities that had already been gentrified and structural improvements had been introduced, crime rate is still high when residents continually manifest a legally cynical cultural orientation (Kirk & Papachristos, 2011). This explains why redevelopment of dilapidated public housing that aims to improve the structural conditions of the community but implemented in a non-democratic and draconian manner which destroyed the indigenous organization and exacerbated residents’ legal cynicism resulted not only in the physical deterioration of the community but also in the increase in violence, crime, and other negative behaviors (Rymond-Richmond, 2007). This also explains why efforts to improve residents’ informal surveillance in a community may become a mechanism to institute racial animosity if the minority residents remain legally cynical (Skogan, 1988). 23 In terms of policy, it is suggested that community-based initiatives must employ multiple interventions and tackle the problem in three different domains simultaneously. Interventions must not only provide services that address the social structures (for example, provision of employment, housing, and financial aid) and improve social processes (for example, organizing the residents to be actively involved in their communities’ upkeep, improving collective efficacy) but to also redirect the cultural orientation of the residents (Carr et al., 2007; Kubrin & Weitzer, 2003a). Community-based interventions must not only design and implement programs that promote trust and solidarity, increase resident’s buy-in to the neighborhood goals and develop feelings of attachments to the community but also make sure that these improvements are directed toward improved cultural orientation like law abidingness or lessening of legal cynicism. This dissertation research investigates the applicability of this theoretical framework by utilizing a qualitative dataset that was collected to understand the lived experiences of residents in a slum community in Metro Manila, Philippines. This slum community had encountered structural constraints like poverty, unemployment, land squatting, housing overcrowding, population heterogeneity, and residential instability. Similar to other slum communities in Metro Manila, this community was characterized by dense and interlocking networks (Jocano, 1975), a trait that is also contrary to the systemic model. Due to the structural constraints, slum residents had also developed a cynical cultural frame called “ugaling skwater” (Laquian, 2004) that provided premium to surviving the harsh conditions and had allowed the use of community social process for both legitimate and illegitimate ends (Laquian, 1964). All these circumstances are reflective of the conditions of disadvantaged neighborhood in the United States described earlier. 24 In the succeeding chapter, I provide a historical and socio-economic overview of how slums were created in the Philippine context, and how the structural conditions of the slums affected community social processes. I also describe the dense and interlocking ties exhibited in the slums and the cultural orientation that evolved in these communities. I then describe the conscious efforts of a slum community that partnered with an NGO to improve its overall conditions. 25 CHAPTER 3 STUDY SETTING The Growth of Urban Populations in the Philippines In the Philippines, the growth of urban areas was precipitated by what local scholars call the “pull factor” where rural residents migrate to the cities in search for jobs (Laquian, 2004). The concentration of manufacturing and service industries in Metro Manila, coupled with its traditional role as the political, cultural and educational center of the country, mean that most jobs are available in this city (Murakami et al., 2005). While there had been efforts to disperse economic growth to other areas, like the development of “economic zones” in the northern and southern Philippines, the national and international headquarters of most companies are still centralized in Metro Manila (Pernia & Quising, 2005). As such, instead of the process of suburbanization and de-industrialization that characterized urban centers in the United States from the 1970’s onwards (Wilson, 1987), Metro Manila was characterized by growing urbanization and industrialization in the same period (Murakami et al., 2005), a key structural difference. The pull of jobs in the urban areas increased Metro Manila’s population from 2.6 million in the early 1970’s to 12 million in the 2007 Census. The massive growth of urban population, however, was not matched by expansions in the manufacturing and service sectors, despite their concentration in Metro Manila (Tyner, 2000). Whereas most Southeast Asian countries successfully embarked in sustained efforts to industrialize beginning in the 1970’s, the Philippine economy did not develop at the same rate during this period. The failure of the Philippine economy to industrialize at the same pace as most Southeast Asian economies translated into high levels of unemployment and underemployment in the urban areas (Berner, 1997; 2000). 26 Since the late 1970’s, the national government had embarked on sending the “excess” labor as overseas contract workers (OCWs) to different countries: mostly as domestic workers in the newly affluent Southeast Asian countries; engineers and construction workers in the Middle East countries; and as medical professionals in Europe and North America (Morada, 2001). Currently, 10 percent of the 90 million Filipino people are working abroad and their remittances comprise around 10 percent of the country’s Gross National Product. Also, since the early 1990’s, with the liberalization of the Philippine economy and its integration to the global economy, information and communication-based industries opened shops in Metro Manila and other cities (Tyner, 2000). These labor-intensive high-technology industries, like “call centers,” provided temporary employment to college-educated graduates (Alava, 2010). Most of these foreign direct investments maximized the cheap labor offered by the “excess” labor pool in the urban population. However, despite the policy of actively sending Filipino workers abroad and enticing labor-intensive high-technology industries, close to 40 percent of Metro Manila population are still officially unemployed (Majuca & Yap, 2008). The high unemployment and underemployment rate was coupled by the failure of the national and local governments and private housing industries to provide low-cost affordable shelter to the Metro Manila residents (Ruland, 1989). Since the early 1970’s, there had been no coherent housing policy and urban planning that was implemented by any of the Philippine governments. While there were patch-up efforts by past Philippine administrations to provide public housing, like Ferdinand Marcos’ (1965-1986) BLISS and PROJECTS in the early 1970’s and the Corazon Aquino’s (1986-1992) Community Mortgage Program in the late 1980’s, most of these housing projects were poorly implemented and marred by favoritism and became a political largess for the re-election bid of local officials (Ruland, 1989). Most tenants eventually 27 failed to pay their mortgages precluding the sustainability of the programs. Many relocated residents also eventually returned back to the slum communities in order to be near their place of work (Ruland, 1989). The private housing industries, on the other hand, mostly catered to the housing needs of the middle and upper class residents since investing in low-cost affordable housing usually were not profitable (Ruland, 1989). The lack of public and low-cost housing translated into the occupation among urban residents of public or private lands, some of which were located in the prime commercial areas of the city. In 1963, it was estimated that only one percent or 571,650 families of the Metro Manila population was considered a slum (Laquian, 1964). However, it was estimated that in 2001, five million or close to 40% of Metro Manila’s 12 million residents live in 605 distinct slum communities (Laquian, 2004). In coming up with these estimates, the Housing and Urban Development Coordinating Council (HUDCC) of the Philippine government defined slums as areas that are deteriorated, hazardous, unsanitary, and lacking in standard conveniences. These were also defined as the squalid, crowded or unsanitary conditions under which people live, irrespective of the physical state of the area (Ballesteros, 2010). The United Nations utilized the following conditions to describe a slum area: insecure residential status, inadequate access to safe water, inadequate access to sanitation and other infrastructure, poor structural quality of housing and overcrowding (UN, 2006). In the Philippines, the slum communities are also called “squatter communities” because the residents illegally colonize public or private lands (Porio, 2004). This illegal character of housing settlement distinguishes Philippine slums from areas of concentrated disadvantage in the US cities: squatters in the Metro Manila are continually under the threat of eviction, thus inducing a higher sense of housing insecurity. Ghetto community residents, on the other hand, are usually located in public or low cost housing, which, though 28 disadvantaged compared to the rest of the US population, are still considered legal residents. On the other hand, contrary to the experiences of US cities where ghetto communities are geographically and socially isolated from the more affluent communities due to the flight of the middle class residents (Wilson, 1987; 1996), in Metro Manila, the urban slums are adjacent to the more affluent communities and commercial centers (Berner, 1997; 2000). Moreover, while in the United States ghetto communities are primarily characterized by joblessness due to the transfer of manufacturing industries to the suburbs (Wilson, 1987), in Metro Manila slums, there are still sizable numbers of professionals, like teachers and police officers, and employed residents in their desire to be near the place of work (Berner, 1997; Laquian, 2004). Though underpaid, the presence of professionals and employed residents indicate the existence of social resources that can be mobilized in the community. As such, Filipino squatter residents are not as socially and economically isolated compared to their US ghetto counterparts, another key structural difference. Structural Conditions of Metro Manila Slums The slum communities are generally characterized by makeshift, crude and unsecure shanties, overcrowding, visibly depressed and dilapidated surroundings, lack of roads and utilities, and other forms of physical disorder (Ballesteros, 2010). Residents tend not to invest for the upkeep and beautification of their homes and immediate surroundings since they are always threatened by evictions and demolitions (Struyk & Lynn, 1983). The national and local governments, on the other hand, do not invest in the infrastructural development of the slum areas as the lands residents occupy are usually contested (Porio, 2002). Additionally, residents have poor access to social services like safe water, electric and mail utilities, health and childcare, sanitation and garbage collection, education, transportation and other basic necessities 29 (Porio, 2002). For example, most slum communities have no functioning water supplies in their own abode which forces residents to use communal water pumps and compete with other residents, which are often sources of conflict among residents. The poor sanitation also translates to outbreak of highly communicable but easily preventable diseases like tuberculosis, dengue and malaria (Ballesteros, 2010; Tupasi et al., 2000). The poor living conditions and lack of food nutrients also translate into malnutrition, stunted growth and delayed psychosocial developments among infants and children (Ballesteros, 2010; Fry et al., 2002). Slum communities in hazardous locations like those sprouting near the riverbanks, or under the bridges, are also vulnerable to climate-induced risks like typhoons and floods (Ballesteros, 2010). Due to housing overcrowding, roads and alleys are narrow making the slums inaccessible to ambulance and fire trucks thus compounding their susceptibility to risks and disasters (Ballesteros, 2010). In general, poverty, joblessness, land squatting, housing overcrowding, ethno-linguistic heterogeneity, and high population turnover characterize slum communities in Metro Manila. Though there are some residents who are professionals, like teachers and police officers, most of the residents are unemployed and those employed are usually working in low-paid occupations, such as in the domestic services, garment industry, solid waste recycling, public transportation, street vending and security service (Riley et al., 2007). Employment is also irregular and insecure as when sidewalks are cleared from illegal vendors, or when a breadwinner gets ill without the benefits of a health insurance (Berner, 2000). Compared to other areas in the Philippines, Metro Manila’s slum communities are characterized by ethno-linguistic heterogeneity as slums become the melting pot of eight major ethno-linguistic groups (Jocano, 1975; Ooi and Phua, 2007). Slum residents tend to be transient as they move to better 30 communities once they are employed or once their family members who work abroad send remittances (Ooi & Phua, 2007). Also, the limited land available compels residents to live in very close proximity with each other: families would simply annex another portion of their shanty to accommodate newly-wed children or newly-arrived family members from the rural areas and other urban centers in the Philippines (Porio, 2002). The Metro Manila Slum Dynamics: Social Processes and Community Culture Given these challenges, slum residents develop coping mechanisms that are both conventional and deviant. In terms of social processes, studies document the existence of traditional Filipino traits like strong mutual-help mechanisms among slum residents (Jocano, 1975; Laquian, 1964; Van Naerssen et al., 1996). Slum residents tend to maximize the connection inherent in coming from the same province or sharing similar ethnic language as the initial basis for unity (Jocano, 1975; Laquian, 1964). They then develop personal relationships and come to the aid of each other in times of need (Jocano, 1975; Laquian, 1964). For example, the “utang” system or loan from family members, friends, and neighbors supplant the absence of formal credit financing (Van Naerssen et al., 1996). Residents tend to co-supervise each other’s children and they watch over each other’s properties when they are away. As such, there emerges in slum communities a mechanism of mutual support (Jocano, 1975; Laquian, 1964; Van Naerssen et al., 1996). An intricate leadership structure also emerges that enforces the informal rules developed by the residents (Laquian, 1964). These leaders are usually recognized based on their capacity to mobilize resources from external sources and the ability to settle conflicts among the residents (Jocano, 1975). Also, as in most aspects of the Philippine economy, an informal economy develops that sustains the slum structure. For example, certain families manage pump-wells, electricity, and other services and sell it to slum residents 31 (Laquian, 1964; Van Naerssen et al., 1996). The family control of business enterprises, however, is contingent upon the maintenance of trust and confidence from the slum community (Van Naerssen et al., 1996). Slumlords who charge exorbitant fees for newly arrived promdi or new migrant from the province are usually ostracized by the slum residents (Jocano, 1975). In these descriptions, the social ties and informal control among residents are used towards more conventional ends (Laquian, 1964). In terms of community culture, some studies and anecdotal reports document the existence of ugaling skwater or “negative slum-related behaviors” (Laquian, 1972:100). For example, due to the idleness imposed by unemployment, residents tend to indulge in substantial gossips or “tsismis” which becomes a source of conflict among neighbors (Laquian, 1964). In an effort to cope with poverty, some residents “work” as kobradors or collectors of bets in illegal gambling called jueteng or maintain home-based pasugalan (another form of gambling based on cards) (Berner, 2000; Habaradas & Aquino, 2010). Other slum residents are involved in “professional squatting” where they buyout other residents off their shanties and rent this out to newly arrived squatters. These “professional squatters” also illegally tap electrical, telephone and television cable wires and share these with other residents for a fee (Berner, 2000; Laquian, 1964). Some residents become part of an illegal drug distribution by working as kabayo or mules in shabu (methamphetamine hydrochloride) businesses (Laquian, 1994). Some residents make use of the unnumbered homes and narrow alleys as a protective cover when they engage in “snatching” (theft/robbery) and other street crimes. Bootlegged computer products, for example, are often produced in the slums where machines could be easily concealed from the police (Baumgartel, 2006). During electoral contests, some slum community leaders organize their fellow residents and deliver votes to politicians that promise the most patronage or vote-buying 32 (McCoy, 2009). These descriptions suggest that the social ties and informal control in slum communities can also be mobilized for illegitimate purposes. These descriptions further suggest that in Metro Manila slum communities, residents are exposed to both conventional and deviant cultural orientations. Because of the harshness of their conditions and the lack of access to conventional goals (Cloward & Ohlin, 1960), residents develop a cultural orientation that everything is acceptable in order to survive (Jocano, 1975). Given the perceived neglect by the local leaders and the government agencies, a cultural frame develops where crime and delinquency can be rationalized. Following the legal cynical culture described earlier, residents adhere to what Anderson (1999) describes as code-switching strategies where residents engage in conventional or deviant practices depending on the context that they are in. Like residents in US ghettoes, residents in Metro Manila slums may believe that the best way to earn a living is through honest means; however, they may turn a blind eye to a relative who supports the family through sales of illegal drugs. The Gawad Kalinga Community The community is located in Tandang Sora, Quezon City, Metro Manila. It is comprised 3 of 101 housing units with close to a thousand residents. Similar to other slum areas, this community suffered from the same structural constraints and manifested similar social processes and cultural dynamics. Prior to its involvement with the Gawad Kalinga, this community was characterized by makeshift shanties, where more than half of the adult residents were unemployed or worked in the informal economy, and where residents came from different provinces. Its population was transient as residents hosted newly-arrived relatives from the 3  A  housing  unit  may  be  composed  of  multiple  households.    There  are  around  10  members  in  a   housing  unit  including  children.     33 provinces who stayed temporarily to find work. The legal landowners had petitioned the government of their interest to re-acquire the land prompting the residents to organize themselves against demolition. Since 2007, residents of this community partnered with Gawad Kalinga, a Non Governmental Organization (NGO) that assists slum communities become self-reliant, productive and vibrant. Through partnership with Gawad Kalinga, the community residents endeavored to improve the community social structures, social processes, and community culture. In terms of improvements in the social structures, the residents were able to address illegal squatting by acquiring the land from the owners through payments of a relatively low interest mortgage that is spread over 25 years. The residents were able to address housing and community overcrowding by agreeing to demolish their shanties and to construct more durable and better-designed houses that maximize the use of available spaces. Residents helped each other in the construction of their houses through a mechanism called “sweat equity” and materials were provided for free by corporate sponsors. This program component promoted homeownership where 55 of the 101 targeted housing units had been constructed and awarded benefitting more than 500 residents. Physical and environmental improvements were accomplished through the construction of street canals and sewerage systems and the painting of houses that exudes life. To address unemployment, residents participated in skills development, like construction work, and selected residents became recipients of start-up capital to develop their own home-based businesses. While addressing the social structures that lead to slum formation, Gawad Kalinga also improved community social processes. Through the guidance of a caretaker team from Gawad Kalinga, residents were organized into a Kapitbahayan (neighborhood council). The 34 Kapitbahayan served as the venue where residents articulate their community goals and mediate intra-neighborhood conflicts. Through the Kapitbahayan, residents were mobilized to keep the community surroundings clean, to supervise each others’ children, to protect each others’ properties, and to follow agreed upon rules set by the community, like prohibition of street gambling and open air drinking of alcohol. The Kapitbahayan enhances the ability of the residents to come together to solve their local problems. The Kapitbahayan promotes attachment to the community, social solidarity among the residents and activates their willingness to intervene to achieve common purposes. All these mechanisms were geared towards improving social cohesion, informal control and collective efficacy in the community (Sampson, et al., 1997). In addition to the structural and social processes improvements, there were also efforts to change the “ugaling iskwater” or the community’s legally cynical orientation. Gawad Kalinga is an offshoot project of the Couples for Christ, a lay Catholic organization, and as such, their goal is to spread “God’s Word.” Gawad Kalinga encouraged residents to develop spiritual and civic orientations. For example, prior to the building of the homes, community residents were asked to participate in 14-week value formation seminars. These seminars aimed to promote traditional Filipino values, like bayanihan and damayan (community service), civic values like following and respecting the laws of the land, and moral values like developing a “matuwid na pamumuhay” or upright living. There were also educational programs for the youths that incorporated moral value formation. Gawad Kalinga also offered age-graded educational programs for kids (called Sibol, Sagip and Siga) where parents and other adults, through the help of outside volunteers, served as mentors (Habaradas & Aquino, 2010). Weekly community 35 meetings also emphasized the gains of the program, continually reminding residents to veer away from the “ugaling iskwater” that used to characterize the community. However, despite the concerted efforts, this Gawad Kalinga community had encountered some problems. Fourteen (14) housing units (around 140 residents) of the community did not participate in the Gawad Kalinga program and they were called “rekal” or “recalcitrant” by the 4 Gawad Kalinga residents. Some of these residents were former community leaders who are not willing to let go of the bigger spaces they used to occupy in the previous squatter set up. The rekals constituted a sizeable block in the community and they waged a legal court battle against the Kapitbahayan officers to assert their right to remain in the area. Additionally, due to the opposition of the rekals, the construction of the housing units had been slowed down. As such, after 5 years of undergoing the program, 46 of the 101 housing units were still to be constructed. This translated to around 450 residents still housed in shanties and they were known in the community as the “pending” residents. Despite not being awarded their housing units, these “pending” residents had to pay monthly mortgage, participate in the house-build, and adhere to other responsibilities of a Gawad Kalinga member, like payment of membership fees. While the “pendings” could be absorbed in the organizational structure of the community and they could participate in the educational and spiritual programs, their housing units still reflected a slum appearance. The experiences of the rekals and the pendings provided additional dynamics to the overall experiences of the residents in the Gawad Kalinga community. Their experiences could 4  The  14  housing  units  are  not  officially  part  of  the  Gawad  Kalinga  organization  where  there  are   101  housing  units.  However,  since  they  reside  within  the  geographical  area  of  the  Gawad   Kalinga  site  and  they  used  to  be  members  of  the  community,  in  this  dissertation  research,  I   considered  the  rekals  as  part  of  the  community.     36 be compared and contrasted to the other residents who were able to experience all the components of the Gawad Kalinga program. 37 CHAPTER 4 RESEARCH QUESTIONS The experiences of the residents with their previous slum conditions and with the Gawad Kalinga program provide an opportunity to test the viability of the western theoretical model in a non-western setting. First, the narratives of the residents describing their past experiences with the slum conditions provide an opportunity to determine how disadvantages in social structures affected the community’s social processes and community culture. Second, the narratives of the residents describing the changes brought about by Gawad Kalinga program provide an opportunity to understand how changes in the three facets of the community translate into improvements in resident behaviors. Third, the narratives of the rekals and the pendings, who experienced the Gawad Kalinga differently, provide an opportunity to explain the presence of continuing deviant behaviors. Specifically, three research questions are asked: 1. What were the experiences of residents prior to the Gawad Kalinga program? o Social structures: § Examine residents’ narratives on their experiences with poverty, joblessness, land squatting, housing overcrowding, population heterogeneity, and residential instability. o Social processes: § Examine residents’ narratives that describe the social processes (social ties, informal control, and collective efficacy) that evolved out of the community’s structural conditions. 38 o Community culture: § Examine residents’ narratives that describe the cultural orientations (legal cynicism) commonly employed by the residents to justify their behaviors. Based on prior literature, it is expected that due to structural disadvantages of poverty, joblessness, land squatting, housing overcrowding, population heterogeneity, and residential instability, residents develop specific social processes to deal with these structural conditions. It is also expected that despite the strong ties and informal control in the slum community, narratives of the residents will indicate that they employed legally cynical orientations to cope with their conditions. It is also expected that due to these cynical legal orientations, narratives of the residents will indicate that the community experienced higher levels of crime, delinquency, and other negative behaviors. If these were true, this research will document how these mechanisms were specifically manifested in the Philippine slum context. 2. What were the experiences of residents with the Gawad Kalinga program? o Social structures: § Examine residents’ narratives that describe their assessments of change in the community structural conditions like provision of employment, provision of legal housing, and decrease in community overcrowding. o Social processes: § Examine residents’ narratives that describe how changes in the community social structures affected the community social processes. 39 § Examine residents’ narratives that describe their experiences with the Gawad Kalinga program like organizing and mobilizing the residents to improve the community social processes. o Community culture: § Examine resident narratives that describe how changes in the community social structures and social processes affected the community culture. § Examine residents’ narratives that describe program components that intended to redirect slum culture (legal cynicism) toward spiritual and civic orientations. The western theoretical framework suggests that addressing the three aspects of the community simultaneously is important in keeping communities free from crime, delinquency, and other negative behaviors. Noting that the Gawad Kalinga community introduced different program components that are congruent to the claims of the western theoretical model, it is anticipated that the residents’ narratives that describe their experience with Gawad Kalinga will conform to this expectation. Specifically, it is expected that improvements in the community social structures will translate to better social processes and less legally cynical community culture. If this is true, this research aims to document the specific mechanisms of how these changes are manifested. 3. What are the problems encountered during the implementation of Gawad Kalinga? o Examine the narratives of the rekals (those who rejected the Gawad Kalinga) and pendings (those who are still staying in shanty houses but are supportive of Gawad Kalinga) and compare and contrast their narratives to the narratives of residents who enjoyed the full component of the Gawad Kalinga program. 40 o Examine patterns divergent from expected outcomes (such as continuing deviant behaviors) and how residents explain and deal with such patterns. The western theoretical framework also suggests that failure to incorporate an aspect of change in the community will stunt or negate gains in other aspects. For example, even if structural conditions had been elevated but residents are still legally cynical, deviant behaviors may still persist. Following these claims, it is expected that residents who rejected the program or whose involvement in the different program components were not sustained, will be at a higher risk to manifest deviant behaviors. If this were true, this research will also identify the specific mechanisms of how these are manifested. 41 CHAPTER 5 METHODS AND DATA This dissertation research utilizes a qualitative data collected in the summer of 2011 in conjunction with a Knowlton W. Johnson Endowment Fellowship Grant. This fellowship grant supported Criminal Justice graduate students with a cognate area in the field of EcologicalCommunity Psychology in which I (Narag) became that year’s recipient. This Fellowship grant was intended to conduct qualitative assessments of slum communities in Metro Manila in preparation for a research grant proposal to be submitted to the International Initiative for Impact Evaluation (3ie) Foundation. In particular, the qualitative data was collected to determine how a comprehensive community based initiative impacted the behavior of residents, which will then be used to inform a large-scale evaluation of the said initiative. The qualitative data generally contained narratives of residents that described their previous slum conditions and how residents coped with its challenges. It also contained narratives of residents that described their experiences with changes in their community’s social structures, social processes (like social ties, informal control, and collective efficacy) and cultural orientations (legal cynicism). Prior to data collection, a research protocol was submitted to and was subsequently approved by the MSU Institutional Review Board (IRB). Collection of data was also supervised by Dr. Sheila Royo Maxwell. Data Sources Data were obtained from multiple sources. These include participant observation, indepth interviews, focus group discussions, community surveys, and other supportive data like documentary records, photographs, flyers, and newsletters. All these different data sources were utilized to assess the three research questions. 42 Participant Observation. The qualitative data included participant observation where I immersed in the community for two months (June to August 2011), living with three host families. Prior to the two-month immersion in 2011, I visited this site twice during predissertation research in the summers of 2007 and 2009 and I was able to establish rapport and 5 gained the trust of the residents. To create opportunities to observe the community, I volunteered as mentor in the educational programs for youth and children called “Sibol,” participated in the house-build projects for the partially constructed houses and served as a “secretary” during association meetings of the Kapitbahayan. The participant observation generated fieldnotes that described the experiences of residents with the programs introduced by Gawad Kalinga. Specifically, the fieldnotes contained narratives (a) on how residents responded to the changes in their community structures, for example, how they made use of their newly constructed houses, and how they maximized the livelihood programs offered by partner NGOs; (b) on how they responded to efforts of organizing and mobilizing, for example, their behaviors in community meetings and participation in the house-build; and (c) on how they responded to efforts to change the cultural orientation of the community, for example, their reactions to a “values training” program or seminars given by a university lecturer on how to mediate their own conflicts. The fieldnotes also contained narratives that described mundane and day-to-day community activities, like residents cleaning the front yards in the morning, children playing in the streets in the afternoon, and adults engaging in recreational activities in the evening. The participant observations were aided by “patanung-tanong” or informal interviews with the 5  While  two  months  is  seemingly  a  short  period  for  the  immersion,  Narag  believes  that  his   previous  engagement  during  pre-­‐dissertation  research,  coupled  with  his  intimate   understanding  of  the  Filipino  culture,  enhanced  data  collection.       43 residents where I asked them to clarify certain statements they made, to elaborate on why certain behaviors were practiced in the community; or why certain statements made and behaviors practiced did not match. In the “patanung-tanong,” I asked residents to reflect on the community prior to Gawad Kalinga and to compare and contrast it with their current conditions. In these participant observations, I recorded the portraits of the informants (age, sex, educational and employment status, housing conditions, etc), the physical setting, particular events and activities (Creswell, 2007). To minimize the problem of selectivity, I varied the social events (daytime and nighttime activities), geographic locations (center and periphery) and ethnolinguistic affiliations of the residents that I observed. Upon invitation, I also joined residents in their all-male social drinking sessions called inuman where the more intimate discussions about community life, like conflicts and intrigues, were discussed. The narratives generated from the participant observations and informal interviews provided an opportunity to understand the lived experiences of residents prior to Gawad Kalinga (Research Question 1) and how residents experienced the different components of the Gawad Kalinga program (Research Question 2). In addition, I also conducted participant observation with community residents who did not participate in the GK program (rekals) and the GK members whose houses were still made of shanties (pendings). Passing by their areas in the morning, or simply conversing with their members during idle times in the afternoon, provided an opportunity to observe their work and recreational activities. For the rekals, I also inquired on why they did not participate in the Gawad Kalinga and asked them to describe their present relationship with the Gawad Kalinga residents. For the pendings, I inquired about their sentiments and feelings about the Gawad Kalinga program and how they dealt with their conditions. The narratives from the rekals and the pendings provided an opportunity to compare and contrast their experiences with Gawad 44 Kalinga residents who benefitted from all the components of the program. These pieces of information were utilized to answer Research Question 3. Additionally, I also observed the activities and behaviors of residents in a nearby slum area, which was referred to as “taas” or “north” by the Gawad Kalinga residents. Since this Non-Gawad Kalinga community manifested the same conditions as the community under study prior to its involvement with Gawad Kalinga (based on the testimonies of slum and Gawad Kalinga residents), the narratives generated among these slum residents provided additional insights on how structural disadvantages of slum communities affected resident behaviors, which shed light to Research Question 1. In-Depth Interviews. To complement the field observations, I also conducted 30 in-depth interviews with kapitbahayan leaders, household heads (male and female), youth leaders and GK staff and volunteers. Using a semi-structured interview (Creswell, 2007), resident narratives that described their conditions prior to the Gawad Kalinga program, of the reasons for participating, their experiences with the different program components and problems encountered during implementation were collected (See Appendix 1: In-depth interview protocol). Specifically, residents were asked about their past experiences with poverty, joblessness, land squatting, housing overcrowding, population heterogeneity, and instability and the mechanisms they developed to deal with their previous conditions (Research Question 1). They were also asked to describe how these prior community conditions translated in criminal, delinquent and other negative behaviors (Research Question 1). Additionally, the in-depth interviews generated narratives that described the residents’ experiences with the different components of the Gawad Kalinga program. For example, residents were asked to describe what it meant to be a “homeowner” and to describe the essence of living in a “village” instead of a slum area. 45 Residents were asked to describe the present relationships with other residents (social ties and informal control), their participation in community activities (collective efficacy) and their assessments of the new cultural frames introduced by the Gawad Kalinga program. The narratives also generated residents’ perspectives on how overall changes in the community impacted behaviors related to illegal activities (water and electric connections), gambling, public intoxication, drug use, teenage pregnancy, domestic abuse, and other negative behaviors. These pieces of information shed light on Research Question 2. To recruit participants for the in-depth interview, snowball (chain) sampling where participants recommend opinion leaders who could elucidate on the different facets of the phenomenon of interest was employed (Lecompte & Goetz, 1982). In these interviews, I consciously looked for confirming and disconfirming cases (Miles & Huberman, 1994) in order to determine exceptions and variations in resident experiences and behaviors. Guided by this principle, I interviewed residents who fully supported the Gawad Kalinga program (the Gawad Kalinga supporters, n=15), those who did not support the Gawad Kalinga program (rekals, n=6) and those who supported the program but still live in shanty housing (pendings, n=9). Specifically for the rekals, I inquired on their reasons for not joining the Gawad Kalinga and asked about their current relationship with the Gawad Kalinga residents. I also inquired on their prospects for the future and their explanations on their current practices (for example, illegal water and electric connections, gambling, public intoxication, and drug selling). For the pendings, I inquired on the different ways they dealt with their situations and their relationship with other Gawad Kalinga residents. The narratives from the rekals and the pendings shed light on Question Number 3. 46 I interviewed participants multiple times to determine how their feelings and beliefs were tied to the different social context and to elicit deeper responses upon re-interview (Cresswell, 2007). I also utilized information gathered from initial observations and interviews to clarify participants’ responses. The number of participants and the number of times they were interviewed were guided by theoretical saturation (Glaser & Strauss, 1967), where data collection stopped when new data no longer brought additional insights on the phenomenon of interest. Using this process, at least six participants were interviewed three or more times. All in-depth interviews were tape-recorded and collected with prior written or oral consent. Focus Group Discussions. The dataset also included 5 focused group discussions (FGD) with 7 to 10 participants in each FGD (one for Kapitbahayan leaders, one for youth leaders, one for construction workers, one for adult males and one for adult females). In these FGDs, the participants were asked to describe their community conditions prior to their partnership with Gawad Kalinga, their involvement in the Gawad Kalinga, and the impact of the Gawad Kalinga to the behaviors of the residents. The narratives from the FGDs provided an opportunity to learn similarities and differences in opinions and understand the power relations in the community that may serve as barriers to participation in community activities (Morgan, 1997). Separate FGDs were conducted for women as they usually worked in groups for the livelihood programs. This naturally occurring setup was maximized so as not to disturb their day-to-day activities (Wolcott, 1999). A separate FGD for women was also helpful to hear their specific views on community life as the presence of men usually made women silent (Angeles, 2008). For youths ages 15 to 21, FGDs were supplemented by photovoice (Foster-Fishman et al., 2005). The youths were provided a digital camera and were asked to take photos that depicted their lives before and after Gawad Kalinga. For example, they were asked to take photos of nearby slum communities that 47 described aspects of their previous community life like hangout activities after school. The photos were used to initiate the focused group discussions. The narratives and photos from the FGDs shed light on how the previous slum conditions affected the lives of the residents (Research Question 1) and their experiences with the Gawad Kalinga program (Research Question 2). Surveys. The qualitative data also included a community survey. The community survey utilized a systematic sampling technique where every third housing unit was selected. This yielded an hour-long face-to-face interview of 30 household heads (20 from the Gawad Kalinga site and 10 from an adjacent non-Gawad Kalinga site). The survey questions elicited demographic information (ethno-linguistic affiliations, length of stay, monthly income and whether the house was already constructed or not) and respondents’ perceptions on their community level of social ties, informal control, organizational participation, collective efficacy and legal cynicism. Respondents were also asked about their observations on their community’s level of drug and alcohol use, crime, delinquency, violence and other outcomes. The survey items were generally adapted from western literature but some items were dropped and changed accordingly to reflect the Philippine slum realities. The survey data were utilized to supplement the qualitative information (See Appendix 2: Survey Instrument). Other Sources of Data. The dataset also included documentary records, photographs, flyers, newsletters and other supportive data from the Sibol educational program, Kapitbahayan and the Gawad Kalinga office. For example, I was able to access Kapitbahayan records that contained minutes of previous community meetings, and a blotter book that contained information on the sources, nature and resolution of residents’ conflicts. I also accessed Kapitbahayan records that showed the active and non-active payers of the monthly mortgage, a 48 document that was shown every last Sunday of the month as a reminder for payments. Family photos of residents that depicted the previous physical conditions of the community were also accessed. All these information were utilized as supplemental information to the narratives of the residents. While in the field, data gathering and analysis were intimately linked. I recorded my observations and transcribed the interview notes regularly (Wolcott, 2008). To facilitate analysis, I transferred the textual data in computer software called NVIVO8. This software is helpful in coding and identifying emergent themes that characterize social life in the community. Using the concept of reflexivity (Emerson et al., 1995), I reflected on my field notes and used these realizations to inform me of what future data needed to be collected while on the field. This method was suggested as a way to achieve theoretical saturation (Glaser & Strauss, 1967). I also presented initial hunches and understandings to the residents and sought their feedback and corrections. This validation and self-correction was necessary in order to faithfully depict the social world of the participants from their own perspectives (emic approach) (Guba & Lincoln, 1996). Data Analysis Phenomenological Approach. The narratives from the field observations, in-depth interviews, and focus group discussions were analyzed using a phenomenological approach. In a phenomenological study, a researcher describes the meaning attributed by several individuals about a particular concept or a phenomenon based on their lived experiences (Creswell, 2007:57). In phenomenology, a researcher focuses on describing what all participants have in common as they experience a phenomenon (Van Manen, 1990). The basic purpose of phenomenology is to reduce individual experiences with a phenomenon to a description of a 49 universal essence (Creswell, 2007:58). The researcher collects information from persons who underwent the phenomenon, and develops a “composite description of meaning of the experience that is common to all the individuals” (Creswell, 2007:58). A phenomenological study also aims to describe “what” participants experienced and “how they experienced it” (Moustakas, 1994). A phenomenological approach is appropriate in this study as it highlights the lived experiences of residents who underwent particular phenomena, in this case, their prior exposure to the slum conditions and the transformation brought about by the Gawad Kalinga program (Creswell, 2007). By using a phenomenological approach, I can understand the residents’ experiences with poverty, unemployment, land squatting, housing overcrowding, population heterogeneity, and residential instability, and the beliefs and the behaviors they developed to cope with these conditions. Using a phenomenological approach, I can make sense of “what it meant to be a squatter” or “how to deal with chronic hunger” from the residents’ point of view. Using a phenomenological approach, I can detail the specific mechanisms in which a particular phenomenon, for example, housing overcrowding, affected the behaviors of the residents. I can comprehend how residents thought about a particular condition like landlessness and to understand how residents justified their behaviors, for example, land squatting and household sharing. Using a phenomenological approach, I can appreciate the cultural frames that residents employed as a strategy for action (Swidler, 1986). Additionally, by utilizing a phenomenological approach, I can identify key “epiphanies” or experiences that changed their perceptions about community life (Denzin, 2001; Mohr, 1997). In this study, epiphanies pertain to changes in the cultural frames of the residents, which altered their behaviors (Creswell, 2008; Denzin, 2001; Mohr, 1997). I can grasp how residents experienced the different components of the Gawad Kalinga, the challenges they encountered 50 while undergoing these program components, and the meaning they attached to these experiences. I can understand the meaning attached by residents on “owning a house,” on “participating on house-build for other residents,” and on becoming “a resident of a village” as opposed to “a resident of squatter community.” A phenomenological approach also provides me with insights on how residents viewed responsibilities like “paying a monthly mortgage fee” or how residents appreciated community rules like “prohibition of public drinking” which was part of the Gawad Kalinga program. Understanding their experiences with these different program components provides a better context in explaining the consequences of the Gawad Kalinga program on the criminal and delinquent behaviors of the residents. Furthermore, employing a phenomenological approach gives participants a voice in the research process (Creswell, 2007; Denzin, 2001; Mohr, 1997). I can highlight narratives that identified not-so-beneficial practices in the Gawad Kalinga program that translated in the continuance of crime, delinquency, and other negative behaviors. I can emphasize discrepant experiences of residents who identified with the overall community experience but nonetheless did not share the meanings residents attached to it. For example, I can underscore the experiences of rekals and the pendings, who had a sense of the overall Gawad Kalinga experience, but due to differing circumstances, gave different meanings to those experiences. Coding Process. In phenomenology, the researcher must first develop an overall grasp of the data before engaging in a coding process (Creswell, 2007). I was able to satisfy this requirement by my three initial encounters with the data: hearing and observing the narratives as they were collected, transcribing the narratives in the original Filipino language, and translating the narratives in English. These initial encounters with the data aided me in developing an overall grasp of the experiences of the residents. 51 To facilitate the coding process, all the narratives derived from the field notes, in-depth interviews and focus group discussions were transferred in qualitative software called NVIVO8. The first step in analyzing the data is the open coding. In the open coding, significant expressions, phrases, or words were identified as I read through all the narratives. This was done in NVIVO8 by highlighting particular expressions, phrases or words that provided an understanding of how the participants experienced the phenomenon (Creswell, 2007). In NVIVO8 terms, these narratives are called the “data sources.” These highlighted texts were compiled to a separate file under the “Free Node” of NVIVO8. A “Free Node” is the repository of all the highlighted and unclassified texts. A re-reading of all the data sources was necessary in order to highlight expressions, phrases and words that were not highlighted, or were missed, in the earlier readings of the narratives. This process of open coding is called in phenomenology as horizonalization (Moustakas, 1994), or the initial encounter with the research participants’ lived experiences. Next, as more text were highlighted, tentative themes were created by combining significant expressions, phrases, and words that conveyed similar meanings, or in phenomenological terms “clusters of meanings” (Bruce & Berg, 2001; Creswell, 2007; Emerson, Fretz, Shaw, & Thompson, 1995; Wolcott, 2008). In NVIVO8, this corresponds by creating “Tree Nodes.” A Tree Node is a repository of texts that had been classified to suggest themes of related significance. Additionally, subthemes were developed from the themes if the data indicated that there was diversity in resident experiences. For example, a theme like “effects of land squatting” were further subdivided into “financial,” security” and other subthemes generated from the data. In NVIVO8, this was made possible by creating “Sub-Nodes” or subthemes that branched out from the major themes. 52 The frequency with which expressions, phrases, and words appeared was determined as a potential indicator of their intensity (Bruce & Berg, 2001). For example, an expression that was recurrent within the narrative of one research participant suggested that that expression was important to that participant. Likewise, an expression that was recurrent in the narratives of a number of research participants suggested that that expression was important to those participants. Intensity refers to the significance attributed by the participants to a particular theme (Bruce & Berg, 2001). The themes that generated the most intensity were identified as potential candidates for key epiphanies, or events that changed the trajectory of resident beliefs or behaviors (Creswell, 2007; Denzin, 2001; Mohr, 1997). In NVIVO8, this was accomplished by looking at the frequency counts of a particular Tree Node or Sub-Node and by determining whether this entry came from a single research participant or from multiple participants. In developing themes, two other areas were verified. First, common experiences that were shared by most participants were identified. Common experiences, referred in phenomenology as textural description (Creswell, 2007), pertain to the shared understanding of the residents on a particular event regardless of their demographic and social status (Creswell, 2007). These experiences were called the majority voice because these were the dominant experiences that were recurrent in the residents’ narratives (Bruce & Berg, 2001; Creswell, 2007). In NVIVO8, this was accomplished by identifying themes that were reflected in the narratives of many, if not all, the research participants. Second, negative cases or aberrant experiences were also identified. While residents may share in the understanding of an experience, they may still not concur to these communal understanding (Kirk & Papachristos, 2011). These were called the minority voice, as these were experiences that disconfirm or challenge the experiences of the majority (Bruce & Berg, 2001; 53 Creswell, 2007). These minority voices were reflective of the differing context or settings that research participants faced while undergoing the phenomenon. Identifying themes that were discrepant is referred to in phenomenology as imaginative variation (Creswell, 2007). A description of the majority and minority voices were important in providing a holistic picture of the overall experiences of the Gawad Kalinga residents. Particular attention was given to the experiences of the rekals and pendings as they reflected the minority voice. In NVIVO8, this was accomplished through Matrix Coding. For example, a theme like “effects of housing ownership” were divided among into three groups (Gawad Kalinga recipients, rekals and pendings) and verified if there were qualitatively differences in the narratives of these three groups. Finally, how participants interpreted their experiences, particularly on how they connected one experience with another, were also examined. This process was useful to generate interrelationships between or among the participants’ experiences (Bruce & Berg, 2001; Creswell, 2007). The process of coding expressions, phrases, and words and of creating themes were repeated numerous times until no new themes emerged from the data or until the point of saturation (Bowen, 2008; Creswell, 2007) was reached. As mentioned earlier, in qualitative research, saturation is an important threshold to reach as it indicates that all potential themes from the data had already been identified and new themes could no longer be developed. Finally, the interpretations of the themes were crosschecked with the original interview text. In instances where the themes developed were not compatible with the context of the original interview text, the themes were recoded to better fit the interview text (Creswell, 2007). Supplemental Data. One of the key issues in a qualitative study is to establish the validity of the research participants’ narratives (Creswell, 2007). For example, due to the sensitive 54 nature of the information sought, say, drug use, residents may not be willing to truthfully divulge the situation (Creswell, 2007). Data gathered from other sources were utilized to supplement the qualitative data. These supplemental data included narratives from Non-Gawad Kalinga residents, documentary data from the Kapitbahayan and Gawad Kalinga offices and survey data. For example, the narratives of the non-Gawad Kalinga residents describing their perceptions of the changes in the Gawad Kalinga community were utilized to verify the claims of the Gawad Kalinga residents. The Kapitbahayan leaders’ narratives of non-payments of mortgages and nonparticipation in the house-build among the Gawad Kalinga residents were verified by checking the Kapitbahayan records. The Kapitbahayan blotter book, a repository of resident conflicts, was utilized to validate resident assessments of community level violence. The survey data was also utilized as supplemental information to the resident narratives. As previously mentioned, 30 residents (20 from the Gawad Kalinga community and 10 from the Non-Gawad Kalinga community) were systematically selected to participate in the survey. Based on the narratives of Gawad Kalinga and Non-Gawad Kalinga residents, both communities manifested the same conditions prior to the introduction of the Gawad Kalinga program, that is, before 2007 or at least five years prior to data collection in 2011. Comparing the respondents’ assessments of their community conditions in 2011 on key variables of interest provided additional insights on the changes in the Gawad Kalinga program. To analyze the survey data, I constructed a scale for the following variables: social ties, collective efficacy, legal cynicism and neighborhood crime. For social ties, seven survey questions that were answered by Likert-type responses (1= Strongly agree, 2= Agree, 3= Neither Agree nor Disagree, 4= Disagree, 5= Strongly disagree) were aggregated to develop a social ties index. The questions included: “Residents help each other in times of financial needs;” 55 “Residents watch out for each others’ children;” “Residents know the names of each other;” “Residents watch over the properties of other residents when they are away;” “I have some enemies in this community” (reverse coded); “It is difficult to establish personal connections with residents of this community” (reverse coded); “I wish to leave this community anytime soon (reverse coded).” These survey items had been utilized in most western studies (Elliot et al., 1996; Guest et al., 2006; Warner & Rountree, 1997. To develop the measure of collective efficacy, nine of ten survey items utilized in the Project for Human Development in the Chicago Neighborhoods were employed (Sampson et al., 1997). A survey item that pertains to the closure of a fire station or library was dropped and a more culturally specific question pertaining to squatter involvement on potential demolitions was asked. For the informal control component of collective efficacy, the following survey items were utilized: “If a group of neighborhood children were skipping school and hanging out on a street corner, how likely is it that your neighbors would do something about it?” “If some children were spray-painting graffiti on a local building, how likely is it that your neighbors would do something about it?” “If a child was showing disrespect to an adult, how likely is it that people in your neighborhood would scold that child?” “If there was a fight in front of your house and someone was being beaten or threatened, how likely is it that your neighbors would break it up?” and “Suppose there are efforts to relocate residents of your community, how likely is it that your neighbors would be involved to do something about it?” For each of these questions, there were five responses: (1) very likely, (2) likely (3) neither likely nor unlikely (4) unlikely, and (5) likely. For the social cohesion component of collective efficacy, the following questions were utilized: “This is a close-knit neighborhood;” “People around here are willing to help their neighbors;” “People in this neighborhood generally get along with each other;” 56 “People in this neighborhood can be trusted,” and “People in this neighborhood share the same values.” Respondents were given the following possible responses: (1) strongly agree; (2) agree; (3) neither agree nor disagree; (4) disagree; and (5) strongly disagree. Sampson and colleagues (1997) reported that the construct of informal control and social cohesion are highly correlated and that it is prudent to treat the two constructs under the more encompassing construct of collective efficacy. Following that advice, I created a scale for collective efficacy. Lower scores indicate higher levels of collective efficacy. For legal cynicism, survey items that are similar to the measures utilized by Sampson and Jeglum-Bartusch (1998) and Kirk and Papachristos (2011) were employed. However, some questions that tried to measure the “ugaling squatter” among the residents were also included. The questions include: “In our country, laws are made to be broken,” “There are laws that are not equally implemented,” “There are laws that favor the rich,” “It is okay to break the law once in a while,” “It is okay to break the law as long as no one is hurt,” “It is okay to break the law as long as you are not caught” (ugaling squatter) “Sometimes, you don’t gain anything from following the law,” (ugaling squatter) “It is okay to break the law as long as relatives benefit from it,” (ugaling squatter) “In making money, there is no right or wrong way.” The following were the responses: 1= Strongly agree; 2= Agree; 3= Neither agree nor disagree; 4= Disagree; and 5= Strongly disagree. The survey items were combined to form a scale for legal cynicism. To measure neighborhood crime levels, the respondents were asked to rate how often did the following events happen in their community in the past 6 months: “A fight with a weapon;” “A violent argument between neighbors;” “A gang fight;” “sexual assault or rape;” “A robbery or mugging;” “Being offered drugs while walking on the streets;” and “Being solicited with sex 57 from sex workers on the street.” The responses can be 1= Never; 2= Rarely; 3= Sometimes; 4= Often; and 5= Always. The responses were added to create a scale for neighborhood crime. The survey data were transferred to SPSS. In analyzing the survey data, simple univariate and bivariate analyses were employed. An alpha reliability tests were run for each of the scales to determine whether the survey items are tapping the intended constructs. The responses of the residents from the Gawad Kalinga community were compared to the responses of the residents in the non-Gawad Kalinga community. Using independent sample T-test, the mean scores of the two groups (Gawad Kalinga and non-Gawad Kalinga residents) on social ties, collective efficacy, legal cynicism and neighborhood crime were compared. The results of these analyses were utilized to provide additional insights on the findings in the qualitative analyses. Finally, in Appendix C, I provide my reflections on the field on how my positionality as researcher, volunteer, and nephew of Eduardo could have affected my data gathering and analysis. I also describe the different techniques I used to overcome the potential biases. Specifically, I describe how the Filipino traits of collective identity and colonial mentality situate the research process and the different mechanisms that were utilized to address the peculiarities of the research setting. 58 CHAPTER 6 RESIDENTS’ LIVED EXPERIENCES WITH SLUM CONDITIONS This chapter answers Research Question 1. In this chapter, I describe the lived experiences of the residents prior to their engagement with the Gawad Kalinga program. In presenting these descriptions, I identify elements of the each of the community facets believed to be important in the western theoretical framework. First, I look at narratives that describe residents’ experiences with the structural conditions (Shaw & McKay, 1942). Specifically, I highlight resident narratives that describe how they experienced poverty, joblessness, land squatting, housing overcrowding, population heterogeneity, and residential instability and how these structural factors affected the community dynamics. Second, I look at the community social processes (Sampson et al., 1997) that are salient in the slum community. In particular, I document resident narratives that describe the social processes within the slum community as a response to the structural conditions. Third, I present the narratives that describe the community culture (Anderson, 1999; Pattillo, 1998; Sampson & Wilson, 1995). In particular, I underscore the legally cynical cultural frame (ugaling skwater) that emerged out of the structural conditions and that was prevalent among the slum residents as a justification for their behaviors. This chapter also documents how the interplay of disadvantaged slum social structure, social processes, and legally cynical culture translated into crime, delinquency, and other negative behaviors. Each key theme that emerged are compared and contrasted to the expectations of the western model. It must be noted that while separately delineating the residents’ experiences across the three community aspects is useful for presentation and analytical purposes, these experiences are actually intertwined and are simultaneously described by the residents. As such, as I present 59 their experiences with the structural conditions, some discussions on social processes and community culture may come up. Similarly, when discussing the social processes, portions of the narratives would also describe the community social structures and culture. To answer the Research Question 1 (experiences with the slum conditions), I utilized different sources of data. First, I utilized narratives from the Focus Group Discussions (FGD) and in-depth and informal interviews, where I asked the residents the general question, “How was life when they were still a squatter community?” In these descriptions, I looked for recurrent themes that captured their experiences with slum conditions. Second, I utilized field observations to provide additional dimension of the life prior to Gawad Kalinga program. In the field observations, the portrait of research participants, the specific events that were happening during the time of the observations, and their personal behaviors and appearances, are described to provide additional context on the nature of the narratives. Third, I made use of field observations and informal interviews with residents of the nearby non-Gawad Kalinga community to corroborate the narratives of the research participants on their accounts of the slum life. Overall Essence of Living in a Slum Community 6 A statement made by Mang Tonio , a father of five, captures the overall essence of living in a slum community. Mang Tonio made this statement when his wife, whom I met in the Sibol (kids) educational program, told him that I was interested in understanding their lives prior to the Gawad Kalinga program. In his words: “Our life before (Gawad Kalinga program) was a struggle. There was not enough space in my barung-barong (shanty) so just finding a place to nap and rest was difficult. And 6  “Mang”  is  a  Filipino  expression  of  respect  for  older  males  while  “Aling”  is  for  older  females.     All  names  are  fictitious  to  conceal  the  identity  of  the  research  participants.   60 the noise, it was just unbearable! (Scratching his head). People (outside) were shouting, drinking alcohol to their hearts’ content. You can’t sleep at night. Unless, of course, you get used to the condition. And your mind, it was crowded as the crowded place. So there you were, having little sleep at night, and your mind was crowded a bit, and then you had to go find work the following day. You made a hassle, hoping to make income from 7 whatever, barking for jeepney drivers, if they allowed you. And then you made very little (money)... You went home to your family and they were all starving. Kids were crying because of hunger. It was a difficult life. It made you want to rob the next person with a cellphone! But of course, you won’t” (Mang Tonio, 45 years old). Mang Tonio and his family are one of the 55 recipients of a housing unit in the Gawad Kalinga community. They were awarded the house two years prior to the interview or in 2009. I saw the visible strains in his face as he made this recounting. And he claimed that his statement summarizes the common experiences of the residents before the Gawad Kalinga program. This statement provides a glimpse of how structural conditions, social processes, and community culture influence resident behaviors. It foreshadows how poverty (lack of decent paying jobs and living in cramped shanty) translates into constraints pitting residents against each other (if they allow him to bark jeepneys) and justifications to break the law (to rob a person of his cellular phone). In the following sections, I provide specific details on how residents experienced the different aspects of community life. I start by describing the resident experiences with the structural conditions. 7  Jeepneys  are  popular  form  of  public  transportation  in  the  Philippines.    Barking  for  jeepney   drivers  is  a  form  of  an  odd  job  where  a  “barker”  announces  that  the  jeepney  has  still  some   unoccupied  seats.    The  barker  must  make  loud  calls  to  attract  the  attention  of  passengers  and   direct  it  to  the  jeepney  that  he  is  barking  for  and  must  compete  with  other  barkers  and  other   jeepneys  also  waiting  for  passengers.    In  return  for  the  service,  the  driver  provides  five  pesos   ($.10)  or  less  to  the  barker  when  the  jeepney  is  full.       61 A. Structural conditions: Poverty, Joblessness, Land Squatting, housing overcrowding, population heterogeneity, and residential instability Lack of Money and Resources. One of the major themes that characterized the structural condition of the slum community is the lack of money and resources. This was discussed by 25 of the 30 participants of the in-depth interviews and touched upon in all of the five Focus Group Discussions (FGDs) and informal interviews. While the research participants admitted that this condition still characterized their current community, they said that their condition was much worse prior to the Gawad Kalinga program. Most of the residents attributed the lack of resources to absence of jobs that could sustain their day-to-day expenses. A survey conducted by the Kapitbahayan prior to the implementation of the program showed that only around 25% of the households had one adult employed in regular jobs. Indeed, in a study of slum communities in Metro Manila, Berner (2000) documented the pervasiveness of unemployment and underemployment; and even for those who were employed, the income was meager and the job was irregular. This structural condition is experienced in different ways. I was able to uncover different sub-themes related to this major theme. Here is a statement from Aling Marta, a mother of 6, describing the lack of money and resources and how it constrained community life: We used not to have a school for the little children. We had to send our children many blocks away because that was where the nearest school was. Of course, we had to walk because transportation was not provided. Ah…you can just imagine how hard it was to walk especially during the rainy seasons. Really hard…The roads were not paved and muddy. Kids got wet and were prone to sickness (Aling Marta, 44 years old). This narrative demonstrates how residents experienced the lack of resources (not having a school, no transportation, and unpaved roads) and how it impacted their day-to-day lives (kids are prone to sickness). It exhibits the constraints the residents regularly faced. As will be 62 described later in this chapter, these experiences translated into feelings of neglect that became part of the community’s cultural frame. Another sub-theme that emerged is the relationship between the lack of money and resources and the conflict it generated. For example, in a nearby slum area, a place where most Gawad Kalinga residents characterized as a condition similar to theirs prior to the program, residents did not have access to clean water. They had to utilize a pump-well where residents lined up for long hours before they can get water. Here is a narrative from Aling Vici, a mother of 5 children and a Gawad Kalinga resident that describes their life conditions prior to the Gawad Kalinga program: It was hard to get water because there were so many of us using it (pump-well). It may take 30 minutes to an hour before it was our turn (using the pump-well). Sometimes, it was so hot lining up (during daytime). People get furious when a person jumped ahead of the line. I remember waking up 4 in the morning so I can have the pump-well all by myself when I do the laundry just to avoid quarreling with my neighbors (Aling Vici, 41 years old). As can be discerned from this statement and as a prelude to the succeeding sections, the lack of resources (access to water) was a simple but recurrent source of conflict. The lack of resources forced the residents to compete against each other, which, according to the research participants, were sometimes violent. This lack of money and resources was also manifested by the insufficiency of food or by the incidence of hunger in the household. According to research participants, this deficiency eventually affected other spheres of life, like children’s education. This is another sub-theme that is especially salient among the female research participants. Here is a field observation and informal interview with Aling Linda, a mother of eight, in a nearby slum community that captures this sub-theme: 63 I observed two schoolgirls, age 9 and 10. They were having lunch before going to school. What they had was a little slice of fish and rice. Their mother saw me looking at them, and she said, apologetically, “I am really ashamed of myself. I pity my kids to have endured our poverty.” Almost in tears, she continued, “my children complain that they were hungry when in school. Their stomachs ached. And they cannot concentrate studying” (Conversations with Aling Linda, 44 years old). Aling Linda was a domestic worker (laundress) and made around P150 (around $3.50) a day. Her husband worked in Subic (a different city) and sent money once a month. Despite the couple’s hard work, they had difficulty feeding their children (demonstrated by the limited meal), which affected their children’s concentrations in school. Aling Linda also informed me that her 18 year old daughter, who was in second year of college, had to drop out from school so she can help in the family finances. Aling Linda said that they prioritized the education of an older son so that when the older son is done with his studies, he could help his younger siblings. The practice of discontinuing their kids’ schooling and asking them to work to supplement family income was a common practice among the slum residents. Fifteen (15) of the 30 in-depth interview participants in the Gawad Kalinga community reported that they also employed the same practice. Coupled with other structural constraints that will be described later, the lack of money and resources translated into high incidence of children dropping out from school and the prevalence of youth tambays (hang out). Another sub-theme emerged concerning the relationship between the lack of money and resources and the ways of coping with this structural condition. Here is a field observation that I completed in a nearby slum community that captures this sub-theme. According to the informant, this was a practice that was prevalent prior to the Gawad Kalinga program: I was notified that there was death in a family and so I went to observe the wake. I noticed that there were a lot of people even when it was already past midnight. People were playing cards and the atmosphere was festive. The cadaver was right inside the house. The coffin was made of lawanit (a cheap walling material). I learned that the cadaver stayed there already for more than week and they plan to extend the wake for 64 another week. I asked why the wake had taken that long. I was informed by one of the relatives that “the wake needs to be longer in order to have more money from the ‘tong’ 8 so they can bury the dead.” The tong is the money derived from hosting gambling. (Conversations with Mang Ben, 36 years old). In this narrative, it is apparent that due to lack of resources (money to bury the dead), the residents were forced to partner with illegal gamblers to generate income. The narrative shows how residents dealt with the reality of poverty in a slum community. It provides an initial glimpse of the cultural scripts they developed to deal with the challenges of slum conditions. The different narratives presented above demonstrate how residents experienced the lack of money and resources and how it affected the community dynamics. This structural condition translated in feelings of neglect among the residents, induced residents to compete against each other, posed constraints to sustain children’s schooling, and provided the cultural scripts to justify involvement in illegal activities. These narratives are consistent with the claim of the western theoretical model. Shaw and McKay (1942), for example, suggested that in highpoverty areas, the lack of money and resources limited the capability of the residents to exercise conventional lifestyles and exposed them to deviant cultural frames. Non-Ownership of the Land. Another major theme that characterized the structural 9 condition of the slum community is the non-ownership of land or illegal squatting. This is a 8  Organized  gambling  is  not  allowed  by  the  Philippine  government.    Accordingly,  some  form  of   gambling  may  be  allowed  during  a  wake  as  part  of  Filipino  customs.    However,  some   enterprising  businessmen  may  utilize  the  dead  body,  with  the  permission  of  family  members,  to   justify  long  wakes,  which  provide  more  profits  for  them.    The  family  of  the  dead  is  given  a   portion  of  the  profits.     9  As  previously  described,  a  key  structural  difference  on  the  neighborhood  conditions  among   ghetto  residents  in  the  United  States  and  the  slum  residents  in  the  Philippines  is  the  fact  that  in   65 major theme that affected every slum resident, including the few who were gainfully employed. Indeed, in Metro Manila slums, there are residents who were employed as government employees, teachers and police officers (Berner, 2000). However, due to the same status of being illegal squatters of private lands, these residents shared the experiences of their neighbors. There are different sub-themes that manifested how residents experienced the non-ownership of the land. One sub-theme concerns the relationship between non-ownership of land and housing and community investments. This sub-theme was touched upon in four of the five FGDs and in 20 of 30 in-depth interviews. Here is a narrative from Aling Petra, whose husband worked as a clerk in the City Hall, which captures this sub-theme. All seven participants in the FGD concurred upon her narrative: Before, if you wanted your house improved, other people will discourage you because there was always the threat of demolition. They will say, “why are you investing on the house, when you know, it will be demolished soon? Gagastos-gastos ka, tapos mawawala rin naman (Your expenses will be for naught).” That was why, most houses were tagpi-tagpi (patched-up), even if we wanted a more permanent and decent one (Aling Petra, 47 years old). Here is another statement by Mang Erwino, a government employee, in the FGD for male household heads and concurred upon by 5 of his 7 companions: We did not own the land. Some of our companions who came here constructed their shanties out of sacks. Ours was made of wood. We were not allowed to use concrete… I was employed then (in a government office) and my wife also had a gainful job as a seamstress so we were able to buy some appliances. But we were not allowed to have a bigger house. We can have only up to 14 square meters. They don’t like us to have a concrete house because we don’t own the land. And if we make it concrete that will attract the attention of the landowners, who may initiate eviction proceedings (Mang Erwino, 57 years old). the  United  States,  residents  are  legal  tenants  while  in  the  Philippines,  residents  illegally  occupy   the  land  they  are  using.   66 According to the female and male FGD participants, even if the residents had the money to improve their housing conditions, other residents discouraged them as this may attract the attention of the landowner and that said landowner might be alarmed that residents were building more permanent structures. As such, residents became content with patch-up housing that made their houses worn-out and depressed. It also induced a feeling of powerlessness as “they cannot do anything about it” (wala kaming magagawa). Another sub-theme that emerged from the narratives is how the non-ownership of the land also made the residents hesitant to apply for legal connections for electricity and water. For most of the residents, having a legal connection was a precarious investment. Here is a statement from Aling Rosing, a housewife, in an in-depth interview: You wanted to apply for legal connection of electricity and water, but they (other residents) would say, “you will be demolisheeeeeeed,” so you just keep the illegal connections. Additionally, you had to pay three thousand pesos (around $70) for electric and seven thousand pesos (around $150) for water companies to have a legal connection. Which was, of course, beyond the means of most residents! And then, what! When our community is demolished, those connections are gone! Sayang ang pinagkagastusan (The investment was for naught) (Aling Rosing, 45 years old). In order to get by, most residents utilized the “octopus” connection (electrical wiretapping) and pay a minimal fee to “professional squatters.” Aside from the risk of fires and electrocutions it posed to the residents, these illegal connections were eye-sores that further depressed the physical appearance of the slum community. Yet, the residents reported that they “were not able to do anything about it and it is just the way it is” (wala kaming magagawa at ganun lang talaga). According to the residents, the non-ownership of the land translated in physical deterioration of the whole area. Residents did not care about the physical upkeep of the neighborhood similar to the findings in other slum communities (Stuyk & Lynn, 1983). This 67 forced neglect made the community “squatter looking.” Looking back at her previous experiences, Aling Rosing narrates: Our communities became squatter looking because we did not have an incentive to maintain the upkeep of our houses, to have proper water and electric connections, to pave the road, to make it clean and sanitary, because anyway, we can be evicted anytime… even if we improved our conditions, it will be for naught, wala kaming magagawa noon (we cannot do anything before) (Aling Rosing, 45 years old). According to the residents, the physical appearance of their community was depressing. They simply allowed the trash and garbage to pile up. Even the feces of children and stray dogs and cats were tolerated. Eventually, these resulted to putrid smell and visible signs of decay and disorder. As will be discussed later in this chapter, the appearance of social and physical disorder (Skogan, 1986) attracted street robbers (snatchers), drug dealers, and prostitutes to ply their trade in the area. The narratives above demonstrate the impact of structural constraints on the community dynamics. In terms of social processes, the non-ownership of the land constrained residents from investing in housing and community upkeep and reduced their capacity for collective action. In terms of community culture, the non-ownership of the land removed incentives to follow the law (illegal water and electric connections) and justified the residents to be engaged in patch-up housing. The physical deterioration of the community also solidified the residents’ sense of powerlessness (wala kaming magagawa). All these narratives are congruent to the expectations of the western theoretical model. Sampson and colleagues (1997), for example, suggested that homeownership (or the lack thereof) is related to the amount of investments residents are willing to pour in to their neighborhood. Non-homeowners are less likely to be invested in keeping their physical and social surroundings clean. 68 Constant Threat of Physical demolitions. Another major theme that characterized the structural conditions of slum residents is the constant threat of physical demolitions. Residents reported heightened levels of insecurity and anxiety due to the precariousness of their situation. This is a structural condition that is unique among slum communities in the Philippines. The threat of physical demolitions differentiates the experiences of slum residents from the ghetto residents in the United States who reside in legal housing. Aling Belen, a grandmother of 5, and now a homeowner, recalls her previous conditions in this manner: In the midst of the stories that we will be demolished, we were really scared. I was worried for my family, especially the kids. Where will we go? Where will we live? They (landowners) can have the whole area burned. (Raymund: How will that happen?) Simple procedure: suppose a husband and wife come here and pretend to be renters of a room… They will bring with them their cooking stove…They pretend to cook… then they leave the stove unattended. In a few hours, that (unattended stove) will start a fire. And what if they do it during night time? When everyone was asleep? Then everybody will be caught unaware. The fire can spread fast and it can kill our residents, children, and older people, especially. Burning a community had happened twice in our area… that was why we were always afraid…. We can’t really sleep at night (Aling Belen, 57 years old). This narrative is echoed by Mang Efren, a 54 year old with three grownup children and four grand kids, and who survived the two community burnings: Most importantly, there was the lingering fear that this place will be taken away from us; because the land was not ours. You cannot sleep, no peace of mind, especially when there were news that we will be demolished. You had fears. Where will we go? (Mang Efren, 54 years old). For most of the participants in the in-depth interview (23 of 30), the precariousness of their situation translated in fears and absence of peace of mind. It also made them suspicious of outsiders, and even to some of their neighbors, who might one day turn “traitor” to their cause. They were also on the look-out for new faces that may bring havoc to the community. These narratives demonstrate how the structural condition (constant threat of physical demolition) 69 affected the dynamics of the community. In terms of social processes, the constant threat decreased the residents’ capacity to communicate with each other. It created barriers to achieve common goals. However, as will be described later, it also brought residents together to form an indigenous organization as an attempt to defend their community. In terms of community culture, it introduced a cultural frame that residents should always be suspicious. It introduced the cultural script that residents should not trust anyone but themselves. These narratives are again congruent to the claims of the western theoretical model. Though the structural manifestation is quite different (threat of demolition is uncommon in the ghetto communities), the manner in which social processes and community culture are affected follow the same patterns. Community and Household Overcrowding. Another major theme that characterized the slum life was the residents’ experiences with community and household overcrowding. This structural characteristic is also different from the ghetto communities in the United States. 10 From the community survey conducted by the Kapitbahayan prior to the implementation of the program, a housing unit of 15 square meters had an average of seven residents, including children. Here is a narrative from Mang Emer, one of the early settlers in the community, on how the place was populated: Nagsiksikan kami rito (We were all cramped here). We started only a handful, then suddenly, within a year or two, there were so many of us. And when residents had grown up kids, they simply made an annex. Residents constructed second floors… It is funny sometimes how houses were constructed. The first floor was owned by this family, the second floor was owned by this extended family… And if they sold it, it will be owned 10  Ghetto  communities  in  the  United  States  are  overcrowded  in  comparison  with  middle  class   housing  (Wilson,  1987)  but  they  do  not  exhibit  the  level  of  physical  overcrowding  found  in  the   slums  of  the  Metro  Manila  and  other  developing  countries  (UN,  2006).       70 by another family… Sometimes, the owners don’t agree with each other (Mang Emer, 61 years old). In order to get a more concrete idea on what was meant by “annex,” I requested the residents if they could show me a photo that characterized their previous housing conditions. One of the residents came up with a photo, which was utilized in the FGD. In this photo description (see Figure 3), Mang Berto constructed another room in his house in order to accommodate the growing family of his oldest son, who at that time, had four children. They simply reconfigured a portion of the ceiling and constructed a second floor. This practice of annexing was common prior to the Gawad Kalinga program and was still prevalent in the nearby slum community. So prevalent was the practice of constructing extended rooms that there evolved a terminology differentiating the residents where they could either be owners (who were the original occupier of the place), sharers (who were usually extended family members of the owners and stay for free), and renters (who were friends or strangers paying for the extra room). Figure 3. Community Overcrowding 71 Through annexation, a housing unit that measured 30 square meters accommodated as many as 3 households with around 8 to 12 residents, including children. Many participants in the in-depth interview (18 of 30) generally concurred with the following description of how households were arranged prior to the Gawad Kalinga program: My wife and I slept in the first floor. We had a makeshift room during the night. We had curtains just to have a little privacy. We removed the curtains during daytime and it became a sala (a living room). My daughter, who was then single, slept in the second floor. She also had a makeshift room. Also in the second floor were our oldest son and his family. He had three kids then. Their rooms were also separated by a curtain (Mang Efren, 54 years old). The residents’ experiences with household and community overcrowding were felt in different ways. One sub-theme that emerged is how overcrowding affected children’s education, an experience most mothers in the FGD noted. Here is a common narrative that captures this sub-theme: I used to pity my son. He really liked to study. He came home at night wanting to read and do his assignments. But he had no place to study. When his siblings and cousins come, our house was full. And it was noisy. He came to me complaining about the noise. He was crying. I just told him to make his assignments in school before going home. That’s the best advice I gave to him then (Aling Citas, 44). This narrative displays how the combination of structural constraints affected the social dynamics in the community. For example, with the lack of space to study at home, coupled with the lack of transportation going to school, and the fact that some children went to school with half-empty stomachs, most children and teenage youths in the slum community fared poorly in schools (Ballesteros, 2010). Accordingly, many kids lost interest in school and became part of the tambay (hangout) teenagers in the community. As will be described later, the prevalence of school-aged tambays posed challenges on the adults’ capacities to informally supervise the youth. 72 The household and community overcrowding also affected other dimensions of community life. Yet, in each of the FGDs, research participants highlighted different aspects of their experiences. While they shared the general essence of overcrowding (Creswell, 2007), the participants’ emphases vary due to their differing life statuses. This can be discerned from how the adult females, adult males, and youth participants differentially experienced the phenomenon, creating sub-themes for each group. For the female residents, their emphasis was on how the cramped surroundings affected their physical mobility, which in turn, affected their patterns of socialization. Here is a FGD narrative from Aling Julia, a housewife with four children, which was concurred upon by all the female participants: It used to be that our houses were crowded and poorly designed. If you were not familiar, you would not know when one house ends and when another house begins. The houses were connected. At times, when we visited friends, even if their house were near, we had to pass by the kitchen of another house. Sometimes, we had to navigate the small alleys. It was such a task. So, if it was not important, we don’t go out. We preferred to stay home (Aling Julia, 29 years old). From this narrative, the overcrowded condition and poor physical design of the community hindered the social processes in the community. The lack of space hindered them from participating in informal gatherings and in community meetings. For the female participants, emphasis was accorded to how overcrowding affected their socialization and how it limited their social networks. Adult male participants, however, highlighted the conflict induced by the overcrowded housing arrangements. From the male residents’ perspective, overcrowding can be a source of away (fights). Here is a narrative from Mang Mundo, a father of two, and one of the more recent members of the community: 73 When people got drunk, they would accidentally touch the walls of the houses. Blag! Blag! That created a lot of noise. And if the owners of the house were sleeping, for them, that will be very annoying. The residents would start shouting. Murahan (cursing). Hoy kundi mo kayang dumaan ng diretso, huwag kang maglasing! (If you can’t walk straight, don’t drink!) (Mang Mundo, 34 years old). Indeed, most of the fights previously recorded in the blotter book of the Homeowners Association (HOA) were of this nature. As explained by Mang Leno, a community leader, when male residents got drunk, they would lose their balance and would destroy the makeshift windows and walls of their neighbors’ shanties. Residents would then quarrel on who should make the repairs. According to the residents, most of these conflicts were settled amicably. However, for those with deep-seated animosities against each other, these incidents turned into violent confrontations. On the other hand, youths who participated in the FGD highlighted a different impact of the housing and community overcrowding. For them, the impact of housing and community overcrowding was best manifested by the challenge it provided to law enforcers. According to the youth participants, due to inaccessible and sometimes unrecognizable streets and alleys, nonresidents cannot figure their way in and out of the community. Here is a narrative from Joseph, a 16 year old and active member of the Siga youth group but admitted to be one of the delinquents prior to the Gawad Kalinga program: When snatchers (street robbers) ran to our area, there was no way the police and even the Tanod (village police) would know where those snatchers went… the snatchers would hide from the iskinitas (alleys). Police were not familiar with the area, they get lost in the maze. They don’t know which house was connected to another house. They thought they entered a street, they did not know that was the kitchen of another house! Ha, ha! (Joseph, 16 years old). These different emphases on experiencing the same general phenomenon (housing and community overcrowding) had been documented by western urban ethnographers (Anderson, 74 1999; Small, 2000). In phenomenological terms, these are different voices that evolved out residents’ peculiar conditions. However, some of these voices may coalesce to become a dominant theme. For example, the difficulty of monitoring the youth activities, as identified by the youth participants, were also aired by participants in the female FGDs. Here are representative statements from Aling Marta and Aling Charing that support the claims of the youth FGD participants: Before, there were areas of the community that you cannot access. You needed to walk through tight alleys. When kids and teenagers congregated, you cannot see what they were doing, especially during the night (Aling Marta, 44 years old). It used to be that alleys were dark. And even if it was lighted, there were structures that blocked your views… so you cannot really see what was happening around. And so the tambays, they just stayed in a corner, hiding in the dark, or taking cover in the structures. And sometimes, they just stayed there… doing nothing… sometimes drinking… If they engaged in snatching, the police cannot catch them (Aling Charing, 38 years old). Combining the narratives of the youth FGD participants and the female FGD participants suggests the intensity of the phenomenon. In this case, based on their lived experiences, overcrowding is intensely related to the difficulty of monitoring youth activities. As will be discussed later, this difficulty is related to different negative outcomes like drug and alcohol use, street crime (snatching), and teenage pregnancy. A unique sub-theme also emerged by combining the narratives of residents involved in business generation. One participant in the female FGD, one participant in the male FGD, and three participants in the in-depth interview mentioned this theme. This theme is related to the hardships imposed by housing and community overcrowding on their ability to generate businesses. This hardship made the community unable to generate resources and kept the residents indigent. Here are statements among those who were engaged in business generation: How can you have a sari-sari (variety) store when the streets were too narrow for cars to come in… If you buy merchandize, how can you transport it inside the community? That 75 was why only those in the bungad (near the opening) can have a store before… Roads were inaccessible (Mang Leno, 47 years old). Before, it was tough to have a business. How can you have business when you had no electricity that was reliable? For example, I once engaged in a buy and sell of tocino and longanisa (meat products) and then Meralco (electric company) came. They cut my electricity (because of illegal connections). I had to give away all my tocino and longanisa or else it will rot. Ha ha ha!…I lost even my start-up capital (Aling Marta, 44 years old). In summary, these narratives illustrate the impact of community and household overcrowding, a structural condition, on the social processes of the community. Community and household overcrowding elevated the risk of children dropping out of school, posed a hindrance in residents’ socialization, increased the potential for conflicts among residents, and decreased the adult and police capacities to supervise the youth. It also hindered the creation of businesses that kept the community indigent. While acute housing and community overcrowding is not a key feature of disadvantaged communities in the United States, the narratives parallel some of the claims of the western theoretical model. Stark (1987) for example suggested that housing crowding forced household members, especially children, to stay outside of the homes, decreasing adult supervision on their activities. Population Heterogeneity and Residential Instability. On top of the harshness of conditions imposed by poverty, joblessness, land squatting, and housing overcrowding, residents also acknowledged the realities of living with different kinds of people. Most of the slum residents came from different provinces with different ethnic languages. According to the residents, they were drawn to the slum community as it was the cheapest available area near their place of work. While all the residents eventually were able to speak Tagalog, the language in Metro Manila, most residents tried to maintain their ethno-linguistic identity by speaking their 76 native languages or dialects at home. Here is a narrative by Mang Efren recalling how the slum community was populated: We were told that some rights (housing) were for sale. At that time, the selling price was 2,500 pesos (around $60). That was in 1991. It was relatively cheap compared to the rent we were paying at that time. A kumpare (Godfather of son’s baptism) informed me about this place. We were both Bikolanos. So, the first few people here were Bikolanos. We invited only the Bikolanos. But then, the Bisayas also came. Then, eventually, other groups. Now, we came from different places. Some from the Visayas, they spoke Ilongo and Bisaya. Some from Bicol, some Ilokano. We all mingled here. The Ilokanos of course helped each other. The Ilongos too (Mang Efren, 54 years old). For most of the residents, coming from different places meant that they were strangers with each other. They knew the residents by face but seldom talked to them. Residents admitted that they were ilang (not at ease) with each other. Here is a narrative by Mang Edgar reiterating the impact of population heterogeneity on suspiciousness among residents: It is quite difficult to come to a place where you know very few people. You had to go along with them. It paid if someone who knew you introduced you to the community. And because of the demolition threats, residents were suspicious of you (Mang Edgar, 41 years old). Additionally, while the owners of the shanties stayed in the community for a longer term, the practice of inviting sharers and renters enhanced population heterogeneity and residential instability. As previously noted, there is a unique pattern among slum communities where residents accept newly arrived family members from the provinces or from other cities for work or for educational purposes. There is a propensity where two or more families form one household. This residential mechanism is a reflection of the need to pool resources (to save on rent, electric bills, food and other expenses) or the Filipino national trait of staying with a relative. Not staying with a relative may indicate that a resident was distancing him or herself from family members (Inalalalayo ang puso sa kamag-anak). This setup translates into high levels of residential instability as the transient family members tend to move to other places once 77 they are gainfully employed. Here is a narrative from Ricky, a member of the youth group, describing the situation: I grew up here. However, every now and then, I had new neighbors… They were relatives of our neighbors who came from the provinces. They stayed temporarily. Maybe a year or two. And then, their families go. They transferred to a different area. So every time a new neighbor came, I had to befriend them. Of course, we were shy in the beginning because they were new arrivals from the provinces (Ricky, 20 years old). Similar to the manifestations of other structural variables, ethno-linguistic heterogeneity and residential instability hindered the residents from coming together and reduced their capacity generate common goals. As will be described later, ethno-linguistic affiliation is one of the bases for the partitioning of the community. B. Social Processes: Coping Mechanisms among Residents In the previous section, I described how residents experienced the structural conditions in the slum community and how it affected the social processes and cultural frames of the residents. In this section, I focus more on the narratives that describe the different manifestations of the community social processes. Specifically, I describe the strength of social ties among residents and the practice of informal control. I revisit some of the structural conditions that are salient in the formation of these social processes. Guided by the claims of the western theoretical model that the social processes can be utilized for both conventional and unconventional ends, I also assess and document how community culture conditioned the impact of social process variables. Forming an Organization. One of the major themes mentioned by the residents on how they tackled their structural conditions was the formation of an organization. As mentioned earlier, the persistent threat of demolition made the residents band together. Here is a representative statement from Mang Efren that captures this theme: We had organization…we called it Home Owners Association (HOA). We organized it because there were reports that our area will be demolished soon… that the landowners 78 wanted their land back… so we needed to band together, all of us… When we were organized, we became friends. If there were outsiders who created trouble, we were the ones who pacified them. That was why, they (outsiders) did not mess with us (Mang Efren, 54 years old). From this narrative, residents highlighted the presence of external threat in their community as the impetus for forming an organization. The lingering fear that they will be ejected anytime required the residents to be part of the association. This sentiment is echoed by almost all the research participants. There are different sub-themes that emerged in relation to the formation of the community organization. First, the presence of the HOA facilitated the emergence of community leaders who were allowed to exercise informal control in the community. This is a narrative made by Mang Dencio, long-time resident, in an in-depth interview: We monitored the behaviors of newly arrived residents; especially, if they were renters. We never knew if they have bad intentions in our community. We checked their backgrounds. We verified if they really worked, we visited them in their worksite. Just to make sure… If they don’t, that was a telltale sign of trouble and we pressured, even harassed them until they leave. It was heartless, we know. Sometimes, they even cried and begged… But we did not want our safety compromised (Mang Dencio, 43 years old). Second, through the HOA, residents also developed friendships and neighborly ties. According to the residents, they developed networks that helped them in finding jobs. This was one of the ways they dealt with challenges of erratic employment. Here is a narrative by Mang June, also a long time resident, in an in-depth interview: If any of us knew of someone who needed some workers, we referred them to our members. This can be in the form of driving, construction, masonry, or any kind of work. Basta mapagkakakitaan! (As long as it will provide income!) Even if it is macho dancing, if you want. That was how I got some work before…And if I knew of people needing workers, I let them know, too (Mang June, 38 years old). Another sub-theme is related to the role of the HOA as a community resource. This subtheme is reported by 20 of 30 participants in the in-depth interview. The HOA was recognized 79 as a place where they can turn to when they were financially in trouble (takbuhan pag nagigipit). For the residents, the association was like a cooperative where they pulled their resources together and from which they could draw some help. It was one of the ways they dealt with the challenges of poverty. Here is a narrative from Aling Marita, who used to be the treasurer of the HOA: Before, I collected dues from the residents. Ten pesos a week. It was a small amount. But when done collectively, we came up with pretty decent amount. Those in need can come to me and ask for a loan. If their needs were valid, the officers approved it and I dispersed the money. But we were very strict in terms of collection. I did not allow excuses. Whatever they said, I collected. We evicted them, pressured them, and harassed them if they did not pay… (Aling Marita, 56 years old). Another sub-theme that emerged is the recognition among residents on the role of the HOA in conflict mediation. According to the residents, the HOA was helpful in easing the conflicts resulting from lot allocations and housing sizes and in the use of limited resources like the pump-well. The HOA also served to settle conflicts among residents resulting from ethnolinguistic differences. Here is a representative statement by Mang Leno, one of the previous community leaders, and concurred upon by participants of the FGD: Community life was truly difficult to manage before. Kaliwa’t kanan ang sumbong (There were complaints, left and right). Residents would complain that their neighbors suddenly expanded on their houses which, of course, lessened the lot of the other neighbor. Residents would complain of a foul-smelling food which was considered a delicacy by a neighbor who came from a different ethnic group. Almost every day, we mediated conflicts of this nature. We pacified them; we threatened them to be at good terms. Or else… We expelled them from our community. I remember this one couple. When they fought, they were too noisy. It was very disturbing. Even in the wee hours of the morning, they would shout against each other. We notified them and they did not listen. We made their lives miserable. We disconnected their water and electricity and made so many excuses not to reconnect it. Until, finally they left. We had to do this before so the community can have some peace (Mang Leno, 47 years old). From the statements above, the residents indicated the importance of having an indigenous organization in order to deal with the structural conditions of the slum community. 80 The locally formed organization became the basis for the emergence of leaders, the practice of informal control, the development of social networks, the creation of a cooperative, and the mediation of conflicts. This is similar to findings of western scholars where, even in areas of concentrated disadvantage, indigenous neighborhood institutional infrastructures are developed (Anderson, 1999; Pattillo, 1998). These local organizations are necessary for resident’s survival (Hope, 1995). This further confirms that findings of qualitative researchers that even in communities of concentrated disadvantage, robust primary networks can still flourish (Anderson, 1999; Venkatesh, 1997). Use of Social Processes for Negative Purposes. The presence of the local community organization, as can be subtly discerned from the statement of the residents, could be used for negative purposes. For example, the social networks could be used to connect with illegal forms of employment (macho dancing) and the informal control could be used for harassment (ejecting suspicious and non-conforming residents). Taking the subtle hint from the research participants, I investigated further the supposed negative dimensions of the community organization. I pursued these questions in the in-depth interviews. According to the residents, the formation of the HOA had many negative effects. Despite the original intent of utilizing the indigenously formed organization to serve the interest of all the residents, the precarious state of the community where there was lack of resources pushed the community leaders to use it for their own personal, familial or parochial advantages. Here is a critical view raised by Mang Efren in anl interview recalling the previous actuations of the leaders: We had an association, we had leaders. The leaders were the ones monitoring the community. The leaders were the bullies (mga maton) of the area. They were the ones making money. They were the early settlers. They were the professional squatters. You had to befriend them. You had to treat them with alcoholic drinks (painumin mo sila). 81 You had to bribe them so that they will give you bigger spaces. That was how they made money. Because, if you did not have their good graces, even if you already had your lot marked, someone will steal the wood used for marking and then you will have a smaller space. If you haven’t started constructing your house, especially if no one was looking, when you leave, someone will steal all your housing materials. And those stealing were done by residents with the tacit approval of the leaders. That was why, you needed to have the leaders’ good graces. So you will be protected (Mang Efren, 54 years old). From this rumbling of complaints, Mang Efren highlighted the use of the community organization for the personal benefit of the leaders. Accordingly, leaders used their position to extort money from the residents. Though this theme (the organization is used for personal gain) was not raised in the FGDs, it was raised repeatedly during intimate interviews. Here is a statement given by Aling Charing in an interview that supports this sentiment: Our association took advantage of us financially. We put up a cooperative but the money never returned to us. They promised us many things; they asked us to contribute money but eventually, nothing happened (Aling Charing, 38 years old). Use of Vertical Ties for Deviant Purposes. Based on resident narratives, the indigenous community leaders that emerged from the community were the ones who were well connected in the local government. They used this outside connections to maintain their dominance in the community. The use of vertical ties for both positive and negative ends was exemplified by the case of Mang Simon who used to be a “maton” (bully) and who spearheaded cockfighting and illegal water and electric connections. Mang Simon, for example, would use his connections and toughness to control a teenager whose mother cannot handle and to intimidate a drug dealer not to sell drugs in the area. Mang Simon served as the local police, and as long as the residents recognized his dominance, he served them. If the residents did not submit to his will, however, he was the source of their miseries (Pahihirapan ka talaga niya). Here is another description about Mang Simon as the dreaded kingpin in the area: 82 He used to be a security aide of a city politician. He was issued a gun. So he can brandish it. He made use of his city connections to intimidate other residents. Residents cannot complain against his tactics because they know that he will just use his connections to overcome it. And unfortunately, the city politicians recognized him. Because he also delivered votes for them during elections. Palakasan doon sa City Hall (It is all about connections in the City Hall). And Simon can make our life miserable if we did not abide by his dictates (Aling Sening, 63 years old). A repentant Mang Simon had this to say: This was how I used to make money before. I managed the cockfighting, illegal electric and water connection. I also had some rooms for rent. Then I had some alalay (minions). These were people close to me. I gave my selected minions some rights to manage a business. For example, sari-sari store. You cannot just open up a sari-sari store without my permission… I was forced to play favorites. If they wanted to have a water connection, they came to me. And they had to pay me on time. If not, I will have that disconnected. And by word of mouth, I can make their lives miserable. I said nasty things against them. So they had to be in my good graces. I was bad then… But it was the way to make a living before. See, being a leader had its perks. We, together with my minions, generated resources from the barangay and the since the resources ran through us, we decide who will get the resources (Mang Simon, 59 years old). The use of the local organization and the vertical ties to outside institutions for negative ends had been identified in western literature. For example, ghetto leaders made use of their connections among city politicians to capture resources for the benefit of their own cliques in the pretense that it will benefit the whole community (Bursik & Grasmick, 1993). Additionally, according to Pattillo (1998), some social processes, like dense neighborhood networks, can be used to thwart formal public control. For example, local drug dealers were shielded from the police by the residents whom they grew up with. These observations made in western settings were also manifested in the community under investigation. Prevalence of Factionalism and Favoritism. With the community organization utilized for the personal gain of leaders, many residents felt the need to establish their own “break away” factions leading to the fragmentation of the community. Here was a description by Mang Leno of the community dynamics before Gawad Kalinga came: 83 Our community life here before was factionalized. We were organized in our area; another faction was organized in another area. Simon, who is our leader now in Gawad Kalinga, used to be the head of our enemy faction. We did not go to their territory. We had conflicts with them. If someone from our faction went to the enemy territory, just to say, play billiards, our member will be beaten up by their members. So we don’t go to their territory and they don’t go to our territory, too. They usually throw rocks against us. We retaliate and throw rocks at them, too. At times, they come to our place and attack us. So we were ready. But the scary thing was when, you were alone and you went overtime for work and then they chanced upon you. You can get beat up. We were not gang (pangkat) members but we thought and acted like gangs. We had our faction; they had their own faction, even if we had one association (Mang Leno, 47 years old). This statement echoes some of the findings of western scholars in their analysis of ghetto communities. Suttles’ (1968) account of the social order of a Chicago neighborhood characterized by poverty and heterogeneity emphasized age, sex, ethnicity, and territory as markers for the ordered segmentation of the ghetto. Suttles (1968) found that single sex, agegraded primary groups of the same ethnicity and territory emerged in response to threats of conflict and communitywide disorder and mistrust (Sampson & Jeglum-Bartusch, 1998). In the local setting that I investigated, the segmentation was along family and ethno-linguistic lines. Here is a statement made by Mang Leno when analyzing the conditions prior to the Gawad Kalinga: Prior to the Gawad Kalinga, our community had different factions based along family and ethno-linguistic lines. The family of Simon and the Tagalogs were one faction, my family and the Kapampangans were another faction. Since the community was in state of conflict, disorder and mistrust, we needed to ally ourselves in order to survive. For example, we needed water, electric and phone services. These could be provided by a local leader, a power broker in the area, who happened to be me and Simon in the other group (Mang Leno, 47 years old). In this description, it appears that there is a patron-client relationship where the patron (Mang Simon and Mang Leno) took care of the needs of their clients by giving some form of protection, like continued use of services, and the client promised loyalty to the patron. This 84 relationship was tenuous as the patron could take advantage of the client and the client could switch allegiance to another patron. These narratives suggest that social processes like social ties and informal control had been activated by the community residents for both conventional and deviant purposes. Resident can either use their networks to support a family member in dire financial needs or they can use this same social network to shield a drug dealer from the police authorities. Implied in these narratives is a cultural frame that allowed resident to code-switch from one cultural script to another. C. Community Culture In this section, the cultural frames utilized by the residents are described. These cultural frames, or way of seeing things, are toolkits employed by residents to navigate a particular social context (Swidler, 1986). The cultural frames emanate from the structural conditions that the resident faced (Kirk & Papachristos, 2011). It also emerges from the experiences of the residents with formal authorities, like the police and the local governments (Sampson & Bean, 2005). To understand the residents’ cultural frames, I revisit the structural conditions of the slum community that affected the resident’s way of thinking. I also explore how their experiences with the indigenous community leadership (the HOA) and the city and national government reinforced these cultural frames. Upon identification of the cultural frames, I revisit narratives that demonstrate how social processes can be used for positive and negative ends. Code of Survival. One of the major themes that emerged from the resident narratives is the code for survival. For example, when asked why residents chose to be a squatter, a common statement given by resident of the nearby slum area went this way: Anak ng tipaklong (Son of a hopper), they (owners) don’t live here! They live in America. They have a good life in America. They already profited from this land before. 85 Now, we can use it. We should use it. We needed a place to stay! (Mang Ben, 36 years old). In this statement, residents alleged that landowners no longer lived in the area and the landowners had previously benefited from the land. The residents downplayed the fact that they were occupying the land illegally. Accordingly, the non-utilization of the land by the legal landowners justified their behavior and the residents should not be held accountable. It is similar to the legally cynical statement, “it is okay to break the law as long as no one is hurt.” This is a cultural frame that was shared by 10 of the 30 in-depth interview participants. Other residents, however, tempered their justifications and offered a less antagonistic rationale: they did not want to be squatters but they were forced to do it due to lack of access in public housing. It is similar to the notion of “self help” housing (Berner, 2000) where residents in urban areas were forced to create their own housing due to the failure of public institutions to provide one. Here is a statement from Aling Rosing, a long time resident, on her explanations why she used to be a squatter: We wanted to buy our own house and lot if we can afford to. But how much is one housing unit, now a days? Last time I heard, it is close to a million pesos. And that is in the outskirts of the city, probably in Laguna (a suburb of Manila) already. So you need to have a car to go to your place of work. Then the cost associated with it? Toll fees. Gasoline. And then, of course, traffic. So no, even if we can afford the house and the lot, we cannot afford the other expenses associated with it. So we stayed here. It is unused lands. We developed it so we can use it (Aling Rosing, 45 years old). A similar sentiment is captured by this narrative: We wanted to buy land and construct our own houses. Who wanted to be called squatters? But how much does it cost to buy a house? How much is one condominium unit. Yes, I am a teacher, (earning 300 dollars a month) but I cannot afford those. Why can’t they make it cheaper? Why can’t the government subsidize it? And they faulted us if we stayed in squatter areas? (Aling Marta, 44 years old). 86 These alternative voices are echoed by most participants in the FGD and by 20 of the 30 in-depth interviewees. Residents admitted that while they tried the legal housing, it was not feasible given their previous financial conditions. It is similar to the legally cynical statement, “it is okay to break the law due to some perceived social inequalities.” For them, while they hated the stigma that was associated with squatting, they had to bear it nonetheless, just to get by. Residents who aired this sentiment were usually government employees. Finally, there were few residents, despite having the financial capability to buy their own house and lot, who opted to remain in the squatter community. These were residents who hesitated to make the huge step (in the case of Manila and comparable cities) toward legal housing (Berner, 2000). Here is a statement from Aling Marita that captures this sub-theme: Yes, my daughter, she is single. She graduated as an accountant. She is earning P40,000.00 a month ($800). She still lives with us. She is 28. She used to live in an apartment near her place of work but she returned here. She prefers it here. It is free. I don’t know, maybe when she gets married, they will buy their own house. For the meantime, she stays with us (Aling Marita, 56 years old). Residents who concurred to this cultural frame suggested that they preferred to remain in the squatter community because of friends and family members. For them, living in the community provided a level of satisfaction that they cannot find elsewhere. In this case, even when the structural condition of poverty that brought about the squatting phenomenon has been eliminated, the cultural frame has become an independent force (Kirk & Papachristos, 2011) that justified illegal squatting. This code of survival that residents used to justify illegal squatting was also utilized as a cultural frame to rationalize their involvement in the illegal economy. For some of the residents, the difficulty of finding enough money to bring food to the table necessitated the engagement in different sources of income, legal or otherwise. The “need to survive” instructed residents not to 87 mind the business (diskarte) of other residents. In the process, anything can be permitted, as long as it provided sustenance to the residents (kanyang ikakabuhay). Here is a narrative made by one of the Gawad Kalinga volunteers who frequently visited the community describing the nature of employment: What existed was a code of survival. They needed to have diskarte (initiative). Residents needed to find a way to make money and bring food to the table. Since there were not much formal jobs, they engaged in the informal economy. For men with a little bit of skills and connections, the most common would be to work as construction laborers, tricycle and jeepney drivers. Those without skills, they can work as barkers and peddlers. For women, they may be employed as house-helpers, or they can do laundry. Some would be engaged in buy and sell, sari-sari stores. Residents can prepare banana que and halo-halo (popular snack items) and then sell these goodies in-front of her houses. They did not have to register their business with the city government, so anyone can start a new business right away. While they valued “straight” jobs, they were also not condemning of those engaged in selling drugs, managing gambling, like videokarera. Kanya-kanyang diskarte (To each his own initiative). “I won’t mind your business as long as you don’t mind my business” seemed to the saying (Mr. Raul, 55 years old). This is a narrative of a self-confessed drug dealer: Before Gawad Kalinga came, I wanted to work. I had been looking for work. Any kind of work. I worked as construction worker, as tricycle driver, as vendor, as mechanic. I did all of those. But I realized, even if I was the most hardworking person on earth, I was still be isang kahig isang tuka (from hand to mouth). And they asked me why I was dealing drugs? It was just for pastime anyway. Not my permanent job. It was just an additional income (Mang Sendong, 44 years old). From these narratives, the structural conditions of poverty and unemployment and the lack of access to legal housing introduced the residents to a code of survival. For the residents, it was okay for them to engage in illegal squatting because this was the best chance for them to survive. It gave the residents a cultural frame that justified engagement in illegal gambling. Recall for example how residents utilized their dead as a front to engage in illegal gambling. Given this legally cynical cultural frame, residents were able to utilize social ties and informal control for deviants ends. For example, the social networks generated by the creation of the 88 HOA facilitated the employment of residents to macho dancing. It was also the justification community leaders employed to rationalize their use of ties to the city government to capture resources for their family and factions. Sense of powerlessness. Another theme that characterized the cultural frame of the residents is the sense of powerlessness (wala kaming magagawa). Residents reported a feeling of resignation over their circumstances or feelings of misery about their conditions (kaawa-awa kami noon). Three different sub-themes were generated from the narratives on the sources of the sense of powerlessness. The first sub-theme relates to the impact of the structural constraints posed by the non-ownership of the land and the threat of demolitions. Recall that despite the willingness of the residents to improve their physical conditions, residents were forced keep a patch-up and shanty looking housing. This sub-theme was echoed by most of the research participants. Aside from the structural conditions, the experiences of the residents with the formal authorities where they felt neglected also contributed to the sense of powerlessness. The lack of access to basic services like garbage, health, and security generated a feeling of alienation from the society in general. Here are statements that capture this sub-theme: Who were interested in our lives here in the squatter area? The politicians came only during election time… The police did not patrol this area. Their cars cannot go inside these areas… Once they entered the community, it was all iskinitas (tight alleys). So everything goes. For example, there was cockfighting, there was drug selling. Who will enforce the law? Who will stop them? The residents? Common! Takot lang nila (They were just too afraid!) (Mang Edgar, 41years old). We used to live horribly before. Garbage was thrown everywhere, children and dogs’ feces were everywhere… there was no dignity living in this place before. We thought society treated us like tae (feces) and so we respond the same way. The government did not care and why should we care? (Mang Emer, 61 years old). 89 Another source of the sense of powerless emanate from the activities of the residents themselves. Residents were cowed by other residents who were engaged in illegal behaviors. This sub-theme is captured by this narrative: Before, if someone sold drugs here, we cannot do anything. Not that we cannot do anything, we can stare harshly against the drug dealer, or we can talk to them not to sell on our area, but aside from that, we cannot do anything. Sometimes they responded, but the makapal ang mukha (shameless), they went on… Sometimes, you were afraid to call the police, because they were connected with the police… Or even if they were not connected to the police, they were the relatives of so and so, who were your neighbors, whom you did not want to antagonize because they were your friends and kakampi (allies). So we just let them be and just hope, they don’t offer it to our kids (Aling Petra, 47 years old). This sense of powerlessness resulted in the lack of initiative to be involved in community’s upkeep. Delinquents from other slum communities realized these and they used the community to hide their street crimes. This negative community image, in return, further destroyed the informal control in the community. Here is a statement from one of the mothers who was very critical of the youth’s delinquent activities: There were snatchers (street robbers) from the outside of the community, but they ran here towards our community after they committed crimes. That was why people thought that the snatchers came from our place. They ran here because it was easy to hide from the police. The alleys were dark. If the police come, they get easily lost. If they asked the people, “had they seen anyone passed by here?” Everybody would just say, “we did not know” (Aling Julia, 29 years old). This sense of powerlessness among the resident contributed to the physical deterioration of the community: from garbage collection, to health and sanitation, and the worsening of the roads and canals. Residents threw their garbage wherever they liked and other residents cannot complain. This physical deterioration heightened the conflict among the residents, which when it eventually erupted, necessitated the activation of the local organization that had been factionalized according to family and ethno-linguistic lines. 90 The sense of powerlessness kept residents in the confines of their homes. It provided the residents a cultural script to rationalize their disengagement in community activities. It also gave them a justification to activate their social ties and informal control only for the benefit of relatives and their allies. Taking Matters on Their Own Hands. Another cultural script that emerged, which is quite opposite of the sense of powerlessness, is the notion that they can take matters into their own hands. This theme was echoed mostly by male research participants. This cultural script suggests that residents should take action when necessary. Residents developed their own brand of justice to deal with their situations. A source of this cultural frame is the perceived incapability of the local police and court authorities in dealing with their situations. Here is a narrative from Mang Simon, a previous leader of the community, as he rationalized his use of violence to control the teenage son of a frail mother: Okay lang! (It is okay!) They can call the police all they like… see it was the mother who called for me to intervene. I was sleeping and she asked me to help control her teenager. So I went. I warned him (the teenager) to calm down and to heed his mother. But he won’t listen. Nagwawala (He went berserk). So, I punched him… I broke some of his bones until he cannot fight anymore. Of course, I knew what I did was violent, I can be charged with physical injuries. But what the heck, (eh ano ngayon) that was better than just letting him terrify his mother. If I had to go to jail for it, it was okay. I think the mother will even provide for my bail release. That is just the way it was here before (Mang Simon, 59 years old). That statement captures the cultural script that justified the use of physical violence due to the incapability of the local police to intervene. Other narratives that convey similar theme include this statement: Our life here before was tough. It was all about survival. You needed to be strong. If they saw you as weak, they will take advantage of you. You needed to show that you had some teeth, (Ipakita mo ang pangil mo). You knew how to bite. They will not mess with 91 your daughter if they knew that the father or the brother and other relatives would fight for her. They will not pee on you if you will not allow them (Mang Efren, 54 years old). The residents also admitted that filing a case in court to resolve a conflict was a waste of time. It was better for them to take immediate and personalized action. This narrative captures this sentiment: Walang kaso-kaso. Matagal lang yun. (You will not file a case in court. The court process took a long time.) You had to deal with the problem yourself (Mang Mundo, 34 years old). Though the residents did not brandish their violence, they admitted that when it was necessary, they were not shy in using it either. Here is a statement that captures the resident sentiments: We didn’t initiate violence. Some people were afraid to go to our place before because we were squatters. Only in the beginning would you feel that our place seemed rowdy. That was because of the dirt and disorder. But in fact, it was not. See, there were Muslims selling DVDs here before. They came regularly. They were okay. No one harmed them. As long as they knew how to behave! Alam lumugar (They knew where they position themselves). They should not antagonize the residents. If they do, they will be beat up. Our true character comes out. We were not bad people, but we were not shy either (Mang June, 38 years old). Cognitive Landscapes. This cynicism towards the authority, where taking matters on their hands could be tolerated as a form of self-protection (Black, 1983), coupled with a general sense of powerlessness, translated in a set of prescriptions that ordered the way of life in the slum community prior to the Gawad Kalinga program. In the process, some areas and activities were territorially defined and cognitively delineated (Rymond-Richmond, 2007). The failure of the residents to understand such symbolic demarcation spelled trouble for them or increased their risk of victimization. Residents therefore needed to include this in their cultural frames to negotiate an unencumbered existence. Here is a narrative that captured this theme: 92 We used to have places that we don’t visit. Just merely going to their place entailed that you will be physically harmed. For example, one of my relatives who lived with me went to play billiards in the enemy territory. He was not aware of that. He was beat by the toughies in the place. So it became a saying here that magbasa kahit walang letra (read even without letters). One must read the composition of the neighborhood. Some activities maybe allowed on particular moments, but not in others… You needed to know when to do a particular activity. You needed to follow the community behaviors (Mang Pido, 44 years old). Even the maze-like arrangement of houses, which is a physical manifestation of the slum poverty, also has symbolic meanings to the residents. For the residents, knowledge of street intricacy connoted membership or estrangement in the community. For example, former youth tambay Richard has this to say: The way to differentiate a looban (a resident) from outsiders was to see whether they knew their way in and out of the community. Just by looking if they made the right or wrong turn, you would know. Little kids knew the streets by heart. You go to taas (a nearby slum community in the north) and you will see what I am saying. They still have this maze-like alleys… you are not part of the community if you don’t know the ins and outs (Richard, 20 years old). This narrative is similar to the idea of “cognitive landscape” identified by RymondRichmond, (2007) in high-crime public housing in the United States. Accordingly, cognitive landscapes are a response to abandonment and discrimination by police and other formal mechanisms of social control, and they inform and restrict residents' daily travels by warning them of safe and dangerous physical and symbolic spaces. Understanding cognitive landscape is important because it is connected to spatial behavior. Individuals use cognitive maps as a spatial navigation tool, for visiting, walking, or living. Aside from the physical territory, certain activities were also “owned” by certain individuals. Residents reported that they needed to be cognizant of these realities. Here is a narrative from one of the residents that captures this theme: 93 Before, some sources of income can be managed only by a particular person. For example, Simon managed the cockfighting… No one can just come in and introduce cockfighting here. Simon had the rights. It was not legal, of course, but it was known that cockfighting was Simon’s. Simon will definitely get upset when one of the residents challenged him. Simon will definitely use his minions and then all will break loose. Not unless of course, the challenger has as much clout. Then, maybe… Simon will simply compromise. It depended also on who was backing up the challenger. But the point was, Simon had the right and everybody respected it (Aling Leticia, 43 years old). As such, simple activities had to be inspected carefully. Residents had to be suspicious. Failure to exercise caution can put them into trouble. From one of the adult male participants in a FGD: We needed to be careful and suspicious. For example, there was once a petition paper asking for our signatures. We did not know that the petitioners had been asking for the removal of a person from a political office. Instead, they deceived us by saying that the signature was collected to know the recipients of a medical mission. And they used our signature for their purposes. Then, we realized we were already associated with a political faction. And when the enemy faction learned about our signature, they got back at us. Then we lose access to resources (Mang Andres, 35 years old). Residents therefore tried to socialize their children to be knowledgeable of the different acceptable and non-acceptable conduct in a particular social context. Here is a statement from Mang Efren describing the socialization process of their community before partnering with the Gawad Kalinga program: There were different opportunities to socialize. For example, due to lack of individual water supply, we used a common pump-well. Everybody used the pump-well. So, we must learn the rules in the use of the pump-well. For recreation, not every household had a TV set, so we watched TV with neighbors. That had some rules to be followed, as well. Also, because we did not have our own basketball court, we went to other communities to play. Again, there were rules to be followed there. So, we were forced to socialize. So, we know the community practices: You need to be tough. Huwag tatanga-tanga (Don’t be naïve). We taught our kids to learn the community rules so that they will not be taken advantaged off by other kids. But when they go home, they should practice the proper values we taught them. The statement by Mang Efren basically suggests that residents employed the community social processes (like social ties and informal control) depending on the context of their 94 situations. Based on resident narratives, they admonish their kids to be tough (matibay ang dibdib) when in the streets but be good children (mabait na bata) when at home. This further suggests that residents developed different cultural frames to deal with the realities of their community. Taken together, all these cultural scripts employed by the residents resemble what is termed in the western literature as legal cynicism (Sampson & Jeglum-Bartusch, 1998) or in the local parlance “ugaling skwater.” For the residents, it is okay the break the law (like illegally occupying a private land) as long as no one was hurt (at least, for the residents, the owners are not physically victimized). It is okay to break the law (illegal water and electric connections) as long as it benefitted their families. Their need to survive, accordingly, permitted them to employ legal and illegal means to cope with their day-to-day needs. In the process, similar to the findings of ethnographers in poor urban communities in the United States (Anderson, 1999), residents would wish to employ legal and conventional way of life but were not shy to switch to illegal and unconventional means if the situation necessitated their use. This cynical cultural frame also translated into the use of the community social processes for both positive and negative ends. Residents willingly used their family and neighborhood connections to support each other, took care of each others’ children, lent loans in times of need but also used these social resources for shielding a drug dealer or a gambling lord from the reach of the police. D. Delinquent and Deviant Behaviors In the preceding sections, I discussed the experiences of residents with the structural conditions of their previous slum community and the different mechanisms that they developed in order to cope with these conditions. Also discussed were the cultural frames that emerged from the structural conditions and how these cultural frames conditioned the use of the 95 community social processes for both conventional and negative ends. In this section, a more detailed description of the behaviors of the residents as an offshoot of the community structure, social processes, and culture is provided. Public Drinking and Intoxication. When asked “what would be the most common thing to notice in the community prior to the Gawad Kalinga program,” residents were uniform in identifying the prevalence of public drinking and intoxication. Here was a description provided by Aling Minda of the slum situation prior to the Gawad Kalinga program: Before, there were no prohibitions on public drinking. At 7am, people started drinking. And they drank until wee hours of the morning (the following day). They occupied the streets. You had to navigate yourself when you walk in the alleys. And when they were drunk, they were rude. They would harass residents passing by. They made a lot of noise. They were singing to their hearts content. They knew no one can stop them and so they go on and on and on. And then, they fight each other afterwards. It was so scary to see them all drunk and shirtless. They were a horrible bunch (Aling Minda, 29 years old)! Male research participants admitted that this was indeed the condition in their slum community prior to their engagement with the Gawad Kalinga program. The idle time brought about by joblessness, the need to find a cheap form of relaxation, and the need to affirm their commitment to their barkada (cliques), brought unemployed males, especially youths, to drinking. According to the male research participants, drinking reinforced their bond of friendships. Here is a narrative from Ricky: Why would you not drink? Everyone was out there drinking. Your wife was nagging you and so to get away from her, you joined your neighbors. You forget your problems. You become relaxed. Also, drinking was a way to get along with your neighbors: to let them know you were in, that you were part of the loop (Ricky, 20 years old). For the residents, the lack of community resources (poverty) limited their ability to come up with alternative forms of entertainment. As such, they “make do” with whatever was readily available. Public drinking and intoxication was so prevalent in the community that it fostered 96 many additional problems. First, it signified that no one was in control of the community, so it invited drug dealers, prostitutes, thieves and gamblers to flourish in the community (Skogan, 1990). Female residents lamented that their males, who were too engrossed into drinking, tolerated the presence of addicts and prostitutes in the community. Aling Minda has this additional narrative: They were like zombies before. Most people were still awake by 12 o’clock midnight. So we saw call girls and drug addicts pass by regularly. And it was so annoying my husband used to entertain them (Aling Minda, 29 years old). Second, public intoxication put the men in dire financial constraints. They would use the little money they earned for drinking sprees and they will be too wasted to go to work the following day. This resulted to strained domestic relations. Residents attributed alcoholic intoxication to the prevalence of domestic violence where wives and children were abused by the intoxicated father: There used to be a lot a quarrelling between husbands and wives here. You cannot interfere because it was their family affair. Wives would get a blackeye. Men would hit their wives, wives fighting back. There was yelling... It was very common. It was almost music to the ears. Sometimes, it was fun hearing what they yelled. It was part of our squatter life. We smelled all the bad odors of our neighbors. You drunk! Irresponsible! (Mang Leno, 47 years old). Third, public intoxication, coupled with the overcrowding, had been a recipe for conflict and violence. When residents got drunk, they would run over fences, windows and doors of their neighbors. As earlier mentioned, this was a major impetus for violent confrontations. Delinquent Youths. Another major behavior identified by the research participants was the prevalence of unsupervised youths or tambay. Accordingly, most of the teenage residents were not encouraged to go to school due to lack of resources. As previously discussed, residents reported that children sometimes went to school with half-empty stomachs which compromised 97 their performance. Prior to the Gawad Kalinga program, residents reported that there was a high dropout rate. Instead of going to school, teenagers spent endless hours hanging out in the dark corners of the community. Here is a description given by Ronnie, a former tambay: Our favorite place to stay was on the right side of the circle. That place was our hangout area. To go there, you had to navigate an alley. It was not well lighted so it was best place to hide. There were many of us hanging out there. Probably 10 people at a time. We took turns. We did nothing. Just trading jokes, making fun of each other. If we got bored, we also smoked cigarettes usually, marijuana, sometimes, shabu, if we had some spare money. It was fun hanging out, we stayed there until 4 am. We slept all day and then converged there again in the evening. Some love birds were there too (Ronnie, 19 years old). The adult female residents confirmed these descriptions of the youth activities, much to their dismay. While they argued that mothers were trying to strictly supervise their teenage kids, the physical layout of the community and the lack of cooperation among the mothers precluded them from being successful. One of the consequences of this setup was the prevalence of teenage pregnancy. According to Aling Charing: The youths were outside of the house hanging out until wee hours of the morning. They stayed out late. Then in a few days, you will hear of female teenagers being pregnant. Teenage pregnancy was common. They were usually 15 and 16 years old. Because before, teenage age boys could easily sneak in to the house of the teenage girls. The structure of the shanties permitted it. And the surroundings were not well lit. The corners were not well lit. They just stayed in the dark corner. They were left unsupervised. Some mothers were wondering if their daughters were the ones in the dark corners. But they cannot be sure. And they could not just be involved, because it may turn out, it was not their children. Huwag kang makialam sa di mo anak (Don’t get involved if it was not your daughter). So they just wait until the teenagers emerged from the dark. And confirm that indeed, that was their daughter. Then it was too late. Later, they find, the daughter was already pregnant (Aling Charing, 38years old). In this narrative, the community and housing overcrowding (social structures) and the lack of shared arrangement among the mothers (social processes) facilitated the prevalence of 98 teenage pregnancy. Similar mechanisms also facilitated the incidence of other types of delinquency and drug use. According to Ronnie: Before, we can do whatever we want. It was just so easy to snatch a cell phone, or held other people up. I just ran here in our community, and I will never be caught. No one will squeal on me anyway. Not the people here. Wala silang pakialam (They don’t pay attention). And my friend would just be so happy I had something for them (Ronnie, 19 years old). The unsupervised youths also facilitated the formation of cliques (barkada) which usually pitted them against cliques from another slum community. Though not as formal as gangs defined in the western literature (barkada is much more fleeting, no formal memberships and no initiation rites involved), the cliques were also involved into violence. They usually come to the rescue of members who had been aggrieved and they could be subjected to the retaliation of other cliques. E. Summary This chapter presented the narratives of residents with their experiences with the slum conditions of poverty, joblessness, illegal squatting, housing overcrowding, population heterogeneity, and residential instability. The narratives generally underscored patterns highlighted in the western theoretical model. Residing in a slum community meant there was scarcity of money and resources (Shaw & McKay, 1942) that forced residents to compete against each other and induced a feeling of powerlessness. Illegal housing (squatting) created a sense of insecurity and the threats of demolition prohibited residents from maintaining the physical appearance of the community, which translated into a squatter appearance characterized by filth and disorder. Housing and community overcrowding also limited residents’ socialization, reduced the capacity of adults and police authorities to supervise the activities of teens, inhibited residents to be engaged in income-generation, and increased the risk of conflicts among their 99 ranks. The transience and ethno-linguistic heterogeneity among residents also fostered anonymity and suspicion. The impact of the social structures on community social processes and community culture followed the predictions of the western theoretical model. In terms of social processes, an indigenous organization was formed to deal with the challenges of the structural conditions. The threat of demolition was a key mechanism that banded the residents for their community defense. The Homeowners Association (HOA), accordingly, was instrumental in the identification of local leaders, in the development of social networks, and in the practice of informal control among the residents. Like most slum communities in Metro Manila, the community under investigation also manifested strong interlocking ties. The presence of dense social networks among slum residents is similar to the findings among ghetto communities in the United States and further proof to the limitations of the systemic model (Anderson, 1999; Horowitz, 1983; Whyte, 1943). In terms of cultural frames, the resident narratives manifested the code of survival, sense of powerlessness, and the need to take matters in their own hands. A cynical legal culture (Kirk & Papachristos, 2011; Sampson & Jeglum-Bartusch, 1998) or ugaling skwater, similar to those identified in the western literature, emerged. These cultural frames allowed the use of the indigenous organization for the personal, familial or parochial interests of the leaders. The cultural script also suggested to residents that some unconventional and illegal behavior can be accepted as a way of life. As such, positive social processes identified by the research participants, like helping one another in time of need, went hand in hand with factionalism and patron-clientilism, where the social resources were used for negative ends. Prior to the 100 involvement to the Gawad Kalinga program, residents generally characterized their community as conflict-ridden, chaotic and violent. 101 CHAPTER 7 RESIDENTS’ LIVED EXPERIENCES WITH GAWAD KALINGA This chapter answers Research Question 2. In this chapter, I describe the experiences of the residents as they underwent the Gawad Kalinga program. Employing the western theoretical model as an analytical tool, I illustrate how residents characterized the structural changes brought about by the Gawad Kalinga program and the attendant changes in the community social processes and community culture. First, I provide a portrayal of how residents experienced the changes in the community structural conditions. Specifically, I highlight narratives that describe their experiences as the community addressed the problems of housing overcrowding, land squatting, poverty, unemployment, population heterogeneity, and residential instability. In this section, I focus on how the changes in the structural conditions improved the community social processes and community culture. Second, I look at narratives that depict their experiences on the efforts to improve the community social processes, which was done through the reinvigoration of the community organization. Guided by the western theoretical model that suggests that social process can be both utilized for conventional and negative ends, I provide narratives that describe how these community social processes were redirected towards conventional ends. Third, I look at narratives that capture the cultural frames or scripts that were introduced to the residents. In this section, I focus on the content and sources of these new cultural frames: the changes in structural conditions, the direct intervention of the Gawad Kalinga staff and volunteers, and the experiences with the reinvigorated Kapitbahayan officers. I then feature narratives that describe how these new cultural scripts were utilized to further justify the use of community social processes towards conventional ends. All the themes generated are compared and contrasted with the expectations of the western model. 102 Similar to the previous chapter, it must again be noted that narratives contain multiple themes that could easily fall under any of the three aspects of the community. This is understandable as experiences in one aspect simultaneously affect the experiences in the other aspects. As such, as I present their experiences with the changes in the structural conditions, the narratives also incorporate descriptions on the changes in the community social processes and community culture, and vice versa. To answer the Research Question 2 (Experiences with the Gawad Kalinga program), I utilized different sources of data. First, I utilized narratives from the in-depth interviews, field observations, and focus group discussion among adult Gawad Kalinga residents and youth participants. I asked the general question, "How do residents characterize their community as it underwent the Gawad Kalinga program?" Recurrent themes that highlight the impact of structural, social processes, and cultural change are presented. The portrait and demeanors of the participants and a description of the events during the observations are also described to provide the context for their narratives. Second, I utilized community documents, like community surveys, “blotter” book of the Kapitbahayan and school records of the Sibol program to support the narratives of the research participants. Third, I utilized the informal interviews and field observations with residents of a nearby slum community to corroborate the claims of the Gawad Kalinga residents. Overall Essence of the Change Through the Gawad Kalinga Program This statement by Aling Marta, a public school teacher whom we met in the previous chapter, provides a succinct description of community life with Gawad Kalinga program: The greatest benefit we enjoyed when we became a Gawad Kalinga community is that our community became peaceful (tahimik). Indeed, peaceful! You may not believe it when I say that this place was so rowdy before. Grabe, sobrang gulo! (It was very disorderly!) There were lots of shouting and quarreling. People were either drunk or 103 gambling. But now, it is peaceful. Residents have become respectful. Nagtutulungan (We help each other). We are busier too. We are involved in many activities. And our husbands, mostly, they are employed. Indeed. We are happier. Really. We smile more often. Especially, the place is cleaner. O yes. Our community is cleaner, much cleaner. And the kids and the teenagers, I no longer see them tambay (hangout). Even the adults, no more (public) drinking... Indeed, our place had been peaceful (Aling Marta, 44 years old). Aling Marta is the mother of 6 who had previously lamented about the consequences of the lack of resources in the community. In comparing their previous community setup to their situation with the Gawad Kalinga, she said, it was "a world apart." I saw the enthusiasm in her eyes as she made this description. When I asked the other female FGD participants whether they shared this characterization, all seven participants agreed. They also said that most, if not all, residents probably shared this statement. This statement by Aling Marta provides a glimpse of the overall essence of the change brought about by the Gawad Kalinga program. It shows how changes in the three aspects of the community translated to improved resident behaviors. In the following sections, I provide a more detailed description of how these changes were manifested. Following the western theoretical model, I start by presenting resident narratives that describe changes in community structures, to be followed by the descriptions on the changes in the social processes and community culture. A. Addressing the Structural Conditions As previously mentioned in the site description section, through the Gawad Kalinga, residents were able to address illegal squatting by acquiring the land from the owners. Through a series of negotiations facilitated by the Gawad Kalinga, community members were able to secure a loan from the Philippine national government, which was used to pay the landowners. The residents, in return, pay a relatively low interest amortization to the national government, 104 which is spread for over 25 years. The residents also agreed, through the direction of the Gawad Kalinga, to demolish their shanties and to re-block their lot sizes. Residents were assigned either to a 32-square meter (also called Type A) or 16-square meter lot (Type AB). 11 With the material assistance of a corporate sponsor, which was also secured through the Gawad Kalinga, the residents helped each other in constructing their houses, in what they called as their "sweat equity." Sweat equity can be done in two ways. First, one able-bodied male representative (the youngest was 16 years old) of each household must participate in the house-built at least once a week. For households in which the male representatives are gainfully employed elsewhere, they could avail of the second option, where “surrogates” worked on their behalf. Surrogates were usually youth tambays who then worked for a fee of $4 a day. As previously mentioned, when I conducted my data collection in the summer of 2011, 55 housing units had already been constructed with four additional houses also under construction. An additional 42 houses were still to be constructed. Of the 55 housing units already constructed, 20 were 32-square meter (Type A) and 35 were 16-square meter (Type AB) houses. Addressing Community and Housing Overcrowding. One of the key themes that emerged from the narratives of the residents that depict structural change is the decrease in community and housing overcrowding. The re-blocking of lot sizes, the maximization of 11  Residents  who  were  allotted  32  square  meters  were  the  original  residents  of  the  community   and  had  occupied  bigger  lot  areas  prior  to  Gawad  Kalinga.    They  were  previously  called   “owners”  in  the  previous  squatter  set  up.  Residents  who  were  allotted  the  16  square  meters   were  the  “sharers”  or  “renters.”    With  the  re-­‐blocking,  most  of    the  residents  attested  that  their   lot  areas  decreased.    However,  the  loss  in  the  lot  area  was  recovered  by  the  gain  in  space  area   as  the  new  houses  had  second  floors.    Of  the  101  housing  units,  30  housing  units  are  32  square   meters,  of  which  20  had  been  constructed.  This  type  of  housing  unit  pays  a  monthly  mortgage   of  Php  560  ($12.00).    71  housing  unit  are  16  square  meters,  of  which  35  had  already  been   constructed.  This  type  of  housing  pays  a  monthly  mortgage  of  Php  280  ($6.00).   105 community spaces where streets are widened, and the construction of uniform houses with functional interior designs, according to research participants, profoundly transformed the community. Recall from the previous chapter, that residents lamented the impact of inaccessible streets, poor lighting, and patch-up housing on their day-to-day activities. There are different sub-themes that emerged from the resident narratives that underscore the effects of this structural change. The first sub-theme relates to the improvement in the residents’ opportunities for socialization. This sub-theme is particularly salient among female research participants. Here is a representative narrative that captures this sub-theme: It used to be very difficult to go from one house to another. We needed to navigate the dark alleys and so, if it is not that important, we don’t go out of our own houses. But now, with the physical conditions improved, we go out a lot. We can go from end to end of this community and socialize, especially on those areas that had already been reblocked. As such, we gained more friends, and developed more trusting relationships with our neighbors. No more factions, too. I would say our socialization improved a lot (Aling Julia, 29 years old). Another sub-theme relates to the impact of improved community and housing conditions on the capacity of adults to supervise the activities of the youths. Mothers of teenagers were particularly enthusiastic in identifying this sub-theme. Here are statements by Aling Charing in two separate occasions of informal interviews: Also before, due to the proliferation of dark nooks and alleys, it is so hard to supervise the activities of children and teenagers. But now, with re-blocking, there are very few “blind spots.” You can walk from corner to corner and everything is visible, at least on those areas already physically transformed. No more hidden nooks. You can immediately see what children and teens are doing. And even during the night. There are streetlights now. They can no longer hide from us. And we can easily call their attention if they are up to something and report it to their parents (Aling Charing, 38 years old). Now, they can be easily seen. The corners are well lighted. Residents take turns in shouldering the expenses for electricity. For example, Monday is Mang Jaime’s turn, Tuesday, is our turn. This goes on for the whole week. It is brighter and it is easier to supervise the surroundings during the night. The activities of the teenagers become 106 visible. This also controls the youth use of marijuana and illegal drugs. Because it is brighter, their mischief is lessened. Nabawasan din ang tanan. (Teens eloping was reduced). Now teenagers get married at a later age (Aling Charing, 38 years old). The theme of improved supervision facilitated by reduction of community and housing crowding is also echoed by the youth FGD participants. According to youth participants, the improved community physical conditions had a direct effect on their choice of hangout activities. Here is a typical comment among the youth: Before the Gawad Kalinga, we used to tambay (hangout) a lot. There were so many spaces here that our parents won’t even bother to see. But now, those were all gone. If we have to hang out, we have to do it in the multipurpose hall, a place where we have to reserve before we can use and where there are people who can check on our activities. Unlike before, there were so many alleys. It is so easy to hide. Some of us snatch and run to the community, and the police cannot find us. Now, if we do that, and run to this place, it is just plain visible. You can easily be caught. So, yes, it changed a lot (Ronnie, 19 years old). A statement from a self-identified snatcher in a nearby slum community corroborates this comment: Yes, I used to run to that place (the Gawad Kalinga site) before. That was a best hiding place before. It is so easy to hide from the police there. In fact, once you entered the place, the police won’t even bother to come in. But now, it is different. You can be easily seen now, with those wider streets. And before, residents do not mind you. They will even help you hide from the police. But not anymore. They will tell the police where you hide. So I don’t run there anymore (Roger, 18 years old). Another sub-theme that emerged is the impact of the improved housing conditions on residents’ feelings of privacy and functionality. This sub-theme is particularly salient among residents with finished housing. The provision of a second floor improved the privacy and functionality of the household, which eventually improved other spheres like children’s education. Here is a comment from Aling Citas, the mother of two teenagers who used to lament the lack of space: 107 Before, we used to be like sardines and we all sleep in the floor. And the sleeping area is also where we eat and receive visitors. Now, at least, we have sala where we can entertain visitors and we have a separate place for our kitchen to cook food and have our meals. Most importantly, there is a second floor where we can partition to two private rooms. At least now, if children wanted to study, they can go to the second floor where they can have more concentration. Unlike before, when everybody is just noisy, kids cannot make their school assignments (Aling Citas, 44 years old). A similar sentiment can be seen from this narrative: I am proud to say, and hopefully it will continue, that my son had been an honor roll in school. He really liked to study. But before, he cannot study because the house was overcrowded. I mean, the space is really small but also the house was not constructed properly. We were just one floor. When all 8 of us were here, it was just plain noisy. But now, the space is still small, but at least it is arranged properly. It was not just a product of annexing. There is a living space and a kitchen but more importantly, there is a second floor. I really like it because my son can study (Aling Jacinta, 34 years old). When told about these statements, 8 of the parents who were interviewed concurred that this was indeed one of the benefits of improved housing. According to the parents, children and teenagers were encouraged to attend school, which also lessened the incidence of tambay (hangout) kids. Recall that prior to Gawad Kalinga, residents reported the hardships faced by children and youths when they attempted to study at home. The improved housing and community conditions also had a bearing to the mental health of the residents. Again, recall from the previous chapter that residents complained about their crowded conditions and the noise translating into “crowded minds.” This “crowded minds” easily translated into irritation among the residents. Accordingly, the improved housing condition lessened the irritation usually felt by the residents. In phenomenological sense, this is the essence of their experience. This is what made the Gawad Kalinga a “world a part.” Ito ang pinagkaiba ng Gawad Kalinga. Here is a statement from Mang Simon, the community leader: Ah it is nice. In the afternoon, I would get a chair and sit in front of my house and get mesmerized. Up until now, I could still not believe what I see. We actually have our houses. And the houses are properly arranged. The houses are not over-crowded as it used to be. There are places where you can walk around. I tell you, when you enter this 108 place before you cannot even see the sky. The houses were tightly connected (dikitdikit)…. (a nostalgic pose)…I can see the plants and the flowers. Leno made a great job in that garden (pointing to a hanging garden). See all those ampalaya (bitter melon) fruits floating. Before, all we had was trash and putrid smell and noise. But now, our community is greener. We breathe fresher air. I am really contented. We are calmer. I could attest to that. Before, there were small things that irritated me. I easily flared up, I looked for fights. But not anymore. The best thing that ever happened to me was when I concurred to the community decision to become a Gawad Kalinga community (Mang Simon, 59 years old). Another sub-theme that is related to the reduction of community and housing overcrowding is the elimination a major source of conflict among residents. Recall that adult male residents reported that they were usually in the “look-out” mode as their neighbors tried to encroach on their territory. The appropriation of lot sizes, where residents were assigned with either a 32-square meter or a 16-square meter-housing unit eliminated this source of conflict. Here is a narrative from Mang Andres who is soon to be awarded his own house and was one of the “pending” residents: Even if I do not have a finished house yet, and still live in this barong-barong (shanty) I am at peace. I know I will be awarded a 16-square meter house soon. I had been working in the house-build and had been regularly paying my monthly mortgage so I know I will be the next in line (to be awarded a house). But what is important is that everybody now knows that we have limitations in the space that we can occupy. Unlike before where residents steal the spaces of their neighbors if their neighbors were not paying attention. They extend and annex their houses, which eventually encroach to other residents’ spaces. And so if you do not want to be outdone, you also extend and make your annex. It was a big source of conflict among the residents before. But now, with the re-blocking, everybody has a fixed size. Either you have a 32 or a 16 (square meter housing) (Mang Andres, 35 years old). We agreed among ourselves that there would be no annexing. In fact, if we decide to make extensions in our houses, like constructing a third floor, it needs to be agreed upon by the whole community. And everybody is just encouraged not to do an unapproved annex. We don’t want to go back to our previous situation where everybody was just trying to outdo one another (Mang Leno, 47 years old). 109 When asked if the reduction of conflict was also felt by the youth FGD participants, everybody agreed that it was indeed the case. Here is a statement from Richard corroborating the claims of the adult male participants: My friends, when they visited me, told me that our community looked great because of uniform size and appearance of the houses. No house is bigger than the other. There is no jealousy. Walang lamangan (A neighbor trying to outdo the other). Before, residents fight over the spaces (Richard, 20 years old). Finally, the overall improvements in the housing and community conditions also provided opportunities for business to flourish. Though this specific sentiment did not emerge out of the group discussions, it emerged by connecting the narratives of individuals who were engaged in business generation. Here is a typical statement that captures the impact of this theme: Now, in our community, business is much more conducive. The roads are paved, so I can actually bring in vehicles for transportation. And of course, the electricity is much more reliable. So I can have a freezer and buy tocino and longganiza and re-sell it to residents... Ever since the Gawad Kalinga came, more people engaged into business. For example, Aling Citas opened a computer-printing shop and Mang Leonardo opened an internet shop. We cannot do that before. The roads were not paved and there was no reliable electricity (Mang Leno, 47 years old). The statements above show how reductions in community and housing overcrowding through re-blocking, maximization of space, the allocation of uniform lot sizes, and improved housing and community designs affected the social processes in the Gawad Kalinga community. The benefits include increased opportunities for socialization among residents, better supervisions of youths, creating an environment conducive to student learning, reductions in mental irritations and conflict among residents, and the facilitation of businesses. The presence of these beneficial impacts largely conforms to the prediction of the western theoretical model, which suggests that improvements on social structures should translate in improvements in 110 community social processes (Sampson et al., 1997). Particularly, the western model suggests that addressing household and community overcrowding should translate into improved capacity for informal control (Cattarello, 2000; Stark; 1987; Wirth, 1938). Improvements in the physical arrangements of the community also increased the defensible spaces (Newman, 1995) that facilitated the supervision of children and teens. Stark (1987), also implied that reducing household crowding improves the capacity of neighborhood residents to supervise youth activities by enticing them to stay inside the house for longer time periods. These mechanisms were reflected in the local setting. Homeownership: No Longer a Squatter. Another major theme that emerged from resident narratives that manifest structural change is the change of status from “squatter to a homeowner.” For the residents, owning the house and lot improved the community dynamics. Here is what Mang Leno proudly said in an in-depth interview: Would you imagine, Raymund, we finally had a land for our community? We struggled for almost twenty years just to have this land. Now, the land is legally ours. We are no longer called squatters. No one can evict us anymore. We know, most of us are still poor and some of us still live in shanties. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that this place is ours now. Our organization owns this place. We no longer squat in a land that is not ours. And it is very different (Mang Leno, 47 years old). A sub-theme related to homeownership is the dissipation of the feelings of insecurity brought about by the threat of demolition. Almost all the participants in the different FGDs and in-depth interviews concurred with this assessment. This is a statement made by Aling Belen, one of the early recipients of 32-square meter housing and who had previously expressed fear about their precarious land condition: Ah, what a feeling to sleep peacefully at night. Gone was the feeling that anytime you will be demolished. You can go to relatives in the provinces for a vacation and you need not worry about your house getting demolished or burned. Panatag ang iyong kalooban (You feel more relaxed) (Aling Belen, 57 years old). 111 With the feelings of security, residents also reported that they felt at ease in investing for the improvement and maintenance of their houses and the community. They no longer feared the presence of Meralco (Electric Company) and MWSS (Water Company) representatives, which, in the days prior to Gawad Kalinga, meant having their electric or water connections cut off. In an FGD, Aling Petra, a resident awarded with 16-square meter housing unit, had this to say: As soon as we received the title from the Gawad Kalinga awarding us our house, my husband and I immediately sought to have connections for water, electricity, phone and, even TV cable. We also had our floor tiled. And the kitchen, we actually have a water faucet flowing. And it flows 24 hours. We wanted to experience how is it to live where you actually follow the rules. It was our first time to have legal connections and we were excited. We intend to maintain this house because it is ours now (Aling Petra, 47 years old). Recall that Aling Petra is the resident who reported that she had long wanted to improve their shanty but was discouraged strongly by the other residents from doing so. Most FGD participants shared her sentiment. For them, it was much easier to invest for the improvement of their house and to have legal connections because they know that their investments were secure. In the back of their minds, they thought that their houses would no longer be demolished. According to Aling Petra, the immediate effect of this set up was the improved physical condition of the whole community. Aling Petra had these words to add: Now, everybody has legal connections, we encourage everyone to have legal connections. Even if their houses are not yet constructed and they still live in shanties. We also invested in improving the canals and the septic tanks. And so are the streets, they are paved. We invested on those. And thanks to our corporate sponsors, they helped us with the materials for the street lighting. Also, the trash cans. But even if they (corporate sponsors) will not be here anymore, we told ourselves that we should help each other in maintaining this place. It is all our property (Aling Petra, 47 years old). These narratives indicate that the improvements in homeownership status provided the residents with the incentives to be engaged in community upkeep. It facilitated residents’ willingness to be a part of the community collective action, like maintaining the cleanliness of 112 the place. These narratives generally conform to the theoretical assertion that improvement in homeownership increases collective efficacy (Sampson et al., 1997). Another sub-theme that emerged from the narratives of the participants relates to the impact of homeownership and on their sense of community. This brought the residents together to develop common goals. According to the research participants, far from considering themselves as “squatter residents,” they viewed themselves as “residents of a village.” I asked what they meant by “residents of a village” and here is a standard reply: The reason why they called our community as “Gawad Kalinga village” is because we acted like we are villagers. And we mean villagers of rural communities where people know and help each other. And as villagers, we abide by the rules of the village. Mayroong bayanihan, mayroon tulungan (There is civic spirit, we help each other). That is why we are called a village (Aling Glenda, 28 years old). This narrative underscores how homeownership creates a feeling of rootedness in the community that is an ingredient for the mobilization of the residents towards common goals. It is another mechanism that increases the residents’ willingness to intervene. For example, here is a statement by Mang Tonio, a father of 5 children who used to lament the difficulty of living in a slum community: Now that our community is no longer a squatter community—as you can see, it is much cleaner, colorful and no more garbage and trash that used to characterize it— we residents also adjusted our behavior to it. So we no longer throw garbage everywhere, in fact, the moment we see trash, we pick it up. We clean up immediately. Also, as you can see, there are no more people drinking, there are no more displays of public drunkenness. Residents are ashamed to do that now. If they drink, they will do it inside their homes. But not outside. Even the gambling. Especially the noisy gambling where people would shout. Tupada (Cockfighting). Not anymore. No more tambays (hangouts) too… Residents attuned their behavior with their surroundings. With better surroundings came better behaviors (Mang Tonio, 45 years old). A related sub-theme is the impact of homeownership on residents’ “sense of duties and responsibilities” and how it “reordered their lifestyles.” Accordingly, fulfilling these obligations 113 was what set them as “residents of the Gawad Kalinga village.” In phenomenological terms, this is a key epiphany, a major community transformation. Here is a statement from Mang Pedring, also a father of five, who had been an active member of the community and patiently waiting for his house to be finished: We knew from the very beginning that once we are part of the Gawad Kalinga, we will be paying our land mortgages and we will be paying monthly dues for the legal connections of water and electricity which we never bothered having before. And we knew also that we have weekly dues to be collected by the Kapitbahayan. We knew. The Gawad Kalinga staff informed us of this setup before we agreed to be part of the program. And so we prepared ourselves. We knew we have to make sacrifices. On my part, I knew that I must really work hard, save a lot and cut on expenses that are not necessary. I knew that the money and time I used for drinking with my buddies would be cut just so I can meet my obligations. Because, we were told, and I know now to be true: in Gawad Kalinga, you are a villager and villagers have obligations. So I knew that I am going to change my lifestyle when we became a Gawad Kalinga community (Mang Pedring, 44 years old). According to the research participants, Gawad Kalinga provided “order in their lives.” It forced them to work so that they can meet their obligations. For them, Gawad Kalinga gave benefits but these benefits entailed that they have to do their part. Here are narratives that echo similar sentiments: Before, if I don’t want to work, no one will force me. I can drink and gamble all night and it does not make a difference. I am still a squatter the following day. But with Gawad Kalinga now in our community, it is quite different. If I don’t work, then I will not have money to pay our water and electric bills. Then my connections will be cut. And the reconnection fee is very expensive. So it is just better for me to pay on time rather than to be penalized. But to pay on time, I need to work. So Gawad Kalinga forced me, in a way, to work. Gawad Kalinga reordered my life (Mang Dencio, 43 years old). I am assured that I will soon have a house. I am still living in this shanty, yes. But I am already next in line. But I need to work and continue paying the monthly amortization. If I am lazy, which I used to be, then I may not be able to pay my monthly amortization. And that may cost me my right of having a housing unit (Aling Leticia, 43 years old). 114 When informed of these sentiments made by the adult participants, the participants in the FGD for youths likewise agreed. From the youths’ perspective, legal ownership of their house changed their lifestyles and priorities. Here is a comment from Joseph, the former self-admitted delinquent: You know Kuya Raymund, sometimes our friends (from other slum communities) would invite us to go malling and tambay (hangout) in their place but we won’t. Instead of joining them, we just go home and help our parents. We helped in the construction work in the house-build. We helped our parents by working in the house-build. We just know. After school, we go home and help our community. It is part of our obligation now (Joseph, 16 years old). From these statements, the structural change in homeownership, that is, the transition from illegal squatting to legal homeownership, translate to a new definition of their roles as “responsible residents in a community.” It prompted residents to find a steady job and to make sure that no one was left behind in meeting their obligations (Walang iwanan). It presages the cultural frame that propelled residents to achieve a common community goal. It generally conforms to the notion of Sampson et al (1997) that homeownership increases the stake of residents in maintaining the commonwealth of the community. These statements further confirm the western theoretical model assertion that improving the community structural conditions will enhance the residents’ inclination to become law-abiding citizens (Sampson & Jeglum-Bartusch, 1998). Provisions of Employment. Aside from addressing housing and community overcrowding and the provision of homeownership, the Gawad Kalinga program also endeavored to keep the residents employed. While a few residents were already employed prior to the Gawad Kalinga as government employees, police officers, elementary teachers and waiters, most residents were either unemployed or employed in odd jobs like street vending and jeepney driving. Based on the community survey conducted by the Kapitbahayan prior to the 115 Gawad Kalinga program, only 25 percent of the 101 registered households had an adult who was gainfully employed. While a similar survey was not readily available during the time of the data collection, research participants suggested that Gawad Kalinga program had been helpful in bringing employment in the community. There were different mechanisms by which Gawad Kalinga program increased gainful employment. This could be in the form of directly employing the residents, of organizing the residents into a community-based industry, of providing the residents with the necessary skills to find employment elsewhere, or as discussed earlier, of instilling the motivation and incentives for residents to find jobs. For example, during the time of data collection, three residents were employed as Gawad Kalinga staff and they received a regular salary from the Gawad Kalinga organization. The house-build also provided opportunity to 20 former youth tambays to be regularly paid by residents who opted to use surrogates. In terms of community-based businesses, 5 adult males were involved in a silk-screen and shirt printing production, 3 adult females were involved in the production and sale of pastries, and 3 adult residents were involved in the buy-and-sell of meat products. On top of these, Gawad 12 Kalinga volunteers also recommended some residents for employment in the companies the volunteers were affiliated. Below are the different sub-themes related to the resident experiences on the provision of employment and how it impacted the community social processes and culture. One sub-theme that demonstrates the impact of the provision of employment is the reduction of tambay. This is a sentiment that was shared by most of the research participants. 12  Gawad  Kalinga  volunteers  are  non-­‐residents  who  regularly  provided  services  to  the  Gawad   Kalinga  community.    They  could  be  professionals  (medical  doctors,  teachers,  company  workers),   members  of  religious  groups  or  university  students.     116 Here is a statement from Mr. Eduardo, a long time Gawad Kalinga volunteer who had witnessed the growth and transformation of the community: Because of the house-built, there are around 20 youth tambays who come here regularly for work. These youths used to know nothing about construction work. They all learned their skills from here. They also became good friends here. Now we have a steady pool of construction workers. Sometimes, they learned some skilled work, which pays even more. We were able to develop them... And the plan for the future is to come up with a construction company wherein a steady pool of people can be immediately tapped for employment. I vouch that the quality of their work and they are industrious. They are also disciplined (Mr. Eduardo, 54 years old). Mang Leno, the community leader who coordinated the house-build, corroborated this statement: Now, they (youth tambays) are preoccupied. They can work in the housing construction for a fee (4 dollars a day). The fee is not much but considering that they work here, they don’t have to pay for transportation. Also, they have free snacks and lunch, which, if they worked outside, could be additional costs to them. So they may earn 5 dollars outside (the community) but still eventually end up getting 3 dollars. So this is a better choice for them to work here (Mang Leno, 47 years old). Ricky, one of the youth tambays who regularly worked as a surrogate for other residents, admitted that he benefitted greatly from the program. In his words: Ever since I became a worker here, I learned a lot of skills. I believe that when the house-built is over, see we have already finished 55 houses, we are half-finished, by the time we are all done, I can be employed as a construction worker elsewhere. I have the necessary skills and I can be paid better. I know masonry, I know electrical and water connections too… I can do different kind of jobs (Ricky, 20 years old). The opportunity for employment provided to the youths had beneficial effects to the community as a whole. A female adult resident, who used to be very critical about youth activities, had this to say: I noticed that now these youths are less restive. Before, you can see them roaming around the community. Maligalig sila (They were restless). They were peddling different things. They were selling things they probably stole, especially those snatchers. Cellphone, necklaces. Sometimes even drugs. But when they had been busy working (in the house-built), that stopped. They have some money now, I guess (Aling Julia, 29 years old). 117 Other female participants concurred with this observation. The house-built kept the youths busy which lessened the occurrences of tambays. A female FGD participant narrated the following: Because of the house-built, the tambays was tremendously reduced. Since our youths no longer make tambays, tambays from other areas no longer come here because they know people here are busy. So tambay was reduced further. Not so many outsiders are hanging out here anymore. Which, I think, is good (Aling Charing, 38 years old). Similar theme regarding the lessening of tambay emerged as a consequence of adult employment. Mang Doming who was part of the silkscreen project has this to say: I am so grateful to this program. I used to be a street vendor. I sold cigarettes, candies. Sometimes I barked for the jeepneys. It (barking for jeepneys) only made a little (money). Life was tight. Most of the time, I went home frustrated. And to while away time, I just hangout (tambay) with neighbors. Once in a while, neighbors who were jobless also invited me for drink. So we hangout a lot and drink a lot. Good thing, I am now part of the silkscreen and t-shirt printing. We accept printing of shirts. Especially last month, before students went to school, we printed a lot of uniforms. It kept us really busy. No more tambay (Mang Doming, 38 years old). These statements underscore the importance of employment in reducing idle time among the residents. It conforms to the notion propounded by Wilson (1987) on the effects of employment as an ordering mechanism to the schedule, lifestyle and discipline of residents. It also conforms to the notion that employment acts as form of informal control to the lifestyle of individuals (Sampson & Laub, 1990). It generally emphasizes the effect of improving the structural conditions (provision of employment) to the social processes in the community. Aside from reducing tambay, one of the key effects of improved opportunities for employment is the reduction in the involvement in the illegal or underground economy. Recall that in the days prior to the Gawad Kalinga program, residents reported that the difficulties of finding a job that brought enough food in the table forced them to be engaged in any form of 118 employment, legal or otherwise. The employment opportunities provided by Gawad Kalinga, accordingly, encouraged them to disengage in illegal economy. Here is a statement from Mang Dencio who earlier claimed that Gawad Kalinga reordered his life and was once an active minion of a “gambling lord”: I stopped it. I stopped my involvement in the cockfighting. I also stopped the card games. I knew it was lucrative and easy money. I had been looking for jobs but it was on and off. That was why I was forced to operate the gambling here. But not anymore. I have a decent job now. I have been offered by Gawad Kalinga to spearhead the house build. You see, I am a carpenter. It pays a little but at least, what I feed my children are the fruits of my honest labor (Mang Dencio, 43 years old). Here is a statement from a professional squatter who was in-charge of the silkscreen and t-shirt printing. Before, I had a three-storey shanty. I had three rooms that were rented out. I also managed the illegal water connections. I was forced to do it because if I don’t, my family will starve. And if I don’t, others will do it anyway. But with this silkscreen and t-shirt printing, I won’t complain. It doesn’t earn much but at least, it is sufficient. And steady. And this is a legal job. At walang taong magagalit sa iyo (No one will get mad at you) (Mang June, 38 years old). These statements also underscore the impact employment on the mindset of the residents. Being employed provided the residents a new cultural script to be law-abiding residents. It conforms to the assertion of the western theoretical model that improving the structural conditions (provision of employment) generally creates a community sentiment where following the law becomes the norm (Sampson & Jeglum-Bartusch, 1998). On top of the reduction of tambays and the curtailment of illegal or underground economy, another key impact of the increase in the number of residents who were employed is the improvement in household and community resources. This sub-theme is particularly salient among housewives who usually managed the family and community finances. Here are narratives shared by female residents that demonstrate this theme: 119 It used to be that I had difficulty making both ends meet. My husband used to be engaged in odd jobs. Sometimes he worked for a week and then he doesn’t work for two weeks. And so we had to ask our children to stop their schooling and instead help us to work. My daughter who was in second year in college had to stop her schooling and help me do some laundry. But my husband had been recommended by a Gawad Kalinga volunteer to work in the Mang Andoks (a local food chain) and that had been helpful. At least, now we were able to send the kids back to school (Aling Evelyn, 44 years old). We used to experience hunger here. When my kids go to school, they complained that they were hungry and cannot concentrate in school. I used to pity them a lot. But I was lucky, I was one of those included in the pastry business. We prepare polvoron, banana chips, and other food products. The Gawad Kalinga connected us with a local businessman and the businessman purchases and sells our products. It had been helpful. At least our kids have something to eat regularly. They had better performance in school as well. Life had been good lately. Awa ng Diyos (Through God’s mercy) (Aling Milagros, 24 years old). The improvement in resources was also felt in the community level. Here is a representative statement made by Aling Marita, who used to be the treasurer of the HOA: Before, most people did not have money. It took a lot of explaining to ask them to contribute. But now, it is easier. People contribute more often. Just the other day, two of the streetlights malfunctioned. We came up with a note asking residents for contributions. Isang ikutan lang (Within just a round), we were able to solicit more than enough. Unlike before, if you do that, ang habang paliwanagan (you need to make a lot of explanations). Make a lot of rounds. Even if you say, we need the lights to keep the drug addicts away; it is hard for them to contribute. Of course, most residents were unemployed. Kahit papaano, may napaghuhugutan sila (But now, residents have, in one way or the other, some form of employment (Aling Marita, 56 years old). The improvement in community resources (through increase in gainful employment) also translated in the number of activities sponsored in the community. The communal activities, on the other hand, facilitated socialization among residents. A statement drawn from one of my informal conversations went this way: Before, seldom do you see people celebrate their birthdays. Kung may patay lang kami nagtitipon-tipon (We used to gather only during wakes). But not now. Now, we celebrate school graduations, baptisms and weddings. More residents participate. Probably because our community has better facilities now, especially with the construction of our multipurpose building. But I think it is because, residents now have at least some extra money to spare. Look at the residents involved in the silk screen and 120 the meat buy- and-sell. They make pretty good money they even had some thanksgiving party. Nagpapasikat din sila ng kaunti (They show off a bit). It is really nice seeing our community getting together that way (Mang Leno, 47 years old). Through improved community resources, residents were able to sustain the physical improvements introduced in the community. For instance, when the corporate sponsor fell short of construction materials needed to finish the school component of the multi-purpose hall, the residents themselves pulled resources to finish it. A mother, who used to complain about the difficulties of sending her kids to other communities, has this to say: It was so difficult before, when our community was still neglected and squatter. We did not have school here. So we walk our kids to the nearest school. And the roads were not paved. But now, with most residents having some source of income, the residents were willing to contribute for school construction. It so nice to see them concerned about our kids’ well-being. And even if they have a lot of obligations with the new Gawad Kalinga set up, they are willing to provide assistance to the school and to share their resources (Aling Marta, 44 years old). Aling Belen who was involved in the meat buy-and-sell corroborates this sentiment. Not only did the business provide her with income to meet day-to-day needs, it also allowed her to spare some money to meet the community needs. While explaining the mechanics of their business, here is what she said: Every Saturday night, we would go out to the meat market and buy pork and beef. Then early Sunday morning, we would set up a stall, near the multipurpose hall, and residents would just come with their orders. Some residents pay in cash, but most incur credit. We then collect the credit all throughout the week. We have a logbook that records how much they owe us. We can allow them to have a credit of Php500 ($12.00). Residents usually pay on time. And from the earnings, we get our income, the three of us. So we help them because they can avail of the food for credit and then they help us because we have income. Also, a portion of our profits is given back to the community. For example, our business sponsors the snacks for the school every time there are teacher-parent gatherings. So they patronize us even more. So our community has more resources (Aling Belen, 57 years old). 121 These statements underscore the beneficial impacts of gainful employment. Gainful employment increases household and community resources, which then improve family conditions (sending of children to school); facilitate the achievement of common goals (financial contributions for street lighting and teacher-parent gatherings); and provide opportunities for further socialization (block parties). This generally conforms to the notion of Shaw and McKay (1942) regarding the importance of money and resources in the activation of social ties and informal control in the community. The improvement of resources and the consequences it entailed provided the research participants with another key realization: how Gawad Kalinga changed their views about poverty and lack of resources. While most participants admitted that their household and community was “still not materially well off,” they no longer felt the emotional and social baggage associated with “being poor”(buhay mahirap). This also demonstrates the impact of structural change to the culture of the residents. To illustrate, here is a statement from Aling Evelyn in elaborating the benefits of his husband’s employment: Before, because we did not pay for monthly land amortization, we paid little for electricity and water bills because it was all illegally connected, even if we did not work very hard, we can still survive. Kuntento na kami sa buhay squatter (We were contented in the life of a squatter). We still had spare money for our vices like smoking and gambling… But our mind was not contented. Our heart was restless… But now, we pay for everything. So we work hard to pay for the monthly amortization, to pay the bills and other contributions in the community. So in the end, we end up not having spare money. My husband and I actually felt we are poorer, at least financially. But when we think that this house and lot is legally ours now and we can actually let this be inherited by our children, we realized we are actually richer. We actually have more resources now. And that probably explains why we give more when we are asked (Aling Evelyn, 44 years old). In summary, these narratives suggest that poverty alleviation, through the provisions of employment, affected both the social processes and culture of the community. Provision of 122 employment translates in the reduction of idle time among residents, in the curtailment of informal or illegal economy, and in the creation of household and community wealth. It also translates into improvements in collective sense of well being, that is, the notion that the community was “no longer poor”. All these narratives generally conform to the assertions of the western theoretical model on the effects of poverty reduction on community social processes and community culture. For example, poverty reduction, through provisions of employment, had been associated with improved community resources, which then facilitated informal control (Kornhauser, 1978; Shaw & MacKay, 1942; Wilson, 1987). Employment is also associated with improvement of community culture like reduction of legal cynicism (Anderson, 1999; Sampson & Jeglum-Bartusch, 1998). All these mechanisms were manifested in the local setting. Overcoming Population Heterogeneity. As discussed in the previous chapter, prior to the Gawad Kalinga program, residents considered their neighbors as either "allies or enemies." The fact that most residents came from different provinces and that residents encouraged relatives to stay in their place temporarily meant that population heterogeneity and turnover was high. Coupled with the threat of demolition, there was an elevated level of suspicion among the residents. In the process, the slum community was fragmented. Residents treated their neighbors as either "allies or enemies." There are two mechanisms identified by the residents wherein they overcame population heterogeneity. First is through the obligation of paying the monthly amortization, which the residents have to communally address for the next 25 years. According to the community leaders, this common obligation changed the dynamics of ethno-linguistic heterogeneity. The following narrative, made by Mang Leno, describes how residents experienced this change: Yes, our community is still composed of different ethno-linguistic groups. There are still Ilokanos, Ilongos, Kapampangans and Tagalogs. There are also Bisayas and Warays. It 123 doesn’t really matter. What is important to us is that we are all members of this community. And we are tied by the same commitments. So I won’t differentiate between an Ilokano and a Bisaya the way I used to. What matters is for every resident to pay the monthly amortization because if they don’t pay, then all of us will be affected. I will help my neighbors, even if they are not my kababayan (same ethno-linguistic group) or kamag-anak (relatives) so they can meet their obligations (Mang Leno, 47 years old). In this statement, the obligation entailed by legal homeownership imposed upon the residents the need to transcend their ethno-linguistic differences. Accordingly, all 101 registered households must pay the monthly amortization together where a failure of one may affect the whole community. Sabay sabay kaming lulubog o lilitaw (We will sink or swim together). This sentiment is especially salient among Kapitbahayan leaders who supervised the collection of monthly amortizations. The adult male and youth research participants narrated a different mechanism in overcoming ethno-linguistic barriers. According to male and youth participants, the provision of sweat equity, where residents are asked to participate in the construction of each other’s house, is the key. Here is a statement by Mang Tonio, a member of the Bisaya ethno-linguistic group and a former jeepney barker: Before, because of the fragmentation in the community, we were suspicious of other ethno-linguistic groups. There were many factions. I was particularly apprehensive of the Kapampangan because they used to bully my family and me. But ever since they constructed my house, my views about them changed. Would you imagine, they participated in building my house? So I no longer view them as strangers, as Ilokanos and Tagalogs and Kapampangans who used to intimidate me. I see them as neighbors who constructed my house. I had a lot of respect for them (Mang Tonio, 45 years old). This statement is echoed by Ronnie, the youth participant who was active in the housebuilt and whose parents are Waray: While we knew the Ilokanos and the Kapampangans by faces (prior to Gawad Kalinga), we were never close to them. But ever since we participated in the house-built, we consider them as real friends. They are no longer strangers to us. We now know them by names. We became closer with each other because we see each other during work (Ronnie, 19 years old). 124 These statements highlight the beneficial impacts of overcoming population heterogeneity. Accordingly, it improved residents’ capacity for collective action (helping each other pay the amortization), reduced levels of anonymity and animosity, and increased the levels of social cohesion (no longer a stranger). It also introduced new cultural scripts (we will sink or swim together) that further promote the wellbeing of the whole community. Overcoming Residential Instability. There are also two mechanisms identified by the residents in which residential instability was addressed. The first is through the opportunities that had been created by the Gawad Kalinga program, like the provision of legal homeownership, improved housing units, employment and overall advancement in the quality of life. All these developments enticed residents to stay in the community. Whereas prior to Gawad Kalinga, residents felt the need to leave the community as opportunities elsewhere arose, with the new set up, residents reported that they see themselves reside in the community for a longer term. Here is a statement by Aling Marta, the schoolteacher who also dabbled in longanisa and tocino business, in an in-depth interview: It used to be “we want out.” This place was crowded, insecure. Kids got sick all the time. And of course, people labeled you as squatter. If you go outside the community, you can’t proudly say, “you are a resident of the community.” So I always thought that I would bring my kids out of here. Lalayasan naming ang lugar na ito (We will flee from this place)… But that changed. Now, we are no longer squatters. The land is ours. We can no longer be evicted. But more importantly, this had been a livable place. And I can see myself staying here until I get old. And I tell my husband we don’t have to go elsewhere. We are contented here (Aling Marta, 44 years old). Here is another narrative shared by Aling Belen, a member of the buy and sell business that indicates residential stability: I think that this place will be my place until I am old. And I wanted my children and grandchildren to live here to. We are going to stay here. We are not going elsewhere. I am employed here. The place had been peaceful and my neighbors had been helpful. I 125 can see in the future that my neighbors now will still be my neighbors by then (Aling Belen, 57 years old). Another mechanism that facilitated the stability of the population was the curtailment of the practice of renting available room to outsiders. This reduced the number of transient residents who would temporarily stay in the community. A statement by Ricky, a youth who grew up in the community, captures the dynamics of this set up: Ever since we had the Gawad Kalinga, residents can no longer rent out their houses to other people. Bawal na (It is prohibited). At first, my parents hated that rule because it was a loss of income. We used to have a room rented. But then, it eventually turned out fine. Nabawasan ang dayo (Presence of strangers was reduced). Now, only those registered residents can stay here. If their relatives come for a visit, residents make an effort to introduce them to us so we will know them immediately (Ricky, 20 years old). Indeed, based on the Kapitbahayan community records, the population had been steady since the implementation of the Gawad Kalinga program. The entire 101 registered household recognized by the Kapitbahayan since the start of the program in 2007 had remained intact and none had left the place. From the community surveys, 17 of 20 (85%) respondents also reported that they intend to stay in the community in the years to come even if opportunities elsewhere arose. This is in sharp contrast to the answers of respondents in the nearby slum community where only 20% (2 of 10) said they would not leave their community. From these narratives, it can be discerned that Gawad Kalinga fostered improvements in the ethno-linguistic heterogeneity and residential instability that eventually translated into the lessening of feelings of anonymity among the residents. It also brought the residents for collective action. These statements largely conform to the descriptions of the western theoretical model that predicts beneficial impacts on community dynamics when population heterogeneity and residential instability are attenuated (Kasarda & Janowitz, 1974). 126 B. Redirecting Social Processes Towards Conventional Ends The previous section described how the residents experienced the structural change in the community. The reduction of household and community crowding, the provision of legal housing, the increase in employment, and the reduction in population heterogeneity and instability, impacted both the community social processes and community culture. In this section, the efforts of the Gawad Kalinga program to organize and mobilize the residents as an independent mechanism to improve community social processes are investigated. Taking the cue from the western theoretical model that suggests that social processes can be used by the residents for either conventional or unconventional ends (Anderson, 1999; Pattillo, 1998), this section also describes how the social processes are specifically utilized for more conventional purposes. This narrative, provided by Aling Rosing, captures how the social processes are activated in the Gawad Kalinga community: Previously, we were only acquaintances. We were neighbors, yes...But the relationship was not sincere… it is only because, we needed something. Gamitan (We use each other). We don’t really feel comfortable…But now ...it is quite different. Relationships now are intimate. You can trust that they will help you ... like a member of the family ... See, they helped us when my house was constructed. And I helped them in theirs. It is like… look at him, you only see him before drunk in the streets. But now, you know him as one who constructed your house. And he did it for free. So that is a lot to thank for, right? So you have a kind of respect him... We became more intimate friends. We became closer. That is why when I see his son becoming truant; I felt it was my obligation to call the attention of his son. That is my way of repaying him. And I think everyone feels the same way here (Aling Rosing, 45 years old). From this statement, Aling Rosing confirms the presence of strong social ties even prior to the Gawad Kalinga program. As described in the previous chapter (Slum conditions), residents went to each other for help and they supported each other find jobs. The residents also used to have a Homeowners Association (HOA) that set up rules, mediated conflicts, and 127 accessed outside resources. The presence of interlocking ties, based on family and ethnolinguistic affiliations, had been noted in most slum communities (Jocano, 1975; Laquian, 1964). Indeed, results of the community survey showed that the average rating of respondents in the nearby slum community on the social cohesion scale were almost identical with the scores of the Gawad Kalinga residents (GK mean score is 16.8 (N=20) and slum community is 15.6 (N=10); t= -1.193; not significant). The above narrative points out, however, that the previous relationship was characterized by suspicion and distrust as the community used to be fragmented. In the residents’ words, the relationship was not sincere. Recall also that leaders had used the indigenous organization (HOA) to promote individualistic, familial or parochial interests. As such, social processes like social ties and informal control had been previously utilized for negative ends. What is different, as can be discerned from this narrative, was the redirection of the community social processes towards more pro-social and conventional ends. As demonstrated in this narrative, a resident used social ties to call the attention of a truant youth. Based on resident narratives, there are two mechanisms in which the community social processes had been strengthened. First was through the improvements in the community social structures. As described in detail in the preceding section, structural changes resulted in improved socialization among residents, in improved supervision of youths, and in reductions of feelings of animosity and anonymity. As had been noted, these are consistent with the expectations of the western theoretical model that suggests that structural conditions affect the community social processes (Sampson & Groves, 1989; Sampson et al., 1997). The second manner in which community social processes were redirected towards prosocial and conventional ends was through the transformation and revitalization of the 128 Kapitbahayan. The Kapitbahayan serves as the focal point in which the Gawad Kalinga program organized and mobilized the community leaders and members. The key here is the success of the Gawad Kalinga to convince the leaders to buy-in to a new way of doing things or the introduction of new cultural scripts in the community. This underscores the importance of culture in conditioning the impact of social processes. To understand more fully the social processes engendered by the Gawad Kalinga program, a brief description of the Kapitbahayan and how the community partnered with Gawad Kalinga is provided. The Kapitbahayan. As previously mentioned, one of the key components of the Gawad Kalinga program is the formation of a Kapitbahayan or neighborhood association. This is usually facilitated by a group of Gawad Kalinga volunteers called the “caretaker team.” In this Gawad Kalinga site, the caretaker team was composed of four couples that regularly visited the community from 2007 to 2010. The caretaker team identified local leaders from the community. They also trained the leaders to the “Gawad Kalinga way” and introduced them to new cultural frames that guide the behaviors of leaders in the community. Given that the HOA had already been active prior to the arrival of the Gawad Kalinga, the caretaker team worked with the HOA leadership. The caretaker team nurtured the Kapitbahayan leaders for three years, up until the time that the Kapitbahayan stood by itself. The Kapitbahayan was composed of a President, a Vice-President, a Secretary, a Treasurer and an Auditor. All of the Kapitbahayan leaders (except the Auditor) used to be leaders in the previous homeowners association (HOA). The Community Transformation. The transformation of the slum community to Gawad Kalinga community was not a simple process. It took a while before the leaders and the residents were convinced. Here is a narrative from Mang Simon, the president of the Kapitbahayan that describes the process of becoming a Gawad Kalinga community: 129 When the Gawad Kalinga approached our community, I was quite hesitant. It was Leno whom they approached first because Leno was a member of the Couples for Christ. Leno informed us that there was this group called Gawad Kalinga that allegedly provided land and constructed houses for squatter residents. At first, I did not believe it. There had been numerous efforts by our own organization to buy the land from the landowners but it always did not push through... But then, the Gawad Kalinga leaders came here and explained to us the program. Then, they asked us to visit another Gawad Kalinga site. I was impressed by what I saw but I still had some reservations. Until finally, they invited us to meet the president of the corporation that sponsored the construction materials. He was a foreigner. And I personally heard from him that his company would shoulder the cost of the housing materials. It was then that I got convinced. It seemed to be real (Mang Simon, 59 years old). Here is a recounting by Aling Citas, the current secretary of the Kapitbahayan: There were numerous discussions in our community of whether we want to partner with the Gawad Kalinga program. They (Gawad Kalinga staff) informed us of the mechanics of the program. A key concern among us was the idea that we will have a re-blocking. Residents who used to have bigger lot areas and multiple annexes did not like the idea of re-blocking. They wanted “as is where is” where they will retain their current location and current lot sizes. And so, we the leaders of the homeowners association had to consult with the residents. Most residents did not believe at first that we could actually own a house. And even among us leaders, we also had our reservations (Aling Citas, 44 years old). Most of the research participants also admitted that they initially did not believe in the “promises of the Gawad Kalinga.” According to Mang Leno, Gawad Kalinga courted the leaders first. Mang Leno, the vice-president, has this to say: Bilib ako sa tiyaga nila (I was impressed by their patience). Nagbakasakali lang ako (I just tried) to invite Gawad Kalinga leaders to come to the community. But I did not expect that they would actually do their best to convince us. They came almost every week to explain what the program was all about. Until, finally, the officers agreed. The first thing Gawad Kalinga did was for us to undergo a fourteen-week values formation seminar. It was a Christian Life Seminar (CLS). It basically described the rules and way of life in the Gawad Kalinga community. After the seminar, almost all of the leaders were convinced. Except for Aling Sening, our previous auditor, who became a rekal. After our CLS, we also had a CLS for all the residents. And then we had a plebiscite, whether we wanted to be a Gawad Kalinga community or not. It was then that Gawad Kalinga formed the Kapitbahayan. We were the ones who campaigned to other residents to vote yes (Mang Leno, 47 years old). 130 According to Mang Leno, the residents eventually approved the partnership of their community with the Gawad Kalinga, except for a few residents who remained skeptical (more on this on the next chapter about rekal and pending residents). Upon garnering the community approval, the Gawad Kalinga embarked on what a volunteer termed as an “extensive leadership training” for the Kapitbahayan leaders. Mr. Eduardo, a Gawad Kalinga staff who saw the evolution of the community, has this recollection: Away –away pa noong una (There were a lot of bickering in the beginning). Especially between Simon and Leno. They wanted their relatives to be given multiple housing units and to be awarded first. They also liked to be assigned in the best locations. Malapit sa bungad (near the entrance). We had to painstakingly explain to them that that is not the Gawad Kalinga way. That being leaders, they should be the first to serve but be the last to receive benefits (Una sa serbisyo, huli sa benepisyo). At first, they did not get it. Kaya pinagtiyagaan namin (We were patient). Eventually, it bore fruit. Simon and Leno got reconciled. Good thing because when they were on our side, it became easier for us to reach and communicate with the residents. And they both agreed that assignment of houses would be done by bunutan (drawing lots) to make it fair. They were also the ones who convinced the residents that those who had bigger lot areas (usually the owners) be given 32-square meter housing and the rest 16-square meter housing (Mr. Eduardo, 54 years old). The Gawad Kalinga approach of nurturing the indigenous community leaders, according to female research participants, was a key ingredient in the community’s transformation. Recalling how notorious (salbahe) Simon was prior to Gawad Kalinga, here is what a resident in an in-depth interview said: When pres (Simon) was transformed, it made me realized that Gawad Kalinga was indeed a different program. I never thought that Simon could ever change ways. He used to make our lives miserable here. He used to intimidate us because he was well connected with powers that be. But now, he uses his connections to benefit us all. Since he had connections in the city hall, he linked us to a city politician who helped as facilitate the transfer of land title. He used his connections to ask politicians to negotiate in our behalf (Aling Jacinta, 34 years old). These narratives exemplify how the community social processes (informal control by the leaders, vertical ties to public offices) had been utilized to achieve conventional goals. Recall 131 from the previous chapter that these social processes had been previously utilized by the leaders to advance their personal gains. According to the residents, what is different between the previous HOA and the Kapitbahayan, despite almost similar people running the organizations, is the new cultural frames that guided the Kapitbahayan. Manifestations of Collective Efficacy. With the reinvigoration and revitalization of the Kapitbahayan leadership, the levels of collective efficacy (Sampson et al, 1997) in the community increased. One manifestation of collective efficacy could be discerned in the role of the Kapitbahayan in instituting rules on community housing: It used to be that anyone could live here. There were no defined rules on who could rent, or who could share and who could make extensions (annex) in their houses. As a result, the alleys became narrower and narrower. Everyone can operate a business, even if it is illegal… and so the whole community was a mess. Some would operate cards games like tong-its right in their shanties. When fights erupted because of gambling, no one will come in to mediate. Matira ang matibay (It was survival of the fittest). You needed to be tough. You can’t be a sissy. Now, through the Kapitbahayan, we have rules. First, the Kapitbahayan strictly prohibited renting out a room. So outsiders no longer come and go. Second, Kapitbahayan instituted rules for accommodating relatives. That is, before relatives can stay in the community and become sharers, the host-resident must first seek permission from the Kapitbahayan. They (sharers) also needed to be introduced to the residents. Third, the Kapitbahayan instituted a policy on selling the housing units. That is, before residents can sell their housing unit, they have to get permission from the Kapitbahayan, too. The association has a say on who will come in as buyers. Finally, the Kapitbahayan has also instituted rules against using the houses for illegal businesses. A Gawad Kalinga house can no longer be used for gambling. I applaud these policies. Why? Because, it is we, residents, who will be dealing with the newcomers and dealing with the consequences of illegal businesses (Mang Dencio, 43 years old). With the transformation of the Kapitbahayan, other manifestations of collective efficacy became apparent. Through the Kapitbahayan, residents came up with rules on cleaning the surroundings, of taking turns shouldering the nightly expenses for street lamps, of providing lunch and snacks for workers in the house-built, and of parents taking turns in preparing food for the pupils and teachers in the Sibol school program. The Kapitbahayan also successfully 132 promulgated community rules like the prohibition of public drinking, gambling in the streets, and use of illegal water and electric connections. Use of Vertical Ties for Conventional Purposes. With this feeling of support from community leaders, residents reported that they maximized their personal connections for the benefit of the community. Aside from Mang Simon, other local leaders and residents had used their connections to outside institutions for the benefit of the community. In a community meeting that I attended, I learned the following: Aling Marta, who was public schoolteacher, recruited volunteers from her school to help in the Sibol program. I also learned that Mang Pedring, who was a police officer, spearheaded the plan of developing a local police (bantay bayan) and of bringing the volunteer-residents to the police detachment for training. I also gathered that members of the Siga, the local youth group, were able to tie up with universitybased students and were able to stage a theater production of a play entitled “Young Rizal.” Sustaining the Gains of the Gawad Kalinga Program. The Kapitbahayan had been instrumental in sustaining the beneficial impact of the change initiated by Gawad Kalinga program. A recurrent theme that arose regarding the residents’ view of their Kapitbahayan is the idea that Kapitbahayan made sure that the community did not regress to its old setup. This provided the Kapitbahayan leaders an opportunity to further exercise the community social processes for the collective benefit of all the residents. For example, if residents were not able to meet their monthly amortization, the Kapitbahayan leaders were there to assist the residents. Here is a statement by Mang Orlando that supported this theme: It used to be (in HOA), if you cannot pay your credit on time, they would add up interest. Gigipitin ka lalo (They will put more pressure on you). But with the Kapitbahayan, if you cannot pay on time, they will shoulder your payments temporarily up until the time that you have the money. Our community has come a long way. They will support you, ask what made you short (in payment) and they even refer you for work or provide you with one if they knew some jobs available. They impress on us that payment is our 133 community obligation. They don’t want the community to lose the land title (Mang Orlando, 33 years old). The Kapitbahayan has also been in the forefront of maintaining the transformed image of the community. While the structural changes like provision of jobs had reduced youth tambay and drug use in the community, should this re-occur, the Kapitbahayan leaders exercised their informal control. According to the Kapitbahayan leaders, it did not matter whether the residents involved were close relatives or not; what mattered was the protection of the community image. From my field notes, here is an informal conversation with Mang Leno that captures this theme: Mang Leno said, “There was this young man, son of Aling Belinda. We already called his attention a few times because he was using and selling drugs (shabu). First, we talked to the mother (the father had passed away) and I inquired, ‘Aling Belinda, what was going on with your son and why was your son selling drugs.’ She said ‘she can’t control him. (Di niya mapangaralan).’ The son had been with his barkada (friends) who influenced him. And so we explained to her that we had an agreement in our community that drugs were no longer tolerated.” Talking to me, he continued: “It was embarrassing to Gawad Kalinga and to our sponsors. We prided ourselves with the belief that our community was drug-free when it was not… the reason why we were able to generate resources from the outside was based on the belief that drugs no longer existed here. If they (Gawad Kalinga and sponsors) learned about it (drug use), all of us will suffer. Even if only one of our members committed the wrong, all will suffer… that was why, I told Aling Linda, ‘even if you are my kababayan, even if you are my kumare, we have to discipline your son. We are here to help you with your son. Do you want us to talk to him? We will discipline him. This is for all for our benefit. Or else, we will be obliged to take action against him, have him arrested by the police, even if you are my wife’s cousin’” (Mang Leno, 47 years old). From this statement, Mang Leno gave lesser premium to the social ties he had with Aling Belinda, who was his kababayan (same ethno-lingustic group), kumare (fictive kinship) and his wife’s relative. Instead, he emphasized the need to achieve the overall community goals, which in this case, was the maintenance of a drug-free community. Mang Leno was willing to 134 discipline his own nephew and kababayan in order to get rid of drug dealers in the community. This exercise of social processes towards conventional ends is in stark contrast to the practices prior to the Gawad Kalinga where residents would utilize their social ties in the community for negative ends like shielding a drug dealer from the reach of formal authorities. Eliminating Favoritism and Factionalism. Another theme that emerged from the residents’ narratives is the elimination of favoritism and factionalism, which created an environment that was conducive for the conventional activation of community social processes. Recall that in the previous slum set up, residents reported that leaders used to decide along family and ethno-linguistic lines when resolving housing and other conflicts. According to the residents, the Kapitbahayan leaders, due to their training from the Gawad Kalinga caretaker teams, stick to the agreed upon rules and they evaluate matters objectively. Here is Mang Simon’s testimony that corroborates this theme: I admit, God forgives me, I used to play favorites. Nakakahiya mang aminin ngunit totoo (I ashamed to admit, but it was true). But ever since I understood the Gawad Kalinga way, I realized, and so with my fellow Kapitbahayan officers, we were not helping the community at all. Now, we see that rules are important and we have to abide by what we agreed upon. It takes a lot of discipline and it is also a loss of income, but in the long run, it benefits us all (Mang Simon, 59 years old). Residents reported that they were no longer fearful of biased decisions emanating from the Kapitbahayan. They were assured of fair treatment. Here are statements that captured this sentiment: Like I previously mentioned, hindi na uso ang palakasan (favoritism does not work here anymore). Like what happened last week, I reported the family of the Domingos since they had not been participating in the house-built for the past three weeks. The Domingos were good friends of the Secretary. If that happened previously, the Secretary would simply ignore the complaint. But now, no. “Sec” was even ashamed because it was the people close to her who were giving the officers headaches. And so “Sec” told them, though in a nice way, that if they won’t show up and make up on their missed 135 house-built assignments, they may not have a house in the future. Maaga pa sa alaskwatro, hayun nagpakita. (They showed up immediately) (Aling Charing, 38 years old). It used to be that the name of the game was gapangan at gulangan (shrewdness and machinations). Even if you were right, if you did not have the proper connections, you will lose your case. That happened to me quite a lot before. Especially with my neighbor who was really shrewd. He was close to Simon so Simon always favored him. That was how I lose my space. But now, my neighbor can no longer do that because now, rules are rules. We got both a 16 square meters. Patas kami ulit. (We are equal again) (Mang Tonio, 45 years old). The lesser emphasis given to relatives and kababayan also indicated the lessening of factionalism in the community. Recall that previously, there was animosity among the different ethno-linguistic groups, especially those headed by Simon and Leno, where factions competed on the use of community resources. With their transformation as Kapitbahayan leaders, the factions dissipated. This narrative best exemplifies this theme: As I have told you, before, you cannot pass on the other side of the street as the minions of Simon controlled those. That was their territory. But now, we come and go. We do not hold grudges anymore. In fact, I had a lot of respect to Simon now. I mingle to them daily now. Wala nang padri-padrino (No more patron-client relationships). You won’t be hurt if you go to their territory. In fact, no more territories (Mang Efren, 54 years old). The adult female FGD participants shared this sentiment. According to adult female participants, the residents followed suit when their leaders became good friends. Here is a statement made by Aling Petra: Our husbands, they used to be die-hard followers of either Simon or Leno. Of course, they do that because if they did not align themselves to any of them before, our families will be at a disadvantage. And so the fights of Leno and Simon, even if they were not actually involved, became their fights as well. That is why I am really thankful that they are now good friends. It is a miracle how they became good friends when in fact they were bitter enemies before. And so their followers are good friends now too (Aling Petra, 47 years old). Further Engagement in the Community. With the dissipation of favoritism and factionalism, residents felt the need to be fully engaged in the community. They felt the need for 136 an all-out support since the success of the community depended on them, thus increasing the level of organizational participation. Recall that prior to Gawad Kalinga, residents reported that they joined community activities just for the sake of joining (limited liability). Here is a statement that expressed this theme: Before, because you don’t know if the leaders will like the merits of your ideas, you hold back a little bit. Because before, even if you had very good ideas, your ideas will not prosper with a leader if you were associated with his enemy factions… So yes, we just showed up in the activities before, but not in terms of actively joining. We joined the activities just for the purpose that we know what was happening around us and that they will not say we don’t care (na wala kaming pakialam). Minimal presence only. But now, it is different. We join all out. We are no longer afraid to express our ideas, because they will evaluate it on its own merits. Nagpapakatoo na kami (We are truthful). Wala na ring balimbingan (We don’t flip-flop anymore). Our positions don’t change because we know they will not take it against us. Before, you need to flip-flop because you might get in trouble by just sharing your ideas... There is no need for that now. Instead, we join all out now. Joining all out is important now because the success of our community depended on everyone. Not just the leaders (Aling Glenda, 28 years old). From this narrative, residents indicate that they did not see the need to “flip-flop” or to change their views or ways depending on the person whom they were with. For example, if they took a position against gambling and they called the attention of a resident engaged in gambling, they felt that they could maintain their position regardless of how well-connected that resident was. Unlike before the Gawad Kalinga program, they could only call the attention of residents whom they knew were less connected than them for fear of reprisal. Accordingly, residents now felt that their positions, as long as it was right and meritorious, will be supported by the community residents. This feeling that the community will support them encouraged them to be “engaged all out.” This boosted the attendance in community meetings and invigorated their participation in neighborhood activities. Here is another narrative from an in-depth interview: Before (the Gawad Kalinga program), we were aware of the activities of residents here in the community. We knew who were engaged in gambling, in illegalities. We knew the drunkards. It was a way of life before. Sometimes we join them just for the sake of pakikisama (going along), but then, we really don’t join. We left something for 137 ourselves. We did not join the gossiping. We knew how to deal with them, knew their rules so that we won’t get in trouble, but we don’t really join them and do what they were doing. So I say before, we have a limited involvement. We did not want to be associated with a faction. But now, we join all out. Todo-todo ang suporta (All out support). We join the activities because it will benefit everyone (Mang Efren, 54 years old). All the narratives above indicate that the community social processes (social ties, informal control, indigenous leadership, vertical ties to outside resources) were employed towards purposeful action. This indicates that the level of collective efficacy among the residents was improved with the reinvigoration and re-direction of the local organization. The use of the social processes towards more conventional purposes was facilitated by the introduction of new cultural scripts introduced by the Gawad Kalinga and the reductions in factionalism and favoritism in the community. The above narratives underscore the importance of the new cultural frames in redirecting the use of social processes towards conventional ends. In the succeeding section, the content and sources of these cultural frames are discussed. C. Change in Community Culture The previous section documented the manifestations in which the community social processes like social ties and informal control had been activated for proactive purposes. The previous section hinted that the community social processes had been redirected towards more conventional ends. In this section, emphasis will be given to the cultural frames or scripts (Swidler, 1986) that the residents employed to justify or rationalize the use of social processes towards conventional end. Specifically, based on the resident narratives, this section will trace how the new cultural frames or scripts were introduced and how it affected the use of community social processes. Recall from the previous chapter that due to the problems of land squatting, housing overcrowding, poverty, and joblessness, residents reportedly developed a “code of survival” and 138 “sense of powerlessness” in dealing with their conditions. Accordingly, they felt justified in engaging in behaviors like squatting and illegal economy (gambling and drugs) in order to survive. Additionally, residents reported that the lack of resources pitted them against each other necessitating the creation of factions along family or ethno-linguistic lines. The factionalism, in turn, translated in favoritism among the leaders and which further eroded trust among residents. The community was thus socially and territorially fragmented and residents developed cultural frames and scripts that guided their behaviors. Specifically, residents reportedly became legally cynical and they employed the community social resources (like social ties and informal control) for both conventional and deviant ends, depending on the context they were in. Given this previous community culture, how did the Gawad Kalinga program introduce new cultural frames or new ways of thinking to the community? From the narratives, I was able to cull three sources of the new cultural scripts introduced to the residents. First, and as had been discussed in the first section of this chapter, the changes in community social structures independently affected the residents’ way of thinking. As had been noted, the observed changes on community culture as a result of changes in the community structural conditions were consistent with the expectations of the western theoretical model. The second source of new cultural frames was the direct intervention of the Gawad Kalinga. Programs like regular community meetings, spiritual, educational and livelihood seminars, where Gawad Kalinga staff and volunteers continually articulated the Gawad Kalinga way of life, independently affected the residents’ way of thinking. Third, the manner in which the Kapitbahayan leadership dealt with the day-to-day situations of the residents also impacted the community culture. The Kapitbahayan leadership played a key role in sustaining the cultural frames introduced by the changes in community social structures and the interventions of the 139 Gawad Kalinga staff and volunteers. Indeed, after the Kapitbahayan leaders had been transformed, they became an independent force that sustained the cultural change in the community. This section describes the different manifestation of this cultural change. Sense of Responsibility. One of the major themes that characterized the Gawad Kalinga community was the residents’ new sense of responsibility. This was a theme that was shared by most participants. Residents developed a feeling that they need to be “good caretakers of the blessings” that they were receiving. This supplanted the previous “code of survival” that once pervaded the community. One of the mechanisms in which a sense of responsibility was inculcated to the minds of the residents was through the provision of legal housing and employment. These structural changes imposed upon the residents the obligation to become responsible citizens of the community. Here is a narrative that captures the sentiment: Would you imagine, somebody finally listened to us. Through the Gawad Kalinga, the government finally saw us. The politicians finally visited us. Never did that happen before. And so now, we have our house and lots. So what do we have to do? We need to respond right? So we respond by working hard, by meeting our monthly obligations. Nakakahiya naman kung di naming gagawin ang obligasyon namin (It is a shame if we do not meet our obligations). Yes I admit, the amortization is an added burden. But that is way better than when we were squatters and jobless. I would gladly trade my obligation now than the previous set up. I have a house and employed. There is no reason for me not to pay my electric and water bills. Wala ng idadahilan sa paggawa ng kalokohan (No more excuses in doing illegal things) (Mang Dencio, 43 years old). This narrative from Mang Efren also underscores how structural change improved the cultural frame in the community: How long have we been in the Gawad Kalinga? It had been five years. We had been through a lot. And the longer it goes, we can see the benefits. Our belief becomes firmer that we did the right thing… the results can be seen, you see your own house… the children are playing in a cleaner place… those used to be only a dream for us… that is why, my wife and I, we joined all the community activities: preparing food for the construction workers, cleaning the streets, paying the mortgage and other dues. We need to join because no one else will. It is our duty, our obligation…because if we don’t 140 participate, who will participate? Who will do the cleaning? Who will watch over the children? We will just go back to our old squatter ways… We don’t want to go back to that… Where the environment was in disorder and the mind was cluttered (Mang Efren, 54 years old). This sense of responsibility was also continually “pounded on the minds of the residents” (idinidikdik sa kaisipan). In community meetings, seminars and ordinary discussions, Gawad Kalinga staff and volunteers would continually remind residents of their obligations in the “new village.” This is the second mechanism of how new cultural scripts were introduced. In one of the community gatherings that I attended to, I was able to listen to the sharing of Gawad Kalinga Area Coordinator. Part of the message went this way: We are a new community now… We are village. We are no longer squatters… And comes with it is a responsibility… We are lucky because we have partners coming to us. And it is our duty to respond. We need to take care of our community... In this community, we are brothers and sisters now. Just like the community of the early Christians. We help each other. The success of one will be the success of everyone (Mr. Raul, 55 years old). After the speech, I asked two female teenagers what they thought about the message of the Area Coordinator. One of the teenagers responded this way: He was correct, Kuya Raymund. It is really our responsibility to keep our village clean. That is why, on our part, we organized ourselves in the Siga youth group. We conduct a cleanup of the streets every Saturday when we don’t go to school. We also volunteer in the Sibol school program to tutor the little kids. Also, we engage our fellow teenagers in creative activities like theaters and sports tournament. We join other Siga youth group from other Gawad Kalinga sites. That keeps our youth members busy. Now they don’t engage into tambay and drugs. They do not have a reason anymore to do that (Regina, 17 years old). The Kapitbahayan leaders, on their day-to-day dealings with their fellow residents, likewise propounded this sense of responsibility. The Kapitbahayan leaders made sure that residents met their obligations on a consistent basis, thus developing patterns of behavior. Through their consistent reminder, residents developed their sense of responsibility. This is the 141 third mechanism in which new cultural frames were introduced to the residents. Here is a narrative from a female resident that captures this mechanism: In the beginning, I had a difficulty cleaning my front yard, joining the community meetings, and paying the contributions. Sometimes I forgot, sometimes I felt like I don’t want to do it. Tinatamad (Plain laziness). Hayan, miting na naman! (There, another meeting is called!). But here comes the Sec and the Vice and the Auditor all calling on me. They would sometimes call my name in the plaza meeting and so people will come to my place asking why I was absent. Nakakahiya (What a shame). And so I would go and do my duties and obligations… Good thing they were patient with me. Now, eventually, I developed the habit. And I see the effects. I realized, indeed, there some benefits in clean surroundings. And I am on time in all my payments. I now embrace my responsibilities. I am Gawad Kalinga villager now (Aling Hiling, 38 years old). This sense of responsibility affected how residents made use of their community social resources for the benefit of everyone. For example, residents used this cultural frame to maximize the benefits of the social ties among residents. Recall that previously, social ties among residents can be a hindrance in correcting misbehaviors. A statement from Mang Leno captures how social ties had been utilized for conventional ends: There was this resident, he had been awarded a house. He was Simon’s nephew. He started operating a computer shop. At first it was okay with us because it was a way of generating income. But then we learned lately that he had been letting kids play in the video games even during school hours. Parents were complaining that kids no longer go to school because they hangout (tambay) in his business. So I went to Simon. We as a community are responsible for our kids. I relayed to him the complaints of the residents. It is better for Simon to deal with him because they are family relatives. So Simon talked to him. Simon persuaded him not to open his business to kids during school hours (Leno, 47 years old) In this statement, Mang Simon made use of his family ties to correct misbehavior. Mang Simon did not condone his relative’s harmful activities as a manifestation of his sense of responsibility to the community. Sense of Empowerment. Another cultural frame that emerged from my analysis of the narratives is the sense of empowerment that the residents experienced. This theme is likewise evident in the narratives of most research participants. Accordingly, the sense of dignity given 142 by the opportunity to work and the confidence that “they can do something” made the residents feel empowered. This was in contrast to the “sense of powerlessness” that once pervaded the community. Here is a narrative by former youth tambays who participated in the house-built. This narrative depicts how structural changes translated into a community’s sense of empowerment: Would you imagine Kuya Raymund, we never thought that we could build all these houses and this multipurpose hall. Galing ito sa wala (These came from nothing). From scratch… and now, it is standing, all four storeys. That is a huge thing. I will be proud father to my children. And I can tell them, “Your father is not a tambay. You have the dignity to say that you actually did something. Kasama ka sa pagbabago (You were part of a transformation). If we can do this now, we can do this again. We can do anything! (Ronnie, 19 years old). Additionally, the Gawad Kalinga staff and volunteers also reinforced this cultural frame to the residents. The Gawad Kalinga creatively created slogans like: Kaya natin ito (We can do it), Walang iwanan (no one left behind), and Tataya ka ba? (Are you going to make a stand?) that implored residents to take action and not to be mere recipients of dole-outs. Gawad Kalinga delivered these messages through stickers, t-shirts, and pamphlets that carried the slogans. The Gawad Kalinga program also mobilized volunteers to join in the sweat equity with the residents as an actualization of these slogans. A resident who was a former drug dealer and very skeptical with Gawad Kalinga program in the beginning has this to say: “Kaya natin ito, walang iwanan, tataya ka ba.” Those phrases were always repeated... during meetings, during masses, during the gatherings. Even in simple get-togethers… At first, no one paid attention to those phrases. To me, those phrases meant nothing. They were insignificant to me ... But when I saw the volunteers actually work, like the President of our sponsoring corporation, sweating profusely during the house-built... He truly volunteered his time and energy for us. I felt inspired! Wow, they (Gawad Kalinga) actually meant what they say! And my fellow residents saw this and they followed suit. I myself followed suit… Until everyone started believing… We are here together, we can do it, we are going to make a stand… no one left behind. And then again: We are here together, we can do it, we are going to make a stand… no one left behind… I joined many house-build ever since and I sincerely believe we can make a difference (Mang Sendong, 44 years old). 143 The Kapitbahayan leadership also made sure that residents believed that they were empowered. It was the Kapitbahayan leadership that continually reminded the residents that while the Gawad Kalinga was there to support them, it was the residents themselves who will be instrumental in sustaining the program. Here is a statement from an informal conversation with a resident: The time will come that the Gawad Kalinga will no longer be with us. Probably, when the houses are all constructed, they will be gone. Even now, they no longer come as often as it used to be. So I know, they will soon be gone. It is up to us. As they always mentioned in the Kapitbahayan meeting, it is up to us if we want to continue our set up or go back to our old ways. People sometimes slack in their responsibilities. Some residents who already got a house sometimes do not join the house-build. But the Kapitbahayan reminds them. All of us remind them. We remind each other. We must work together as we used to be. Walang iwanan (No one left behind). Those who had a house should not leave those who have not yet a house. We did it together before, we can always to do it again, together (Mang Orlando, 33 years old). This sense of empowerment also redirected the use of the community social resources for conventional purposes. For example, residents felt that they were empowered to protect their community from the activities of drug dealers. They then use their family connections to call the attention of the drug dealers who used their community as a place to commit illegal businesses. Here is statement by Mang June, the former professional squatter and employed in the silkscreen business that captures this theme: Because of the widening of the road, we realized that residents from other slum areas pass by our area more often. While we do not discourage that so that other squatter residents can see the changes in our community, we noticed that drug dealers also used our streets to buy and sell with residents in our neighbor slum communities. So we identified all those (drug dealers) and determined if we have fellow residents who were related to those drug dealers. And then we asked our residents to talk to their relatives not to use our streets for that purposes. Most agreed. I think we just had one drug dealer left remaining. Our Kapitbahayan will deal with that one remaining (Mang June, 38 years old). 144 From this narrative, residents made use of their closeness to family members as a mechanism to call their attention. With residents empowered, they made use of their traditional social ties as a mechanism for corrective action. Trust in The System. Another cultural frame that emerged was the notion that residents regained trust and confidence in their community and society. Accordingly, residents felt that “something good finally came in their life” and that "they were not neglected after all." Resident reportedly felt being treated fairly, that their complaints were heard, and that they can seek justice if they had been wronged. Additionally, they reportedly felt less need to take matters in their own hands. Accordingly, this cultural frame stood in contrast to the cynicism that once pervaded the community. Again, the structural changes in the community, the direct intervention of Gawad Kalinga and the day-to-day dealings of the Kapitbahayan fostered this new cultural script. Here is a narrative that demonstrates how the structural improvements in the community fostered trust in the system: My thinking now is different. Now, I have a house to be proud off. No one can take this away from me. I can have it inherited to my children and their children… We live with more dignity now. In fact, we are considered “village” people by other slum residents. Government, finally, was on our side… And the government, finally, paid attention to our needs. The government can be made to work, after all. Society eventually heard us. (Mang Doming, 38 years old). In this narrative, the involvement of the government in the lives of the residents translated into feelings of trust. After years of neglect and being treated like “feces,” residents felt the government finally cared. The Gawad Kalinga staff and volunteers also promoted trust and confidence to the system. This cultural frame was introduced in seminars, trainings, and community meetings and couched in terms of tiwala sa lipunan (trust in the society) and matuwid na pamumuhay (upright 145 living). For example, I was able to observe a play produced by the Siga youth group that extolled the life of the national hero Jose Rizal. In this play, the theme of trusting the government was repeatedly conveyed. In a household prayer meeting that I also attended, residents discussed their roles as “dutiful citizens of the world.” Additionally, community leaflets and Gawad Kalinga websites were also replete with stories demonstrating the life of a "transformed citizen" of Gawad Kalinga. Here is a narrative that demonstrated how residents imbibed this cultural frame in guiding their behaviors. Recall that this resident previously admitted that they were not shy in using violence when necessary. It used to be, when there were fights here, you take matters in your own hand. You cannot trust the police because it will take a long time before they take action. You can go to the Barangay or to the Homeowners Association but only if you knew someone inside. Palakasan doon (They played favorites there). If none, don’t waste your time with them. So you are left with one option: deal the problem by your own self. But now, I had been hesitant. I had been told that we should follow the law. If I have some conflicts to resolve, I seek the help of other residents. I don’t employ violence anymore (Mang June 38 years old). The feeling of trust to the system was also reinforced by how the Kapitbahayan leadership implemented the rules of the community. As mentioned in the previous section, residents reportedly felt that procedures of disciplining had been fairer. This was in stark contrast to the favoritism that they once exercised. Here are narratives of residents who experienced fair treatment from the Kapitbahayan: You see, I am waiter. That means my job comes and goes. There are months that I am called by the placement agency multiple times, but there are months that I am not called at all. During those months, I cannot pay my monthly mortgage… so I explain it to the treasurer and Pres. And they understand. They don’t penalize me. They don’t call my name in public during meetings, which is shameful by the way. They do that because once I have money, I pay my back dues all together. So currently, I am straight. I am up to date with my payments... I like the way they are treating the residents. It is indeed a new community. Unlike before, if you cannot pay your water bills on time, even if it was illegally connected, they will just cut you without even being informed… So now, there is a process. A fair process…(Mang Edgar, 41 years old). 146 Yes, they (Kapitbahayan officers) were pretty reasonable… I knew my husband is a drug user. I had been imploring him to stop using but he is hard headed. Before, he can do what he pleases but not now. Kapitbahayan officers do not tolerate drug use. And so the leaders came to us and warned us. If he won’t stop his drug use, they will be forced to do something… They told him not to show up in the community for a week. He was sort of banished. He stayed with a relative… It was hard because I was left taking care of the 6 kids. So I begged the leaders to let him back after a week. They relented… I understand the Kapitbahayan leaders’ actions. At least, my husband straightened out (Aling Miding, 45 years old). Yes, the process of assigning lots and the sizes had been fair. We were all informed about the process. In fact, it was done by drawing lots so it was completely random… We cannot choose. Also the lot size determination is fair. You receive an A if you had been an owner before and you had concrete house before. That recognizes your previous condition. Those receiving AB are either sharers or those newly-arrived with smaller lots like me. I do not complain even if I had been given an AB house. Anyway, my house became bigger because it has a second floor. Unlike before, it is only one floor (Aling Petra, 47 years old). These three narratives demonstrate the fairness of procedures that had been employed by the Kapitbahayan in implementing rules and resolving conflicts among the residents. Even if the outcomes were not favorable to them, they still accepted the decision because the process had been clear. There were no shrewdness and machinations (gapangan at gulangan) that were once employed in the prior community setup. Accordingly, this sense of procedural justice (Tyler, 2003) translated to more trust and confidence to the Kapitbahayan leaders, Gawad Kalinga program, and the society in general. Cognitive Landscapes. Taken together these new cultural frames introduced to the residents were in stark contrast to the code of survival, sense of powerlessness, and legal cynicism that once engulfed the community. With the provision of legal housing and employment, residents reported that they no longer had to compete against each other for resources. The direct interventions of the Gawad Kalinga program and the leadership of the Kapitbahayan also inculcated a sense of responsibility, empowerment, and trust to the 147 government and social institutions among the residents. The result of the community survey also showed that the average rating of the Gawad Kalinga residents on the legal cynicism scale was considerably higher than the average rating of the nearby slum community (Gawad Kalinga mean score is 24.9 (N=20) and the slum community is 18.9 (N=10); t= -4.3; p<.05). In return, the cognitive landscapes of the residents were altered. Residents were no longer fearful of going to territories belonging to faction enemies. The symbolic demarcations that once territorially and socially divided the community disappeared. Here are statements that reflect this theme: It used to be difficult to go to different parts of this community. It felt like there was a line before that if you cross that line, you were in trouble. Gawad Kalinga changed all that. Now we can roam freely in this community. We let our kids play everywhere now (Mang Pido, 44 years old). Because factions no longer exist, we are united now. In all activities we are united. We no longer fear secret reprisals. Unlike before, even if your intention was good, if you step on someone’s toe, they will get back at you. Now, we don’t have to fear expressing our thoughts because they will respect us (Mang Andres, 35 years old). D. Summary In summary, the improvements in the structural conditions of the community through the provision of legal housing and alleviation of poverty translated into improved community social processes and the introduction of new cultural frames that reduced legal cynicism. Specifically, the provision of legal housing increased the stake of the residents to safeguard the commonwealth of the community (Sampson et al., 1997). The provision of employment led to the reduction of idle time and hangout activities among youths and male adults (Wilson, 1996). All these narratives are consistent to the claims of the western theoretical models. The improvement in the social processes and community culture were further enhanced and sustained through the direct interventions of the Gawad Kalinga staff and volunteers and 148 through the leadership of the Kapitbahayan. These findings highlight the role of communitybased organizations and indigenous community leaders in directly affecting the social processes and cultural scripts in a community. Based on resident narratives, the strong social ties that existed prior to Gawad Kalinga, which had been used to advance criminal or deviant goals, had been redirected towards more conventional ends. With the lessening of factionalism and favoritism, and the increase in trust of the system, residents reportedly adhered to more conventional cultural scripts. The new cultural frames that were introduced became a basis for the use of the community social processes towards conventional behaviors. Note however that the narratives highlighted were the more dominant voices in the community. The dominant voices were the recurrent narratives that had been shared and concurred upon by most residents. However, the analyses also yielded the presence of minority voices, which did not conform to the overall voice of the majority. There were residents who expressed themes that contradicted the majority view due to their peculiar conditions. These included the rekals and some of the pending residents, which will be the topic of the next chapter. 149 CHAPTER 8 EXPLANATIONS FOR CONTINUING DEVIANT BEHAVIORS Most of the research participants reported that the Gawad Kalinga program had beneficially transformed the community. The narratives presented in the preceding chapter indicated that residents felt that the community became more peaceful, livable, less crime prone, and less violent compared to their previous slum conditions. The community leaders, the adult male and female participants, and the youth participants repeatedly shared this overall essence of the experience. Gawad Kalinga staff and volunteers like Raul and Eduardo who witnessed the transformation of the community also made similar comments. Residents from the nearby slum area also conceded that there had been marked improvements in the Gawad Kalinga community. In my two-month immersion, I also observed the visible differences in physical and social appearances between the Gawad Kalinga community and the nearby slum community. However, despite this majority view, I encountered a number of residents who aired a different view of the overall experience. While the residents had a common understanding of the mechanics of the Gawad Kalinga program, a number of residents nonetheless reported that they experienced the Gawad Kalinga program in a different way. As such, despite the purported success of the Gawad Kalinga program, some residents in the community reported the presence of continuing deviant behaviors. In this chapter, explanation as to why some residents engaged in continuing deviant behaviors is explored. An explication of this minority view is necessary in order to provide a holistic understanding of the phenomenon. Most of the narratives presented in this chapter are culled from in-depth and informal interviews, and from field observations. Most of the narratives are critical of the Gawad Kalinga program. Community documents are utilized to 150 verify the truthfulness of the claims of the research participants. Though many of the claims raised are not congruent with the available documents, these narratives are presented as it reflected the truth that these residents believed in. As will be shown, these claims are manifestations of a cultural script that guided their behaviors. The western theoretical model suggests that the three aspects of the community (social structures, social processes, and culture) should be examined simultaneously to effect meaningful community change (Kubrin & Weitzer, 2003a). The model also suggests that failure to address one aspect may negate the gains in other aspects. Utilizing this framework, I investigated the consequences to the community when at least one of the components is missing. Specifically, the experiences of the rekals demonstrated the consequences when the residents rejected the new social structures, social processes, and community culture introduced by the Gawad Kalinga program. The experiences of the pendings, whose houses were yet to be constructed, on the other hand, demonstrated the consequences when one component is absent (the structural component) despite successful integration in the community social processes and community culture. The Rekals and the Pendings As previously mentioned in the site description section, the Gawad Kalinga community had encountered continuing problems posed by the rekals. Recall that fourteen (14) housing units (around 140 residents) of the community did not participate in the Gawad Kalinga program. Aling Sening, who used to be auditor of the Home Owners Association (HOA), headed this group. Most of the rekals’ objections initially revolved in their unwillingness to let go of the bigger spaces they used to occupy in the previous squatter set up. The rekals also admitted that they never believed in the promises of the Gawad Kalinga that they could actually own a house. 151 Additionally, their opposition to the Gawad Kalinga program centered on their distrust with Simon, the Kapitbahayan leader, whom they perceived to be an unreformed maton (bully). They held the belief that Simon was simply using the Gawad Kalinga program as “another platform to rule the residents.” Despite the mediation by the Gawad Kalinga staff and volunteers and the continuing offers of the Kapitbahayan officers that they join the program, the rekals remained steadfast in their opposition. The rekals constituted a sizeable block in the community. They actively congregated and discussed among themselves and they consciously projected an image that they were a cohesive group. They were also aware of their status as rekals from the point of view of Gawad Kalinga residents. The rekals also waged a legal court battle against the Kapitbahayan officers to assert their right to remain in the area. This legal battle was also a source of unity among the rekals. In the informal discussions I had with their members, the narratives usually revolved on their legal strategies in the court and the sentiments of opposition to the Gawad Kalinga program. The shanty units of the rekals were located in key areas of the community and their presence hampered the reblocking of other areas. As such, the construction of the housing units for the other Gawad Kalinga residents had been slowed down. As previously noted, 5 years into the Gawad Kalinga program, 42 of the 101 housing units were still to be constructed. (An additional four housing units were under construction during the period of data collection). Due to delays in the housing construction, around 450 residents were still housed in shanties and they were known in the community as the “pending” residents. Though their housing units were not yet constructed, the pendings could avail of the other components of the Gawad Kalinga program. That is, they could join in the community-based livelihood programs, they could work as surrogates in the house-build to earn additional income, and they could 152 participate in educational and value-formation programs. Even if their houses were not yet awarded, however, the “pending” residents had to pay monthly amortizations and weekly dues, send family representatives to the house-build (or pay their surrogates), and abide to the rules of the community. The Lived Experiences of the Rekals. The following narrative by Aling Sening, the acknowledged leader among the rekals, provides a brief summary of their opposition to the Gawad Kalinga program: The difference between our life before and now was this: before, the people who wanted us evicted were outsiders, the landowners. Now, the people who wanted us evicted are insiders, our neighbors. That is the only difference. We still have our lives before. We still do the same things that we do. We are free to do things as we pleased. We don’t have to listen to any propaganda. No one is dictating us (Aling Sening, 63 years old). From this narrative, the rekals contrasted their experience from the Gawad Kalinga residents by highlighting their “freedom in doing things.” Accordingly, the “freedom to do things” was one of the major advantages of not joining the program. They preferred their squatter status than “be restricted by the numerous rules” of the Gawad Kalinga. The unemployed 34-year old son of Aling Sening echoed this statement: There are so many prohibitions they imposed on the residents. They cannot gamble, they cannot drink, the males cannot go out of their houses with clothes off, they cannot dry their clothes on the street. And whatever other new rules they have. Those residents have become uto-uto (blind followers). They are not even allowed to let relatives stay in their houses anymore. Yes, they have better houses. But what do you do with a house if you follow so many rules. Kalokohan (Nonsense)(Mang Nick, 34 years old). This statement by Mang Nick was shared by the three others rekals who were present during our conversations. While they conceded that Gawad Kalinga residents had better housing units, especially those who had been constructed, they laughed in unison when Mang Nick characterized the Gawad Kalinga residents as “uto-uto” (blind followers). They were pretty confident of the belief that Gawad Kalinga residents could no longer allow their relatives stay in 153 their houses. When I volunteered the information that the Gawad Kalinga residents could still allow relatives to stay as long as the Kapitbahayan officers were informed (based on my personal observations and notes from the community meetings), they dismissed it as “a new rule to bend an old rule.” Pinapaikot lang nila ang isip ng mga tao (They are just playing mind games to the people). The earlier narrative by Aling Sening also captures a common view shared by the rekals: that the cultural change introduced by Gawad Kalinga, which the Gawad Kalinga staff and volunteers referred to as “the Gawad Kalinga way,” was a mere “propaganda.” The rekals scoffed at the residents who believed in this “propaganda.” Mang Dado, a former minion of Simon in the cockfighting business who joined the rekals, shared this sentiment: They said that the Gawad Kalinga is new way of life. But look at them. They have so many obligations. They pay their amortization, they pay weekly dues, and they pay their electricity and water. Why do they have to do that? Keso, bayani daw sila (They think of themselves as heroes). Di bale nang hindi ako bayani, hindi ko naman pinahihirapan ang aking sarili (I don’t mind not being a hero, as long as I don’t punish myself). And so let them be heroes. That is good for me. Now, I manage the cockfighting all by myself. No more competitions. (Mang Dado, 45 years old). The rekals were unanimous in their rejection of the new cultural script introduced by the Gawad Kalinga. They viewed the Gawad Kalinga as an intruder to their community life. Nanghihimasok sa buhay ng mga maralita (Unwanted guests to the lives of the poor). In fact, the effort of the Kapitbahayan officers to ask the court to mediate their conflict was seen as a ploy to evict them from the community, which made the rekals even more cynical. Here is a statement from Aling Lorena, a staunch oppositionist: They are human rights violators. The Kapitbahayan, especially Simon, they are human rights violators. See, they wanted me evicted from here. Akala mo kung sino (They are very pretentious). They seem to forget that they were squatters once. Now, they think that they are landowners. Why, we have a right to stay here. Why will they force us to join them, if we don’t like their rules? They are dictators (Aling Lorena, 44 years old). 154 This collective “feeling of injustice suffered from the Kapitbahayan” provided the rekals a basis for unity that justified their opposition to the Gawad Kalinga program. They viewed the efforts of the Kapitbahayan to request the local courts to resolve their differences as similar mechanisms used by the original landlords against them. The old cultural script where residents viewed the community social dynamics in terms of gapangan and gulangan (shrewdness and machinations) characterized their way of thinking to the Gawad Kalinga program. Here is a narrative that captures this view: Huwag kang magpapaniwala riyan kay Simon at Leno (Don’t believe on everything that Simon and Leno say). Those two are the most tuso (deceitful) people in the community. They are just using the Gawad Kalinga to generate resources. The Gawad Kalinga use them and they use the Gawad Kalinga. Look at them, all their relatives have houses already. They prioritized their own family members and their kababayan (same ethnolinguistic group). And look at the other residents. They forced them to work in their socalled house-build. Those pitiful people, they are working for other peoples’ houses with the belief that they have their houses soon. But in fact, they won’t. They are just being used (Mang Caloy, 54 years old). Using community documents, I verified this claim and learned that many of Simon’s and Leno’s relatives were still not awarded their homes. However, when I volunteered this information, the rekals simply dismissed it as, “you have to dig deeper.” The rekals were truly sold to the idea that the old dynamics of patron-client relationship still dominated the Gawad Kalinga community. Here is statement that portrays this theme: Tingnam mo nga aber (Look at it closely). Whom do they award the houses, who get the resources when there are food and medical missions, who avail of the livelihood programs, look at it more closely, and you will find that it is mostly relatives of the leaders. Especially Simon and Leno. They are still the same. That was the same style they used before during our HOA days. I knew it because I was a part of it. Wala silang maitatago sa akin (They cannot hide anything from me). It is still the same style now (Aling Sening, 63 years old). With the rejection of the Gawad Kalinga program, and coupled by the inherent difficulties of the squatter life, the rekals employed the same legally cynical frame they were 155 accustomed with. Having the same cynical culture, the rekals saw nothing wrong in joining Gawad Kalinga activities if it was to their advantage but reject the activities as soon as it did not fit their interests. They employed the same code-switching strategies (Anderson, 1999) to navigate their day-to-day affairs. For example, I observed that rekals also attended the medical missions organized by the Gawad Kalinga volunteers for the community residents. In explaining her presence, she gave this narrative: Why would not I attend the medical mission? They are handing out free medicines. They used our community to solicit money for those. So they used me. I am still a resident of this community. So I am entitled to those medicines. Sila lang ba ang anak ng Diyos (Are they the only children of God?) (Aling Flor, 28 years old). In this narrative, Aling Flor admitted that by joining the medical mission, she maximized the benefits (pakinabang) that she could get from the Gawad Kalinga program. However, when she was called for a meeting to address the shortage of electric bulbs needed to illuminate the darker corners of the community, she would not show up. She and other rekals would dismiss those activities as “waste of their time.” From the perspective of the Gawad Kalinga staff and volunteers and the Kapitbahayan officers, allowing the rekals to join their activities was a way to introduce them to the Gawad Kalinga way of “walang iwanan” (no one left behind). They thought that by continually inviting the rekals and by offering them their services, the rekals would eventually “change heart and join the program.” The rekals, on the other hand, viewed these gestures as opportunities to get what they "rightfully” deserved. Having a cynical cultural frame, rekal residents interpreted the gestures of the Gawad Kalinga and Kapitbahayan officers as simple tokens that had to be taken advantage off. The rekals employed the same code-switching mindsets in surviving the challenges of a disadvantaged community. Here is a narrative that reiterated this theme: 156 Yes, I let my daughter join the Sibol. Sayang din yung ipinamimigay nilang libreng notebook at bag (I have to take advantage of the free notebooks and bags). But I don’t attend the parent meetings where they ask me to prepare food for the teachers and the children. That is nonsense. I heard that they were able to solicit a lot of money for this purpose, why do they still have to ask parents to cook food? (Aling Flor, 28 years old). As such, the continuing cynicism among the rekals justified their engagement in previous slum practices. For example, Mang Dado, solidified his cockfighting business when Mang Simon and other Gawad Kalinga residents were no longer interested. Though he could not conduct cockfighting in front of his front yard the way he used to due to the prohibitions of Kapitbahayan, he was able to hold cockfights in the nearby slum communities that he and Simon used to control. In his words: I won’t speak ill of Pareng Simon. We had been friends for years. I understand what he is doing. He got a new racket. In fact, he invited me to join him in Gawad Kalinga. But I did not. That is his new racket; I stick with our old racket. Kanya kanyang diskarte (To each is his own approach). He makes a living through Gawad Kalinga, I make a living through gambling. As long as it is not held here. It is okay with him. (Mang Dado, 45 years old). Mang Nick, who took over the bingo, tong-its and other card games, raised similar notions. Mang Nick felt justified in organizing gambling games in his area as his “contribution” to the Gawad Kalinga community. His explanations ran this way: The Kapitbahayan should even thank me. You know why? Because, by having our gambling here, they can show to outsiders how the residents “used to live before.” And so they will use our gambling practices as a way to generate resources. When their (Gawad Kalinga) volunteers come to observe our community, they would say, ‘look, those are rekals, they don’t believe in us. They gamble a lot. That is the way we used to live. So please support us so that we won’t go back to that old ways.’ See, they used us as a front to solicit money. And so they should thank me because I gave them the props (Mang Nick, 34 years old). The absence of structural change (in terms of housing), the rejection of the social processes (control and supervision of the Kapitbahayan) and the dismissal of the new cultural scripts (the Gawad Kalinga way) kept the rekals to their previous conditions. Despite efforts by 157 the Gawad Kalinga residents to include them in their day-to-day cleanup, to provide lighting during the night, and to extend electric and water connections, the area of the community populated by the rekals was visibly slum-looking. Their appearance resembled the nearby slum area, and for first time visitors, they would think that the rekals were part of the nearby slum community, instead of the Gawad Kalinga community. In my field notes, I registered many instances of little children roaming around the streets without clothes, as the rekal parents were busy gambling. There were many instances of noisy drinking sessions that characterized their evening activities. They regularly engaged in loud videoke and sang to their hearts content. I also observed that the nooks and alleys within their areas were a magnet for youth tambays from the nearby slum community. While the rekals admitted that drug activity had lessened a bit in their area “because the blind followers of Gawad Kalinga were prohibiting it,” they said that they simply went to the nearby slum area to have their jamming (drug use). From the perspective of the rekals, they were the “true residents” of the community because they were “just being true to themselves” (Nagpapakatotoo lang kami sa aming sarili). For the rekals, a noisy community bustling with different activities was what made them “a real community.” The Gawad Kalinga residents, especially the Kapitbahayan officers, were aware of the opposition of the rekals. They treated the rekals as residents “who have not yet seen the light who cling to the old beliefs.” They knew that many of the chismis (gossips) entertained by the rekals were misinformation the rekals themselves created. The Kapitbahayan officers therefore asked the other residents to be patient in dealing with the rekals and to refrain from responding to their taunts. Mang Simon, in particular, admitted that his greatest challenge as a leader was how to convince the rekals to join them in the Gawad Kalinga program: I admit that I am a huge reason why they continue to reject the Gawad Kalinga program. I even offered to step down from being a president just so we can convince them. But 158 still they did not accept it. But I will move on. Someday, they will realize that I tried to reach out to them. I just hope they will realize that it was all for us. It had been five years but still they cannot see that I changed ways (Mang Simon, 59 years old). Despite the problems posed by the rekals, the Kapitbahayan were relentless in persuading the rekals to one day join them. Accordingly, should the rekals change minds and decide to join the program, they could build 4 storey-condominium type housing to accommodate the 14 households. The residents were encouraged to treat them as friends. For example, Mang Efren narrated this case of a rekal family: There is a rekal who sells shabu (methamphetamine). He is in cahoots with a police officer, who lives in the nearby slum area. The rekal gets in and out of jail. His wife is a shoplifter. They have kids. One of their kids is taken cared of by a Gawad Kalinga resident (Mang Efren, 54 years old). For the Gawad Kalinga staff and the Kapitbahayan officers, the rekals were not much of a problem because “there were just a few of them.” They did not mind the rekals as long as the rekals confined their activities among themselves. However, the rekals become a concern when they extend their cultural scripts to the pending residents. The Lived Experiences of the Pendings. As described in the previous chapter, most of the pendings were very supportive of the Gawad Kalinga program. This was especially true for pendings who had been employed through the different mechanisms of the Gawad Kalinga program. For these residents, being employed alleviated the difficulties associated with the “responsibilities of a homeowner.” However, there were a number of pending residents who were unemployed or had irregular employment. It was from this group of residents that discrepant experiences were heard. A statement by Aling Myda, a mother of three, captures the sentiments among the pending residents: 159 Look, we had been a staunch supporter of the Gawad Kalinga. We actively participated in the all the meetings and my husband had joined all the house-build. Wala kaming palya (We did not miss any (obligation). We paid all the mortgages and community dues on time… We were even the first to let our shanty demolished so the new houses can be built. We did that because we believed in this program… And for a time, we enjoyed it. We liked it. We were proud of it… But then, see, after five long years and we still don’t have a house… We live in this temporary shelter that was even worse than what we had before. (Sobbing) And we had to pay the mortgage…yet we do not have a house? It does not sound right, does it? What I know is, if you are paying a mortgage, you should be in a house, right? … At the beginning, it was okay. We told ourselves, this was the share we had to do to improve the community… but in the long run… Pakiramdam namin nagagamit lang kami (We felt we are being used)… We had to eventually feed our children. We needed to find some other means to generate money… that is why, I went back to be a collector of jueteng. I cannot do otherwise… ganun talaga ang buhay (it is what life is) (Aling Myda, 38 years old). This statement by Aling Myda demonstrates the challenges faced by the pending residents: the scenario in which new social processes and new cultural scripts had been successfully introduced but the structural conditions were not put in place. For her and some of the pending residents, sustaining a deviant-free lifestyle was difficult without changing the structural condition of poverty. She admitted to reverting back to illegal gambling (jueteng collector) as a means to augment her income. Here are additional statements from pending residents that concur with this view: It is quite difficult to join all the activities… Because, ever since we became a Gawad Kalinga member, we now paid mortgage, water and electric bills. Yes, sometimes, I do have a job… part time driver. And when I have income, then I settle my back accounts. But what if there is none… will they force me? I need to prioritize bringing food for my children. How can I join the house-build if I have to work? I cannot pay a surrogate (Mang Danilo, 38 years old). Naloko kami eh (We were tricked). If I had only known that this would be the outcome, I should have never joined the Gawad Kalinga. Yes, the objectives are good. It is cleaner, more peaceful. But the obligations are daunting. Mabigat sa bulsa (It is heavy on the pocket). It would have been okay if I still allowed to rent rooms. But they also prohibited that. They also prohibited illegal water tapping, which I used to supply. So where do you get all those money to pay your obligations as a Gawad Kalinga member? (Mang Warren, 42 years old). 160 Other pending residents also reported that due to the requirement of different payments, they need to work hard. They prioritized the payment over their other obligations and duties in the community. Their absence in these activities lessened their exposure to the collective guardianship of the community (Bursik & Grasmick, 1993). The cultural frames that had been introduced through seminars and community meetings were therefore attenuated and not sustained which eventually freed them into committing deviant activities (Kornhauser, 1978). Here is a narrative that captures this theme: When we no longer attended prayer meetings, when we no longer had time for seminars… we went back to our old ways.... drinking in the public, gossiping, probably those habits will never die… because, right now, no one is reminding... Unlike before, if you attend a prayer-meeting or a seminar, and then you go on drinking in the streets, it doesn’t feel right… you feel guilty… And so those habits stopped. You don’t want to embarrass yourself to your neighbors. But now, I am just too busy working because of the next collections is nearing. They don’t mind what I do as long as I am on time with all my payments (Mang Warren, 42 year old). For some of the pending residents, “the absence of the housing component but with attendant obligations” was the gateway that reintroduced the old cultural script. It raised issues on the fairness of the awarding of houses. This feeling of procedural injustice (Tyler, 2003) rekindled old flames of cynicism that eventually justified deviant behavior. Here is a statement by Aling Teresa, a 35 year old: How did they choose whom to award the houses ... They say, by drawing lots, they said everybody had a fair chance of being selected. But they only said that… the truth of the matter is, they (the leaders) had chosen among their kin. Look at them, all the siblings of the leaders had already been awarded a house. Even the daughter who is unmarried, she was already awarded a house. She (the daughter) is all alone by herself… and she already had a (housing) unit? Unbelievable! She could have lived with her mother and father first, who by the way had already been awarded a (housing) unit. Whereas, in my case, I had three children. My house had already been demolished to pave way for the construction of the houses, but yet I was not awarded a house. I was not a priority. That is why, we are here… We are in this temporary makeshift shanty. And yet we also pay the mortgage. Double. Where will I get the money to pay all these obligations? I need to survive, I need to feed my family…Yes, I want to follow the rules… I really want to 161 follow the right thing…God forgive me. But my starving family is my concern ... If they (the Kapitbahayan) cared for me, if they were mindful of my conditions, they would have given me priority. But no, they didn’t. I should not have been back to shoplifting. I was told that I was just a renter before… I did not have the right similar to theirs. Is that right? I am not sure…(Aling Teresa, 35 years old). In this statement, Aling Teresa raised many accusations against the Kapitbahayan leaders. The daughter she referred to was Simon’s. Aling Teresa was correct in claiming that the Simon’s daughter was awarded a house but apparently, this was a result of “pure luck.” The daughter also had three children and the two other adult sons of Simon were all pendings. Upon verification of the community documents, the claims of Aling Teresa that she had been discriminated due to her former status as a renter was also not supported. The document showed that some former renters had been awarded a house and some owners were also still pendings, all due to random selection. When I volunteered this information to Aling Teresa, she dismissed it. She said that as long as she does not have the house, her mind would not change. Defiantly, she used this as a justification of her re-involvement with a rekal in shoplifting activities. The legal cynicism generated by the feelings of injustice (Sampson & Jeglum-Bartusch, 1998) led some residents to make use of the pitiable situation to their advantage. Through gapangan at gulangan (shrewdness and machinations), they would use the vertical ties fostered by the Gawad Kalinga to generate resources. A resident, who got tired of “being nice” reported this practice: I became expert in solicitations. When Gawad Kalinga visitors came, I make a little drama: share them how difficult life is, show that the floors have not been constructed, or that I need money for tuition of the kids. I share them personal stories and hint that their support is what is keeping us afloat. The more dramatic, the better. Until you see the tears in their eyes…Later in their visit, they hand me money... They will say it is for me to buy food or to pay tuition of the kids. They even do it secretly so other residents won’t see it (smiles). But then, those money will simply be used for gambling or drinking. They are using us so we just use them (Aling Nenita, 33 years old). 162 Despite the best efforts of the Kapitbahayan officers to provide assistance to residents who faced difficulties in settling their obligations, some residents, especially the pendings, interpreted the process differently. A pending resident had this to say: I stopped paying the amortizations... I just can’t pay all the bills anymore... and they warned me that they will soon drop me off from the list of residents. They will expel me too. Alam ko bakit nila ako ginigipit (I know why they are edging me out)... they are eyeing my rights. They wanted me evicted and award my rights to somebody else (Mang Arthur, 44 years old). In this statement, Mang Arthur charged that he was not given the same leniency as the other residents. He felt that he been treated unfairly which, according to him, forced him to be defiant. Verifying from the Kapitbahayan’s schedule of amortization payments, however, documents showed that Mang Arthur had failed to meet the amortizations for the past 6 months, and he was in fact, been accorded a lenient treatment. When I inquired about his situation to the Kapitbahayan leaders, they explained that Mang Arthur was “indeed a good resident before” and it was only lately that he encountered difficulties. They gave him opportunities to pay the amortizations and to join the house-built. However, despite the repeated pleas, he did not show up and so the Kapitbahayan officers hinted that they might be forced to find another resident who would be willing to assume the amortizations. Upon learning about the Kapitbahayan officers’ intentions, Mang Arthur even became more adamant. To flaunt his opposition to the Kapitbahayan, he regularly joined the rekals in their drinking sessions, participated in their card games, and purposefully kept his front yard dirty. In the processes, through his solidarity with the rekals, his cynicism was further reinforced (Sutherland, 1934). Here are narratives I gathered in one of the drinking sessions of the rekals and some pending residents: Matagal ko nang sinasabi sa inyo, ginagamit lang kayo (I had been telling you a long time, you are just being used). See now, after asking you to pay your amortizations for a long time, after building their houses, they threaten you with evictions. Will they pay you back? I doubt it. They were just using you. And when you get evicted, they will 163 award your rights to the highest bidder. They will make money of it. You should have joined us earlier. Look at us here. We are happy here. We are free to do our things here. You (referring to Mang Arthur) you cannot even drink in the premises of your house. You are like a prisoner! The Gawad Kalinga, it just destroyed our friendship (Mang Nick, 34 years old). This narrative demonstrates how the cultural scripts peddled by the rekals (they are just using you) served to cast doubt to the minds of the pending residents. While there had been no cases in which the Gawad Kalinga staff and the Kapitbahayan officers transferred the housing rights of any of the 101 registered households to other Non-Gawad Kalinga residents, the fear that this will happen someday regularly floated in the conversations among pendings who had experienced difficulties paying their amortizations. Accordingly, it was reminiscent of the insecurity they experienced prior to the Gawad Kalinga program. The Kapitbahayan officers were aware of this situation and so they “tried as much as possible to extend support to these residents.” What they were afraid, however, was when the rekals would “poison” the minds of the pendings. Here is statement by Mang Leno in assessing the situation: Tinitimbang namin ng husto (We balance carefully). We wanted to help everyone. Lulubog at lilitaw kami ng sabay sabay dito (We will sink or swim together). And like what I said, we don’t mind what groups you were affiliated before. You be Ilokano or Bisaya. We support each other. But sometimes, we have to be strict as well. If we continually let them miss their amortizations and other responsibilities, there might come a time that no one will be paying and no one will be doing house-build anymore. So we needed to be strict. Our problem however is when the rekals try to demonize them (dinediminyo ang isip). They tell gossips which are not true. They put doubts to the minds of our members. So we continually hold meetings to quell their fears. But still, there were some residents who were influenced (Mang Leno, 47 years old). Indeed, verifying from the community records, of the 101 registered housing units, 5 had not paid their amortizations and had not participated in the house-build for the past 6 months or more. All of these residents were pendings. Some of these residents, like Mang Arthur, had openly defied the Kapitbahayan rules and regulations. They would openly miss cleaning their front yards, they engaged in public drinking, and joined the rekals in their gripe sessions against 164 the Gawad Kalinga program. For the Gawad Kalinga staff and Kapitbahayan officers, the growing disenchantment among the pendings was a major concern. They feared that these residents would instigate other residents against the Gawad Kalinga program. Mang Leno added: We understand their situation. Naiinip na sila. They are becoming restless. That is why we are giving them a lot of chance. We talk to their relatives and friends and kababayan (ethno-linguistic group) to support them. We bring them back to the fold of the community. We find ways to get them employed. Sometimes, I go to their front yard and I do the cleaning myself. Just to empathize with them. But we warn them, if we caught them dealing with drugs, that would be the last straw. We will evict them. That will be the end of their stay here. They should not use the delay in their houses as the reason for going back the old ways. First, it was not our fault why there are delays. In fact, it was the rekals who caused the delays and yet they now listen to the rekals. Second, there are pendings who are very supportive. Why can they not follow the examples of the other pendings? Nagpapasulsol lang sila sa mga rekal (They just believed the rekals) (Mang Leno, 47 years old). The growing disenchantment of the pendings demonstrates the predictive capability of the western theoretical model. When interventions that address the structural conditions of the community are absent, the improvements in community social processes and culture are difficult to sustain. When the structural changes are lacking, old cultural scripts resurface and serve as a counter-scripts to the new cultural scripts that had been introduced. Residents are then offered competing cultural frames which they use depending on the exigencies of their situations. Some of the pending residents code-switch translating to the persistence of deviant behaviors. While the Kapitbahayan had been successful in implementing the rules of the community, some of the pending residents would simply go to the nearby slum community to engage in behaviors unacceptable in the Gawad Kalinga community. 165 Chapter 9 SUMMARY AND DISCUSSION This dissertation sought to understand the experiences of residents in a slum area in Metro Manila, Philippines that underwent a community-level change using a theoretical framework that underscored the importance of community social structures, social processes, and cultural frames in explaining resident behaviors. Employing a phenomenological approach, this dissertation sought to understand residents’ lived experiences with the structural conditions of poverty, joblessness, land squatting, housing overcrowding, population heterogeneity, and residential instability. It sought to identify how the community social structures affected the social process mechanisms (Sampson et al., 1997) employed by the slum residents and the cultural frames (Kirk & Papachristos, 2011; Swidler, 1986) residents utilized as a justification for their behaviors. This dissertation also sought to understand the impact of the community’s partnership with the Gawad Kalinga, an NGO that introduced programs in the three key areas: social structures (employment, housing and community improvements, and legal land ownership); social processes (community organizing and mobilization) and community culture. Finally, this dissertation also attempted to understand the persistence of deviant behaviors among residents despite the introduction of the multiple interventions. Employing the western theoretical framework that emphasized the role of community social structures, social processes, and culture was useful in analyzing the behaviors of residents in a slum community. The structural conditions of the community, indeed, affected how the community was organized and how residents developed cultural scripts as justifications of their behaviors (Sampson & Bean, 2005). The western theoretical model was also useful in explaining the experiences of the residents when the community underwent the Gawad Kalinga 166 transformation. The western theoretical model was also viable in explaining why some residents engaged in continuing deviant behaviors despite the introduction of multiple programs. Some differences between the areas of concentrated disadvantage in the United States ghettoes and the Philippine squatters, however, needed to be recognized and taken into consideration to successfully employ the western theoretical model. First, instead of race as the key determinant in population heterogeneity, as the case in the United States, in the local setting under investigation, ethno-linguistic heterogeneity played an important role. Second, illegal squatting and the feelings of insecurity it entailed, a phenomenon uncommon in the western literature, played a more prominent role among Philippine slum residents. For example, in the Metro Manila slums, the threat of demolitions and evictions served as an impetus that brought residents to form an organization. Third, the mechanics of renting as indicator of residential instability are also quite different: in the western setting, renters are independent households that occupy a separate housing unit (that is, they rent an apartment unit), in the local setting, renters (or sharers) usually join an existing household under the same roof to save on expenses. Fourth, in the Metro Manila slum context, some professionals lived in the squatter communities (to be near their place of work), which is quite different from the experiences of communities characterized by concentrated disadvantage wherein middle class professionals had left those areas (Wilson, 1987; 1996). The presence of professionals in slum communities indicated the existence of local community leaders. Despite the differences in the specific manifestations of the structural conditions, the manner in which these structural factors affected the social processes and culture still conform to the assertions of the western theoretical model (Bursik, 1988). This suggests that the overall claims of the western theoretical model, with due 167 recognition on how specific variables are manifested, can be profitably employed as a framework in understanding crime and delinquency in non-western settings. In this final chapter, I summarize the findings of this dissertation research and discuss its implication to the western theoretical model. I highlight the areas in which the predictions of the western theoretical model had been supported by the narratives of the residents. I revisit some of the narratives to illustrate key points. The results of a community survey where 20 Gawad Kalinga residents and 10 non-Gawad Kalinga residents were systematically selected were also used to validate the key findings. Below is a matrix (Table 1-3) that summarizes the key components of the Gawad Kalinga program and how they impacted the structural, social processes, community culture, and behaviors of the residents. It also compares the pre and post Gawad Kalinga conditions in the three different community facets. 168 Structure Previous slum community set up Poverty; unemployment; joblessness; lack of household and community resources Land squatting; housing insecurity; fear and anxiety GK intervention Create livelihood and employment programs; develop skills, instill values for work; introduce vertical ties to employers Engage land owners (land acquisition), local Housing and community government (land overcrowding mortgage), private corporations (housing Slum appearance, materials) and depressed looking, patch volunteers (labor) up housing Rationalize space (rePhysical and social blocking), construct disorder common space (multipurpose hall) and Ethno-linguistic public spaces (streets heterogeneity; and alleys); physical improvements Residential instability (suspiciousness) Construct colorful, durable, functional and spacious houses; gardening Construct each others’ house; sweat equity; community amortization Table 1. Intervention on Community Structures 169 Gawad Kalinga community set up Increased employment and livelihood; household and community resources House and lot ownership; housing security; peace of mind Improved housing and community space; uniform housing, functionality Village appearance (clean and orderly) Ethno-linguistic diversity Residential stability Previous slum community set up Gawad Kalinga community set up Strong parochial ties (family and regionalism; defense against demolitions) Provide leadership training (reorienting the HOA); organizing and mobilizing Social ties redirected Lack of attachment; Lack of supervision; tambay and tsismis (gossips) Social Processes GK intervention Conduct weekly community meetings (dialogue and communications) Strong attachment to community Factionalism and favoritism; territoriality; competition over scare resources; Use of organization, leadership and informal structures (HOA) for deviant purposes Formulate of community rules and regulations (village management) Empower the residents of their roles and responsibilities Connect with outsiders Table 2. Intervention on Social Processes 170 Improved collective efficacy Elimination of factionalism, favoritism Use of organization, leadership, informal structures and vertical ties for conventional ends Community culture Previous slum community set up Code of survival GK intervention 14 week Life in the Spirit Seminars Sense of powerlessness Taking matters in their own hands Legal cynicism; cognitive landscapes; code switching Gawad Kalinga community set up Sense of responsibility Sense of empowerment Weekly values formation seminars and household prayer meetings Trust in the system Law abidingness Sibol, Sagip and Siga educational programs Constant exposure to GK “way of life” programs and slogans Behavior Illegal activities (illegal electric and water connections) Use of legal electric and water connections Reductions in tambay Prevalence of tambay Reductions in gambling Prevalence of gambling (card games, jueteng, cockfighting) Reductions in public intoxication and drug use Public intoxication Drug selling and using Reductions in domestic violence Domestic violence Conflict and violence Reductions in crime and delinquency Street snatching, shoplifting Table 3. Intervention on Community Culture and Effects on Behavior 171 A. Using the Western Theoretical Framework to Explain the Resident Previous Slum Conditions Summary. In their previous slum set up, research participants reported how the structural disadvantages of poverty, joblessness, illegal squatting, housing overcrowding, population heterogeneity, and residential instability impacted their lives. Based on multiple resident narratives, poverty and joblessness in a slum community meant the lack of money and resources. This was manifested in the experiences of hunger where parents reported the incidence of children going to school with half-empty stomachs. This was also manifested in the absence of community infrastructures where children had to walk barefoot in unpaved roads to reach the nearest schools exposing them to inclement weather. Accordingly, the experience of hunger and malnutrition, coupled with the household and community overcrowding, placed tremendous constraints on children’s education that elevated risk of dropping out from school. The lack of resources was also manifested in the inaccessibility of basic services like potable water, electricity, and garbage collection. Due to lack of resources, residents were constrained to support community activities like contributions to repair broken streetlamps. Unemployment and underemployment, on the other hand, promoted idleness and tambay (hangout) activities among youths and adult males. This lack of resources also provided the cultural scripts for residents to engage in illegal behaviors like justification of partnerships with a gambling lord for the use of the dead to generate income. The anonymity entailed by the coming and going of transients from the provinces, who temporarily stayed with relatives in the community, also heightened the suspicion among residents. As more residents came to avail of the squatted lands, the community even became more overcrowded which foisted another set of problems. Based on residents’ recollections, 172 overcrowding translated in the lack of privacy within the household, in mental and psychological stresses, physical hindrances to socialization, and as a barrier for the growth of businesses. Community overcrowding and the poor physical design it entailed, also translated into dark alleys and un-passable streets dampening the capacity of adults and formal police authorities to supervise the youths, thus creating opportunities for tambays to be engaged in delinquent activities. The threat of demolition, due to the illegal nature of housing settlement, also nurtured a feeling of insecurity among the residents. The residents were apprehensive of newcomers and previous experiences with community burnings raised their levels of fear and anxiety. The precarious state of “being evicted anytime” also served as a disincentive for residents to engage in household and community upkeep, which made the community even more depressing and “slum-looking.” Residents were content with patch-up shanty housing, though they sometimes created “annexes” to maximize income from rents of extra rooms. The threat of demolitions also forced residents to use illegal water and electric connections, as they believed their investments in these areas will be for naught. Taken together, the structural constraints induced a feeling of powerlessness and cynicism among the residents. These conditions induced specific forms of adaptations. The feeling of housing insecurity brought residents together, with the aim of averting impending demolitions and evictions. The formation of a local indigenous organization, the Homeowners Association (HOA), fostered the identification of local leaders, the growth of social ties, and the practice of informal control in the community. Through the social ties fostered by the HOA, residents were able to access jobs, mediate their conflicts, and control the behaviors of outsiders and newcomers. The HOA was also the mechanism where residents accessed resources outside of the community. The HOA even started a cooperative that was intended to help residents in time of financial needs. The 173 HOA served as an indigenous organization that imposed a precarious form of peace and order in the previous slum community. However, the scarcity of resources in the slum community pitted residents against each other. Resident fought over lot spaces, the control of local businesses, and the capture of resources solicited in the name of the community. This day-to-day struggle fostered the creation of factions along family and ethno-linguistic lines and the submission to the patronage of a local maton (bully). The constraints of poverty and joblessness also facilitated the emergence of ugaling skwater, akin to legal cynicism, where residents justified their law breaking behavior on the “need to survive.” For example, residents justified land squatting and engagement in illegal activities as a coping mechanism to survive their harsh economic conditions. Employing a cynical cultural frame, residents made use of the social resources in the community for both conventional and deviant ends. For example, despite its lofty goals, leaders utilized the indigenous local organization to forward their personal, family or parochial interests. The HOA was used to harass residents who did not follow the dictates of the leaders, though the harassments were framed as “violations of community norms.” Social networks were utilized to access entry to illegal employment or to shield a drug selling resident from the police. Vertical ties to the city and barangay hall were mobilized to generate resources purportedly for the community but inequitably distributed to favored residents. Because of factionalism, leaders played favorites, thus solidifying the bitterness and cynicism of the disgruntled residents to the community in particular and the society in general. The combination of the structural constraints and the use of social resources on cynical grounds made the community even more physically depressing, violent and crime-prone. Residents engaged in public drinking and gambling. Kids were left unattended and allowed to 174 play in streets covered with dirt and mud. Unsupervised youths hid from adult and police supervision and engaged in delinquent activities like alcohol and drug use, snatching, and teenage sex. Husbands and wives fought over meager household resources, which heightened violence in the homes. Neighbors fought over lot areas and other resources heightening the tensions in the community. The Salience of Social Structures. The narratives of the residents depicting the impact of the structural constraints on social processes were consistent with the findings of scholars on their studies of slum and ghetto communities in western settings. For example, the lack of resources as a defining characteristic of the slum community was originally noted by Shaw and McKay (1942) in their analysis of delinquency areas in Chicago. Shaw and McKay (1942) noted that the lack of resources within the community prohibited residents from participating in the organizational activities of churches and schools that lessened these organizations’ informal control of the community. The lack of resources also limited the slum communities’ capacity to offer recreational and other communal activities to the residents (Shaw & McKay, 1942). The impact of chronic unemployment had also been previously observed in ghetto settings (Wilson, 1987, 1996). According to Wilson (1987; 1996), prolonged unemployment introduced new habits and time schedules to residents, like staying up late in the night and waking up late in the morning. Unemployment also removed the discipline necessary to maintain a job like following a particular routine or to respect authority (Wilson, 1987; 1996). The aggregation of a sizeable proportion of unemployed residents also increased community-level strains (Agnew, 1999) that induced delinquent coping mechanisms. The experiences with chronic hunger and fear, despite best efforts to deal with these conventionally, introduced the residents to cultural scripts that rationalized law-breaking. Residential instability and racial heterogeneity, on the other hand, 175 had been noted to heighten anonymity and diminish the capacity of the residents to articulate common goals (Kornhauser, 1978). The high levels of residential turnover had been noted to erode ties among the residents, this limiting their capacity to be actively engaged in community life (Kasarda & Janowitz, 1974). Community overcrowding had been noted to create tensions among residents (Stark, 1987) and elevated community-level frustrations (Agnew, 1999). Simple yet recurring conflicts that emanated from the lack of space became a source of violence. The physical design of houses and communities had also been observed to affect the guardianship of social and physical spaces (Brantingham & Brantingham, 1981). Inaccessible streets and dark alleys served as undefensible spaces (Newman, 1995) that limited the capacity of the residents to question the activities of delinquent youths. And signs of physical and social decay had been noted to generate a feeling that no one cares and thus criminals are attracted to ply their trade in the community (Skogan, 1986; Wilson & Kelling, 1982). The depressing and slum appearances serve as crime attractors (Brantinghman & Brantingham, 1981) where drug dealers and prostitutes can openly operate their business in the area. All these mechanisms were reflected in the slum community in the Philippines. These findings affirm that social structures, though manifested in different forms, are key predictors of resident behaviors (Bursik, 1988). These findings also reiterate the continuing importance of incorporating social structures in the analysis of community dynamics. It further suggests that community based interventions should include a program component that addresses the structural conditions of the community in order to effect meaningful change. The Role and Conceptualization of Culture. The effects of structural constraints on the community culture also echoed the findings in the western literature. For example, Wilson (1987, 1996) reported that the constraints of extreme poverty in ghetto communities forced 176 residents to abandon conventional cultural scripts, as these were not viable in a setting of concentrated disadvantage. Residents may believe in the mainstream conventional scripts but may suspend its use in a constrained setting. For example, residents may believe in the propriety of single partners, however, poor single parents may abandon this practice and cohabitate with multiple partners in order to avail of additional aid to families with more children (Warner & Rountree, 1997). Accordingly, when conventional cultural frames were not regularly articulated, their hold on the mindset of residents was loosened (Kornhauser, 1978). Western scholars also noted that residents switch (Anderson, 1999) or drift (Matza, 1964) in their use of conventional and deviant cultural frames depending on the context of their situations (Bourdieu, 1984). Social capital, in a legally cynical context, could become a form of criminal capital (Colvin et al.,, 2002). For example, local gangs practice informal control over delinquent youths not so much because of their desire to help the community, but so as not to attract police attention to their criminal businesses embedded in the community (Anderson, 1999; Venkatesh, 1997). As such, despite the abundance of informal control, the community could still be crimeprone (Pattillo, 1998). The pattern where community social resources, like social ties, informal control and collective efficacy, were utilized for both conventional and deviant purposes were abundantly demonstrated in the Philippine slum setting. Resident narratives were replete with instances where they switched from conventional to deviant cultural frames. To revisit an example, Mang Simon, the kingpin of the previous slum set up, served as local police who mediated resident conflicts. Yet this conventional use of informal control was reserved only among members of a faction who professed loyalty to him. Otherwise, this informal control was used to harass members of the other faction. 177 Echoing this finding in the local context had two major theoretical implications. First, it provided further support to the importance of incorporating community culture in understanding the dynamics of the community (Kubrin & Weitzer, 2003). Without incorporating the cultural variables, the impact of social processes on resident behaviors may not be determined or may be contradictory. Including the cultural variables, on the other hand, can specify when social processes will result to conventional behaviors and when it will not. Second, the findings provided additional support for the need to reformulate culture. Recall that in criminology, culture had been conceptualized in terms of “values and norms that reside in a person” (Kornhauser, 1978; Sampson & Bean, 2005). When conceptualized in this manner, cultural variables had weak capability to explain resident criminal behaviors. Conceptualizing “culture as a frame” or “scripts” that can be used or disused depending on the exigencies of a particular context (Sampson & Beal, 2005; Swidler, 1986) had a better utility. As shown by resident narratives in the Philippine slum, residents can simply switch (Anderson, 1999) from one cultural script to another to justify their behaviors. This key finding is a major contribution to the literature and it supports the growing call for future researchers to include cultural frames in the discussions of communities and its nexus with crime and other negative behaviors Social Ties in Disadvantaged Communities. Another important finding to note is the problematic nature of social ties. Recall that one of the common controversies among western scholars is the differing strength of social ties in disadvantaged communities. The systemic model of the social disorganization theory assumes that disadvantaged communities, particularly those characterized by residential instability, necessarily develop anomic ties (Kasarda & Janowitz, 1974). For a time, this assumption was rarely challenged, especially by studies that employed quantitative approaches, and this assumption had been used to guide policy (Rymond- 178 Richmond, 2007). This assumption, however, was persistently challenged by qualitative studies that investigated the lived experiences of slum and ghetto residents. Qualitative studies repeatedly demonstrated that there were sections in poor communities that manifested strong and interlocking ties among residents (Horowitz, 1987; Suttles, 1968; Whyte, 1943). The slum community, even prior to Gawad Kalinga program, had manifested dense and interlocking ties. These strong and interlocking ties developed out of the residents’ need to defend themselves against the threats of demolition. It was also fostered by chronic unemployment where residents devoted time with each other thus establishing personal bonds. It was also facilitated by the family and ethno-linguistic networks that strengthened their ties within their factions. Indeed, even the nearby slum area that was observed for this study also manifested high levels of social ties. The average rating of 20 Gawad Kalinga residents on the social ties scale was almost the same as the ratings of the 10 non-Gawad Kalinga residents. (Gawad Kalinga mean score is 16.85 (N=20) and the slum community is 15.6 (N=10); t= 1.193; not significant). This finding in a Philippine slum setting provided further credence to the need to revise the systemic model of the social disorganization theory. Scholars should be cautioned against automatically assuming that socially disadvantaged communities necessarily manifest weak ties among the residents (Rymond-Richmond, 2007). Methodologically, this finding also demonstrated the appropriateness of employing qualitative studies in understanding the lived experiences of residents in a slum setting in the Philippines. In terms of policy, communitybased interventions must be cognizant of the level of ties even in disadvantaged communities as this may have a bearing on the level of acceptance or rejection by the residents of the new initiatives. 179 B. Using the Western Theoretical Framework to Explain Residents’ Experiences with Gawad Kalinga Program Summary. Resident narratives depicting their lives with the Gawad Kalinga program indicated the importance of addressing the three aspects of the community simultaneously. The re-blocking of the lot sizes, the construction of functional houses, and the provisions of passable roads and alleys, facilitated the socialization among residents and the supervision of youths. The improved physical housing design also translated into better mental health, increased privacy among household members, and enhanced opportunities for business generation. The appropriation of uniform lot sizes also eliminated a major source of conflict among the residents. The provision of legal land ownership reduced feelings of insecurity, which enticed residents to invest in the upkeep of their homes. For the residents, owning a land meant they were “no longer squatters” and they were “residents of a village” with attendant responsibilities and obligations. The provision of employment and livelihood programs for the residents also had multiple benefits. Increased employment among the residents translated to the reduction of tambays and less involvement in vices, like gambling and drinking. Employment eased the strain of “providing food in the table through whatever means” and re-directed residents away from illegal economy like drug selling and illegal gambling. Improved employment also meant better capacity for residents to meet the needs of the community and increased participation in communal activities. Coupled with the provision of legal housing, employment changed the residents’ “perceptions on poverty” and “sense of community.” Most residents stated preference to stay in the community for the longer term further strengthening residential stability. The requirement of house-build and the residents’ communal obligation to meet mortgage payments were also instrumental in overcoming ethno-linguistic differences. 180 The beneficial effects of the structural changes on community social processes were sustained through the community organizing and mobilization. Through the Kapitbahayan, residents promulgated a set of community rules and regulations that aimed to maintain the gains of the Gawad Kalinga program. For example, residents came up with rules on the use of the housing units, the stay of transients, and policies on unacceptable or deviant behaviors. The indigenous local organization and other community social resources like social ties and informal control were redirected towards purposive action. These qualitative assessments were also supported by the results of the community survey which showed that ratings of the Gawad Kalinga residents on the collective efficacy scale was considerably higher than the ratings of residents in the nearby slum community (Gawad Kalinga mean score is 20.45 (N=20) and the slum community is 28.9 (N=10); t= 8.16; p <.05). (Reverse coded; lower scores mean higher collective efficacy) The redirection of the community social processes was made possible through the introduction of new cultural frames that guided the behaviors of the residents. These new cultural frames were introduced through the changes in the structures (housing and employment), through direct intervention of the Gawad Kalinga program, and through the residents’ experiences with the community leadership. For example, the provision of legal homeownership among residents and the monthly mortgage payments it entailed increased their “sense of responsibility.” The Gawad Kalinga educational and spiritual activities, like prayer meetings, also instilled to the residents a “sense of a dutiful citizen.” The Kapitbahayan leaders continuous prodding also reminded the residents to meet their duties and obligations in a new community. As such, resident narratives suggested that a sense of responsibility and empowerment and trust in the system characterized the residents’ new way of thinking. These qualitative assessments were also supported by the findings of the community survey. The respondents from the Gawad 181 Kalinga community gave an average rating that was considerably less legally cynical than the average ratings of the respondents from the nearby slum community (Gawad Kalinga mean score is 24.9 (N=20) and the slum community is 18.9 (N=10); t= -4.3; p <.05). These new cultural frames, which were in contrast to the ugaling skwater (legal cynicism) that once pervaded the community, redirected the residents to the purposive use of community social resources for conventional ends. The easing of structural constraints, coupled with community organizing and mobilization, and the introduction of new cultural scripts that promote law-abidingness translated in a community that was more peaceful, livable and lesscrime prone than the previous slum community. Visible signs of public drunkenness, open-air drug dealing and use, and gambling were significantly reduced. Organized activities for kids kept them from the streets. Youths were either in school or were employed in the house-built, thus lessening tambay activities. The physical appearance of the community, coupled with the new sense of responsibility towards neighbors, increased youth supervision that lessened their engagement in delinquent activities like alcohol and drug use, snatching, and teenage sex. The provision for employment, coupled with the new cultural scripts regarding husband and wife relations reduced incidence of violence in the homes. The provision of uniform lot sizes and the improved mechanisms for mediation curtailed conflicts among the residents. Again, these qualitative assessments were supported by the community survey where respondents from Gawad Kalinga community gave a mean rating of community crime that was lower than the mean rating provided by the respondents in the nearby slum community (Gawad Kalinga mean score is 15.65 (N=20) and the slum community is 21.70 (N=10); t= 5.32; p<.05). 182 Effects of Structural Change. The narratives of the residents depicting their experiences with the Gawad Kalinga program were also consistent with the claims of the western theoretical model. The beneficial effect of providing employment to the tambay parallels some of the western findings. For example, western studies commonly showed that provision of employment reduced idleness among residents (Wilson, 1996) and increased the informal control of employers on the schedule and activities of those employed (Laub & Sampson, 2003). This finding is similar to the evaluations of comprehensive community based crime prevention efforts that included job training for youths, in addition to other forms of interventions, which helped in directing the behavior of the residents (Rosenbaum, 1988). The seeding component of the Weed and Seed program (Dunworth & Mills, 1999) where delinquents were referred for work or receive skills training and assistance for job application complemented the strict monitoring of their activities. It was believed that provision of employment reduced the exposure of youths to delinquent activities (Dunworth & Mills, 1999). Additionally, the Gawad Kalinga effort of increasing homeownership echoes the benefits identified in the western literature. For example, efforts to increase homeownership were found to increase residents’ desire to maintain the commonwealth of the community (Sampson et al., 1997). Homeownership is related to increased investments of the residents to maintain the upkeep of their dwellings and surroundings (Rohe & Stewart, 1996). Homeownership also fosters residential stability and networking among the residents (Aaronson, 2000; Rohe & Stewart, 1996). The beneficial impact of improving the physical arrangements and conditions of the community echoes the findings of studies on Crime Prevention Through Environmental Design (CPTED). For example, the re-blocking of lot areas, the provision of street lightings, and the 183 removal of physical structures that inhibit surveillance are consistent with environmental design changes to promote guardianship in natural spaces (Lab, 1988). The efforts of the Kapitbahayan to construct wider roads and multipurpose halls had similar benefits identified in communitybased interventions that altered the land use and circulation patterns (Taylor & Harrell, 1996). The reduction of visible signs of physical and social disorder had been found to deter criminals to practice their trade in the community (Skogan, 1986). The reduction of disorder also improved feelings of safety, which is also another mechanism to induce residents to participate in community activities (Skogan, 1990). Additionally, the efforts to improve the physical conditions of formerly neglected public housing through renovations increased residents’ attachment to the community and facilitated social interactions among residents (RymondRichmond, 2007). Studies also demonstrated that gentrification of blighted areas in the inner cities enticed the growth of businesses and creation of community wealth (Kirk & Papachristos, 2011). These findings reiterated the salience of structural factors in the analysis of community dynamics. It also affirmed the policy prescription that community based interventions must incorporate programs that address social structures. The Role of Social Processes. The introduction of community organizing and mobilization to sustain the changes brought about by structural changes were also consistent with the western theoretical model. For example, the efforts to incorporate the local leaders as partners in program implementation is similar to Anderson (1999) findings that “old heads” or residents who have esteemed status in the ghetto communities were effective partners in the community change process. Hope (1995) also found that it was better to recognize indigenous leaders and incorporate their participation rather than to build a leadership structure that was sponsored from the outside. Evaluations of community-based programs also established the 184 importance of community involvement, resident empowerment, and community collaboration (Green et al., 1999; Skogan, 1990). Failure to recognize the presence of indigenous leaders not only reduces community buy-in of the program but may also result in a community setup where residents become more fragmented (Rymond-Richmond, 2007). Based on resident narratives, the recognition by the Gawad Kalinga of leaders who composed the Homeowners Association (HOA) had been instrumental in the success of the program. The Kapitbahayan served as an additional mechanism to improve the community’s social processes. By enlisting the support of the indigenous organization, the residents were persuaded to adhere to the principles of the program. They themselves promulgated community rules in order to sustain their initial successes. The residents came up with policies on renting in order to supervise and monitor the behavior of transient residents. The beneficial effects of these practices are parallel to western interventions that promoted the development of neighborhood improvement committees and instituted collaborative problem solving meetings (McGarrell et al., 1998). It is also similar to efforts to involve tenants in public housing to come up with rules on the use of facilities, movement of residents, and weeding out of undesirable residents (Dunworth & Saiger, 1994; Popkin et al., 1995). All these parallel findings affirmed the importance of simultaneously incorporating structural and social process change (Sampson et al., 1997). It also demonstrated that community social processes can be improved in two ways: indirectly, through improvements in the community social structures, and directly, through community organizing and mobilization. These findings suggest that interventions can be implemented by a combination of long-term (structural change) and short-term (social-process) strategies. This is a key finding as the longterm solutions are sometimes pitted against short-term solutions. 185 The Role of Community Culture. Based on resident narratives, there are three sources of new cultural scripts that had guided resident behaviors. The improvement in the structural conditions of the community fostered a sense of responsibility among the residents which encouraged them to engage to law abiding activities. The series of seminars, educational programs, leadership trainings and value formation programs, also introduced new cultural scripts to the residents. The use of Kapitbahayan towards conventional purposes was made possible through the introductions of the new cultural scripts that fostered law-abidingness. Without the new cultural scripts, improvements in the social processes may be useless. Without the tutelage of the Gawad Kalinga’s caretaker team, the Kapitbahayan officers could have easily reverted to factionalism and favoritism that they were accustomed to. Finally, with the revitalization of the Kapitbahayan, residents felt that the community procedures for facilitating conflicts became fairer and that they felt that these new practices cemented their trust to the system. The importance introducing new cultural scripts to community, on top of structural and social processes changes are also consistent in western studies. For example, Kirk and Papachristos (2011) found that gentrified communities must be accompanied with mechanisms to lessen the legal cynicism of residents; otherwise, the physical improvements will be useless. Skogan (1990) also suggested that community participation on neighborhood watch activities must be accompanied with cultural sensitivity trainings; otherwise, community volunteering may degenerate to racial vigilantism (Hope, 1995; Skogan, 1990). These parallel findings once again demonstrated the importance of incorporating culture in the analysis of community dynamics. It also exhibited the ways in which new cultural scripts were introduced: indirectly through changes in the social structures and social processes; and directly, through specific programs and trainings. Finally, these findings demonstrated the need 186 to incorporate the three aspects of the community simultaneously in any community-based initiatives. C. Using the Western Theoretical Framework to Explain the Persistence of Deviant Behaviors Summary. As previously noted, despite the overall improvements in the community, a minority view indicated the persistence of deviant behaviors. Some residents of the community, called the rekals, rejected the Gawad Kalinga program. The rekals were residents who were unwilling to let go of the bigger lot spaces they previously occupied, who did not believe in the promise that they could actually own a house, and who thought the Kapitbahayan leaders were just using the program to advance their personal interests. The rekals did not want to be under the control and supervision of the community organization and they considered the Kapitbahayan leaders as dictators. They interpreted the new cultural scripts of the Gawad Kalinga as propaganda peddled to deceive ordinary members. They clung to the old cultural frame of gapangan at gulangan (shrewdness and machinations) and these guided their relationship with the Gawad Kalinga residents. For example, they availed of the services in the Gawad Kalinga program if it benefitted them but rejected the services when it demanded their time and resources. For them, Gawad Kalinga was just another racket or another source of income for the Kapitbahayan leaders. Given the constraints of their conditions (illegal squatting and unemployment), coupled with the lack of supervision of the indigenous organization, and the persistence of legally cynical culture, the rekals were continually engaged in deviant behaviors. The part of the community that they occupied was marked with physical and social disorder and they professed to engage in gambling, illegal water and electric connections, tambay activities and other delinquent acts. 187 The continuing opposition of the rekals also delayed the construction of houses for the Gawad Kalinga residents. As such, a portion of the Gawad Kalinga community was still housed in shanty housing and these residents were called the pendings. However, despite not having their houses, these pending residents had to meet the obligations expected to members of the Gawad Kalinga. They had to pay the monthly mortgage fee and weekly dues, participate in house-built, attend community meetings and programs, and abide by the rules and regulations of the Kapitbahayan. Some of the pendings had been employed and became recipients of the livelihood programs and this employment assistance had been helpful to meet their financial obligations. However, some pending residents were unemployed which placed a considerable strain on their capacity to meet their obligations as Gawad Kalinga members. The prolonged wait also casted doubts on their minds on the fairness of procedures in awarding houses. The need to prioritize their financial obligations also limited their exposure to the seminars, trainings and other educational and spiritual activities that promote the law-abidingness. Some of the pendings also sought the company of rekals, thus further exposing themselves with to antiGawad Kalinga sentiments. All these factors contributed to “backsliding” or the tendency to revert to the old slum practices. For example, some pending residents returned to illegal gambling as a way to make money and others even made use of their solicitation skills to con Gawad Kalinga supporters. Despite the initial success to convince the pendings in the Gawad Kalinga way of doing things, the structural constraints reintroduced old cultural scripts. Absence of at Least One of the Components in Change Process. The experience of the rekals and the pendings demonstrate the repercussions when at least one of key aspects for community change is missing. These scenarios were consistent with the assertions of the western theoretical model. For example, Kirk and Papachristos (2011) found that efforts to 188 gentrify a community (social structures) were not enough to increase residents’ involvement in crime control efforts if they remained legally cynical. They suggested that interventions to change the cynical culture must go hand in hand with gentrification efforts. Similarly, RymondRichmond (2007) found that residents of public housing who had been moved to better communities still maintained the factionalism based on gangs. She concluded that old cultural scripts persisted even when the structural conditions that created it had been changed (RymondRichmond, 2007). Community policing programs, despite the training and support received by community volunteers, cannot be sustained in poor communities where the priority of the residents was to bring food in the family table (Kelling & Coles, 1996). Residents also needed to be financially empowered in order to sustain their involvement (Hope, 1995). These findings in the western settings were echoed by the experiences of the rekals and the pendings. These finding affirmed the policy prescription that the three aspects of the community must be simultaneously improved in order to achieve lasting changes. The failure to introduce structural change (among the pendings) may re-introduce old cultural scripts that will entice residents to their old deviant behaviors. D. Conclusions, Recommendations and Limitations This dissertation research successfully employed a western theoretical model in understanding the experiences of residents in a slum community that underwent structural, social processes, and cultural change. With due recognition of the differences between the Philippine and US structural and cultural conditions, the western model is robust in explaining how the different facets of the community translate into delinquent and criminal behaviors of the residents. The dissertation also reiterates the importance of incorporating the three community facets in future analyses of neighborhood conditions. Scholars in the neighborhood effects 189 tradition should particularly pay attention to the conceptualization of culture as frames as this is more useful in explaining the contradictory effects of collective efficacy and other social process variables. Researchers using surveys are particularly advised to develop questionnaires that will be able to capture the cultural frames that are currently utilized in the community. These questionnaires should also be able to capture the nuances where residents can switch from one cultural frame to another. This is a challenge as most of the questionnaires currently employed to assess community culture are based on the culture as values conceptualizations. Even the legal cynicism scale that had been used in the survey portion of this dissertation had been previously constructed to assess the values and norms of the community (Sampson & JeglumBartusch, 1998). This dissertation also suggests that community-based interventions must address the three facets of the community. Structural changes, like poverty alleviation, provision of employment and housing, must be complemented with community organizing and mobilization and the introduction of new cultural scripts in the community. While community organizing and mobilization, tenant empowerment, and partnerships of residents and the police had been incorporated in many community-based interventions in the United States, there are still limited number of interventions that address the cultural scripts employed by the residents. This is understandable as changing the cultural scripts of community residents usually emanate from religious-based programs and this may be a key political concern in the United States (Cole, 2001). In the Philippines, it is quite acceptable for community-based organizations like the Gawad Kalinga to come in the community and use religious programs as a prerequisite for participation. The country being 92 percent Christian, it is quite politically acceptable to introduce Christian values and doctrines in the community programs. In the Gawad Kalinga 190 experience, the 14-week value formation programs, weekly bible studies, and regular prayer meetings, had been instrumental in introducing new cultural scripts to the residents. There were little resistance to the content and manner of implementation of these programs, even when residents could be potentially proselytized to the Christian faith. As the experience of faith-based organizations in the United States had shown, community-based organizations that introduce cultural scripts that are religious-based may become contentious. Government financing of faith-based programs may violate the principle of the Separation of Church and State (Cambell., et al 2007; Lewis, 2003; Peterson et al., 2002). Given this dynamic, it is suggested that community-based organizations, at least in the US context, should come up with programs that introduce new cultural scripts but couched in more encompassing terms. This could be done by educational programs that promote cultural sensitivity and celebrate diversity in the US population (Gould, 1997). For example, neighborhood watch programs may be complemented with gender and race-sensitivity trainings, in order to avoid the degeneration of these programs into vigilantism. Financial aid programs, on the other hand, can be complemented with seminar on civics and patriotism so as to avoid making these programs instruments in fostering dependency. The literature on social norms suggests that behavioral changes like dieting and bullying among teenage students can be affected by introducing new cultural scripts to the students (Berkowitz, 2003). Programs that challenge the existing “pluralistic ignorance” of the residents, that is, adhering to the notion of “it is okay to break the law as long as no one is hurt” can be addressed by introducing to the residents alternative civic-based conceptualizations. This dissertation research has limitations and caution must be taken in generalizing its findings. While the slum community selected for this study is typical of the slum communities 191 in Metro Manila, the experiences of the residents may or may not be the common experiences of most residents. This slum community of 1000 population may not represent the experiences the more than 4.6 million squatters. For one, the location of the slum community is in the heart of city, which may explain the high level of demolition threats that used to be experienced by the residents. Some slum communities, especially on the edges of the city, do not experience as much pressure from demolition threats and therefore the community social processes that develop may also be different. More qualitative studies done in other slum areas are needed to develop a general sense of these community dynamics. Second, though the Gawad Kalinga has a common package of programs when it intervenes in a community, there are wide variations in the content and manner of implementation (Chen, 2004; Scheirer, 1987) of these programs among Gawad Kalinga sites. For example, in some Gawad Kalinga sites, the landowners may freely give the land and thus the residents may not have the obligation to pay monthly mortgages. The consistency of the corporate partners and the frequency of volunteers also vary from community to community. This is particularly so as the Gawad Kalinga encourages its programs to adapt to the conditions of the community and the level of willingness and capacity of the residents (Green, 1977; Goodman et al., 1998). As such, the findings of this research may be applicable only to Gawad Kalinga sites where residents need to pay the mortgage and where some residents (rekals) rejected the program. Third, despite the best efforts to incorporate multiple sources of information, the narrative data may still suffer from validity and reliability issues. Without a direct measure of the conditions prior to the Gawad Kalinga intervention, this research made use of resident recollections of their previous conditions. While this research validated these narratives by 192 looking at the narratives of residents in a nearby slum area with the assumption that the current conditions of the nearby slum area approximate the previous conditions of the Gawad Kalinga community, problems associated with recall and telescoping may still compromise the validity and reliability of these statements (Sudman & Bradburn, 1973). The excitement with the Gawad Kalinga transformation may have colored the residents’ perceptions about their conditions and they may claim considerable change when in fact their conditions are still the same. In fact, this statement is repeatedly expressed by the rekals who suggested that the Gawad Kalinga residents had “believed their own propaganda”. In order to address this problem, a quasi-experimental design may be implemented in the future where a new Gawad Kalinga site is matched to a slum area with similar characteristics in terms of poverty, residential instability, ethno-linguistic heterogeneity, and threat of demolition. A baseline information using ethnographic and survey methods will be collected for both sites prior to the implementation of the Gawad Kalinga program. If possible, it is desirable that in this demonstration research, the key components of the Gawad Kalinga be implemented faithfully (fidelity) (Blakely, et al., 1987; Durlak & Dupre, 2008). Outcome data can be collected two years after the implementation of the Gawad Kalinga program to determine short-term effects. Another set of data collection can be conducted four and six years after implementation to determine whether the initial outcomes were sustained. A study using this design will be an improvement to this current dissertation. It will provide a better measure of the outcome variables, and the confidence to assess applicability of the criminological theory. 193 APPENDIX 194 APPENDIX A IN-DEPTH INTERVIEW PROTOCOL 1. Community life prior to the Gawad Kalinga program a. Please describe your community prior to the Gawad Kalinga program. i. Prompt: What were their experiences with poverty, housing overcrowding, and unemployment? b. Please describe how residents dealt with their conditions. i. Prompt: How did their conditions affect resident behaviors? ii. Prompt: How did residents relate with each other? iii. Prompt: How did residents explain their behaviors? 2. Introduction to the Gawad Kalinga program a. Please describe to me how your community learned about the Gawad Kalinga Program. i. Prompt: What made your community decide to become part of the Gawad Kalinga program? ii. Prompt: How did your community decide to become a part of the Gawad Kalinga program? iii. (For rekals): Why did you not join the program? b. Were there some concerns raised by the residents prior to becoming part of the Gawad Kalinga? i. Prompt: Can you share me what these concerns are, if any? ii. Prompt: How were these concerns addressed? 3. Implementation of the Gawad Kalinga program a. Please describe to me the different components of the Gawad Kalinga program implemented in your community. i. Prompt: How were these program components implemented? ii. Prompt: Were the residents involved in the implementation of these program components? iii. Prompt: In what ways are the residents involved? b. Where there problems encountered during the implementation? i. Prompt: Can you give examples of these problems, if any? ii. How were these problems addressed? 4. Assessing the impact of the Gawad Kalinga program on community social structures a. Please tell me how your community was impacted by the Gawad Kalinga program. i. Prompt: Would you say there are changes in terms of poverty and employment levels? In what ways are these changes affecting the community? b. One key component of the Gawad Kalinga program is to increase homeownership. Does your community benefit from this? i. Prompt: In what ways is this beneficial? ii. Prompt: Are there problems associated with homeownership? iii. Prompt: What are these problems? How are these resolved? 195 c. Residents of Gawad Kalinga communities come from different ethno-linguistic groups. For some communities, this ethno-linguistic heterogeneity sometimes creates barriers for communication among residents. Was this also the case for your community? i. Prompt: Were this addressed by the Gawad Kalinga program? ii. Prompt: In what ways were these addressed? 5. Assessing the impact of the Gawad Kalinga program on community social processes a. Comparing your community prior to Gawad Kalinga and to the current state of your community now, how would you assess the sentiments of the residents about their community (community attachments)? i. Prompt: How are these manifested? ii. In what ways are they different? iii. Are there benefits/drawbacks associated with these changes? b. Comparing your community prior to Gawad Kalinga and to the current state of your community now, how would you assess the strength of relationship among residents? i. Prompt: Are there differences in how residents inter-relate with each other? ii. In what ways are they different? iii. Are there benefits/drawbacks associated with these changes? c. Please assess the current strength of ties or connections of your community with outside organizations (for example NGO’s, local government, universities, churches) and compare it prior to Gawad Kalinga involvement. Are there differences? i. Prompt: Are there benefits/drawbacks associated with these changes? d. Please assess how adult residents of the community supervise children and youths i. Prompt: In what ways are they different? ii. Prompt: Are there benefits/drawbacks associated with these changes? e. Are there differences in how the residents solve community problems then and now? i. Prompt: In what ways are they different? ii. Prompt: Are there benefits/drawbacks associated with these changes? 6. Assessing the impact of the Gawad Kalinga program on community cultural orientations a. It has been noted that due to extreme poverty faced by some communities, residents develop coping mechanisms in order to get by. For example, in some communities, selling of drugs or gambling become an acceptable way of earning additional income (which is commonly known as “ugaling skwater”). Do you think your community has the same views other communities previously? i. Prompt: Were these views addressed by the Gawad Kalinga program? In what ways? ii. Prompt: How do residents view those behaviors now? Are there differences in how residents view those behaviors now? 7. Assessing the impact of Gawad Kalinga program on behaviors of residents a. Please compare the behaviors of residents before and after Gawad Kalinga is implemented. i. Prompt: Would you say there are changes? 196 ii. Prompt: Can you give examples of these changes? iii. Prompt: Are these changes sustained through the years? iv. Prompt: What would explain why residents revert back or continue to their previous behaviors? 197 APPENDIX B SURVEY INSTRUMENT Instructions for completing the Community Survey Below are EXAMPLE QUESTIONS (These sample questions are for demonstration purposes only so respondents can get familiarized with answering the questions. The response from these questions will not be included in the analyses). Example Question # 1. I have some questions pertaining to the physical and social conditions of your community. Please think of the conditions on the past week and tell me how commonly or rarely are these things happening. The following numbers indicate: 1= Very Common 2= Common 3= Sometimes 4= Rare 5=Very rare (In each statement, please check appropriate box) Events 1 2 3 4 5 Don’t know In this community, how common or rare is it to hear husbands and wives shouting and fighting each other? Example Question # 2. Which of the following activities do you engage in? (Please check appropriate box.) Engaged Not engaged Read newspapers Watch TV Hear radios 198 Section 1: Community Experiences 1. I have questions pertaining on your experiences in your community. For the purposes of this survey, a community is the immediate surroundings or the area that encompasses 15 minute walk away from your house from any direction. A. Do you or do you not consider yourself to be a resident of this community? (Please check one) Yes, I am a resident of this community. No, I am not a resident of this community. If “no,” terminate the interview. Thank you for your time) B. (If “yes”) How long have you been a resident of this Community? (Please check one) Less than 6 months 6 months to two years More than two years but less than five years Five years or more C. Not counting your immediate family members (like wife, children and parents), how many of your relatives and friends reside in this community? (Please check one) None A few Some Most all D. Do you have any specific concerns about living in this community? Yes No (If no, proceed to the next question) E. (If yes) Please tell me about these concerns: _________________________________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________________________________ 199 F. Do you or do you not engage in any Community activities? Yes No (If no, proceed to the next question) (If yes) Which of the following Community activities do you engage in? (Please check appropriate box) Engage Not engage 1. Community meetings 2. Parent/Community/ Teachers Meetings 3. Pasayawan/Bayle (Social dance) 4. Community Pista (Community festival) 5. Community masses 6. Community initiated rallies 7. Other activities (Please enumerate) ___________________________ _______________________ 200 G. Are you or are you not involved in any of the community organizations or associations? Yes No (If no, proceed to the next question) (If yes) Which of the following types of organizations or associations are you involved in? (Please check appropriate box) Involved Not Involved 1. Religious organizations 2. School based organizations 3. Socio civic organizations 4. Political organizations 5. Other types organizations (Please enumerate) ________________________________ 201 Section 2: Social ties with Neighbors 2. I have some statements pertaining to how residents in this community relate to each other. Please indicate how much you agree or disagree with each of these statements. The following numbers indicate: 1= Strongly agree 2= Agree 3= Neither Agree nor Disagree 4= Disagree 5= Strongly disagree (In each statement, please check appropriate box) Statements: 1 2 3 4 5 Don’t Know A. Residents help each other in times of financial needs. B. Residents watch out for each others’ children. C. Residents know the names of each other. D. Residents watch over the properties of other residents when they are away. E. Residents would react against a proposal to decrease the number of teachers in the elementary school. F. I have some enemies in this Community. G. It is difficult to establish personal connections with residents of this Community 202 Statements: 1 2 3 4 5 Don’t Know H. I wish to leave this community anytime soon. I. I enjoy the company of people in this community. K. Conflicts among neighbors often go unresolved 3. I have some questions pertaining to the physical and social conditions of your community. Please think of the conditions on the past 6 months and tell me how often or rare are these things happening. The following numbers indicate: 1= Never 2= Rarely 3= Sometimes 4= Often 5= Always (In each statement, please check appropriate box) Events 1 2 3 4 5 Don’t Know A. A fight with a weapon B. A violent argument between neighbors C. A gang fight. D. A sexual assault or rape E. A robbery or mugging F. Being offered drugs while walking on the streets. G. Being solicited with sex from sex workers on the street 203 Section 3: Legal cynicism 4. These questions pertain to your perceptions of about the law and justice system. Please indicate how much you agree or disagree with each of these statements. The following numbers indicate: 1= Strongly agree 2= Agree 3= Neither agree nor disagree 4= Disagree 5= Strongly disagree (In each statement, please check appropriate box) Statements 1 2 A. In our country, laws are made to be broken. B. There are laws that are not equally implemented. C. There are laws that favor the rich. D. It is okay to break the law once in a while E. It is okay to break the law as long as no one is hurt. F. It is okay to break the law as long as you are not caught. G. Sometimes, you don’t gain anything from following the law. H. It is okay to break the law as long as relatives benefit from it I. In making money, there is no right or wrong way. 204 3 4 5 Don’t Know Informal control I have some questions pertaining to how residents relate with other residents in your community. Please tell me how likely or not are these thing to happen. 1= Very likely 2= Likely 3= Neither likely nor unlikely 4= Unlikely 5=Very unlikely (In each statement, please check appropriate box) Events 1 2 A. If a group of neighborhood children were skipping school and hanging out on a street corner, how likely is it that your neighbors would do something about it B. If some children were spraypainting graffiti on a local building, how likely is it that your neighbors would do something about it? C. If a child was showing disrespect to an adult, how likely is it that people in your neighborhood would scold that child? D. If there was a fight in front of your house and someone was being beaten or threatened, how likely is it that your neighbors would break it up? E. Suppose there are efforts to relocate residents of your community, how likely is it that your neighbors would be involved to do something about it? 205 3 4 5 Don’t Know Social cohesion Please indicate how much you agree or disagree with each of these statements. The following numbers indicate: 1= Strongly agree 2= Agree 3= Neither agree nor disagree 4= Disagree 5= Strongly disagree (In each statement, please check appropriate box) Statements 1 2 A. This is a close-knit neighborhood B. People around here are willing to help their neighbors C. People in this neighborhood generally get along with each other D. People in this neighborhood can be trusted E. People in this neighborhood share the same values People in this neighborhood share the same values 206 3 4 5 Don’t Know Section 4: Experiences with crime and disorder 5. I have some questions pertaining to negative experiences, if any, in this community. Please try to recall if any of these things happened to you in the past 6 months (or since January of 2011) in your community: (Please check appropriate box) Yes No If yes, number of times A. Someone physically attacked you. B. Someone verbally threatened you. C. Someone made negative comments against your physical appearance. D. Someone made negative comments against your gender. E. Someone made negative comments against your religion F. Someone threw rocks at your house at night. G. Someone threw their garbage at your house premises. H. Someone stole some of your things left in your backyard. I. Someone robbed or attempted to rob your house. Please describe your general feelings about the crime situation in your community: ______________________________________________________________________________ ______________________________________________________________________________ ______________________________________________________________________________ ______________________________________________________________________________ 207 Section 5: Precautions against victimization 6. Here are some things some people DO to protect themselves or their property from crime that takes place at home and outside of home. Please indicate if you have taken any of the following precautionary measures. (Please check appropriate box). Yes No A. Ask neighbors to look after your homes when away. B. Have guard dogs at home. C. Being fetched (sundo) by a family member when going home late. D. Installed extra locks in your windows and doors. E. Have added lightings outside your house. F. Carry self-defense warning such as whistle and alarm. G. Carry self-defense weapon (includes knife, balisong, gun, club). H. Took self-defense classes. I. Continually change routes when going home. J. Took other precautions. Please specify: __________________________________ Please describe the effectiveness or ineffectiveness of these precautionary measures: ______________________________________________________________________________ ______________________________________________________________________________ ______________________________________________________________________________ ______________________________________________________________________________ 208 Section 6: Demographic information 6. I would like to ask some personal information that is related to this research. A. How old are you? _________ (In Years) B. What is you civil status? Please check appropriate. _____ Married _____ Single _____ Separated _____ Widowed C. Please estimate your total family monthly income. (This income includes all wages earned by members of the household. It also includes income from formal and informal earnings). __________(in Pesos). D. On your own, what is your total monthly income? __________ (in Pesos). E. What language do you speak at home? Please check all that apply: _____ Tagalog _____ Ilokano _____ Bisaya _____ Kapampangan _____ Pangasinense _____ Bikolano _____ Waray _____ Others (Please specify) _______________ F. Would you consider yourself to be an ethnic minority? _____ Yes _____ No (If no, proceed to the next question) If yes, what ethnic group do you belong?___________ G. What is your religious affiliation? Are you a _____ Roman Catholic _____ Protestant Christian _____Muslim _____Member of other Religions. Please specify:______________________________ 209 APPENDIX C RESEARCHER POSITIONALITY AND ADDRESSING BIAS: 13 A FIELD EXPERIENCE IN RETROSPECT I entered the field through the introductions of my uncle Eduardo who is a volunteer in the Gawad Kalinga site. Prior to my field immersion, I had visited the Gawad Kalinga site in the summers of 2007 and 2009 and had the chance to meet the leaders and residents of the community. I was able to acquaint myself with some of the residents and initially gained their trust and confidence. It was also based on these initial discussions that I learned of the need to support the Sibol program, the educational program for children ages 3-6 years old. When I went back to Michigan State University (MSU) in the fall of 2009, I was able to enlist the help of other Filipino students also studying at MSU to support the Sibol program. We were able to raise a modest amount through our Christmas caroling. The amount was given in the fall of 2011 and was used to support the teachers’ salaries and other needs of the school. As a “benefactor” of the program and a “nephew of Eduardo,” I was able to “put my foot inside the door” (Whyte, 1943) quite easily. The residents, especially the leaders, welcomed me eagerly, and when I told them that I may need to reside in the community for two months, they enthusiastically volunteered their homes as place for me to stay. There had been many foreigners who volunteered in their community and spent time with them, they said, and that having me around should be no different. I initially stayed in the house of Simon, the GK leader, and Simon even let me use their masters’ bedroom, “to make my stay as comfortable as 13  A  more  detailed  reflection  and  different  ways  to  overcome  the  biases  can  be  found  in  Narag   and  Maxwell  (2013).   210 possible.” I was also told that I don’t have to worry about my daily food and that they will have those covered. Having the endorsement of Eduardo, Simon, Leno and other leaders, it was quite easy to access the participants. Leno introduced me to residents, who were then very willing to be interviewed. It was easy for me to walk around, enter different homes, join their activities, share their meals, and access facilities like the multipurpose hall. In the first few days of my research, this set up seemed okay. Everyday, I dressed up like the Gawad Kalinga volunteers who visit the place (semi-formal attire), join in the house-build and volunteer in the Sibol program. I was also allowed to attend the community meetings and observe the household prayer meetings and bible studies. As I was trying to make sense of my early entries in my field data, however, I realized that I was getting only the “positive” results from the residents. Most of the initial narratives I gathered were very supportive of the Gawad Kalinga program, of the leaders, and the other residents. As I verified the characteristics of my research participants, I realized they were usually the ones who had been awarded a house, or were part of the livelihood program in the Gawad Kalinga community. It was then that I realized that I was referred only to the same type of residents that were similar in characteristics to the ones making the referrals. I was getting a limited picture of the whole situation. This realization triggered me to be cognizant of the Filipino cultural traits that may be at work in the research process. Prior to field immersion, I was quite familiar with the Filipino cultural traits of colonial mentality and collective identity and how this may affect the research process. Colonial mentality basically refers to the cultural trait that privileges the more affluent social class (Constantino, 1976; David & Okazaki, 2006; Rimonte, 1997) and collective identity is the 211 cultural trait that emphasizes community over individual identity (Church, 1987; Enriquez, 1986; Lynch & Makil, 2004). My experience in the first few days of immersion sensitized me on how these Filipino cultural traits may affect my positionality as a researcher. For example, I realized that being a “nephew of Eduardo” I was considered by the community as “one of their own” (or di iba sa amin). Through Eduardo’s endorsement, I was immediately treated as part of the community. This cultural trait is a manifestation of the collective identity in the Filipino culture. Also, as a “benefactor” and as “US-based researcher,” I was treated by the residents with utmost respect, to the point that I felt that I was placed in a social pedestal. Residents saw me as one who was “angat sa buhay” or one with higher respectability and so they deferred to me. This cultural trait is a manifestation of colonial mentality. For a 38 year old male researcher, this cultural context both facilitated and hindered collecting valid, reliable and authentic data. Being placed in a social pedestal, research participants were easily accessed. The mere mention that the “nephew of Eduardo is out there to interview you” imposed upon the residents to stop whatever they were doing. Residents would leave their laundry just to accommodate my interviews. In focus group discussions, residents willingly invited other participants to join. When I visited a nearby slum community as a comparison site, the residents volunteered to introduce me to leaders and residents of the nearby slum. The teachers in the Sibol program also wrote letters to parents as a form of endorsement to my research. For the residents, making themselves available for an interview is a way to reciprocate the many good things that Eduardo had done for their community. Being a “member of the community,” residents gave me access to the latest gossips. They entrusted me community secrets which provided me with intimate details of the dynamics of the community. I 212 was given access to the documents of the Kapitbahayan and the Sibol program which I was able to use to validate the narratives of the residents. Although the advantages of this privileged status are desirable, there were disadvantages that when left unrecognized, could have potentially biased the research results and even jeopardized the study. For one, as an accepted member of the community, I was expected to share in preserving the reputation of the community and to do my part in protecting the community according to the Filipino standards of collective identity. Residents had entrusted their stories to me; thus, I am now expected to only present the community in a positive light. In reporting the research findings, the implied belief was that, like a family member protecting the reputation of an errant brother or sister, I would be quiet about negative behaviors and only highlight positive aspects about the community. This became evident when I saw lingering drinking practices among residents (from the rekals), which should have been removed with the coming of Gawad Kalinga into the slum community. At the beginning of the immersion, I observed that residents did not engage in public drinking, an uncommon trend in Filipino slum areas where public drinking is commonplace. However, as I became fully immersed in the community, I observed that many male residents actually engaged in public drinking. In one of the drinking sessions, a resident explained that the reason I was not able to notice their drinking practices earlier was because residents consciously hid their drinking activities from me. One of the agreements the residents had with the Gawad Kalinga program is to lessen, if not eradicate, public drinking as this projects an image of disorder. The resident said, Dahil di ka naman na iba sa amin, nagpapakatotoo lang kami sa iyo. At wala namang masama sa ganitong pagtitipon, di ba, lalo at paminsan minsan lang naman. At naniniwala kaming atin-atin na lang ang impormasyong ito. (Since you are not a stranger to us, we are just 213 being truthful to you. And there is nothing wrong with this gathering, right, particularly as we do it only once in a while. And we believe that this information should be between you and the community. Presenting the community in a positive light is particularly beneficial for Gawad Kalinga communities that heavily depend upon outside resources and support to keep the neighborhood’s transformation going. To overcome these limitations, in about the third week of the immersion, I consciously began efforts to be viewed as a person with similar social status as the residents. So as not to be associated with Eduardo, I asked residents whom I had befriended to introduce me to other residents without mentioning my ties with Eduardo. I consciously minimized the incidents where Eduardo and I could be seen together. At succeeding households where I stayed, I slept on the floor. Although initially there was resistance to this setup, I was able to convince my hosts that this was a better setup. I requested residents to call me kuya or ‘older brother’, instead of ‘sir.’ I dressed up like the other residents (jeans and shirts) in order to blend in the community. I also clarified that the modest amount that was given to support the Sibol program was a collective effort of many individuals and was not my personal donation. These innovations had advantages. Being introduced as someone na may itanung-tanong lang or ‘with a few questions’, residents became less mindful of my presence. Residents were more relaxed and tended not to pay much attention to my presence. They would go about their ordinary chores. During formal and informal interviews, residents tended to be more open, cracked more jokes, and appeared to be more engaged. By removing the social status barrier, residents tended to treat me also as their equal. Without being viewed as angat sa buhay or ‘someone with higher social status’, I was able to solicit responses from participants that were devoid of subtleties meant for people in authority. I was able to observe the residents’ behaviors 214 in a more natural setting with less social reactivity, and I was able to interact with community members with lower social standing in the community. I was able to access those with “negative” experiences in the Gawad Kalinga program where I could construct a more complete picture of community life. In the process, I consciously and carefully negotiated my identity (as a researcher, as Eduardo’s nephew, as a benefactor, as a volunteer, and as a resident) while conducting research. I realized that collecting field data is like an art (Dunlap et al., 1990) and requires creative approaches to address each research scenario. Additionally, I realized researchers must be cognizant of deep cultural undercurrents in order to gather valid, reliable and authentic information. 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