#Labor Day Philippines

[openaccessbpo1]

May 1 is Labor Day in the Philippines.

We salute the people who continue to work hard not just to support their families, but to make the world a better place.

And to you, our OABPO teams, we celebrate and thank you for your dedication.

[sofiaruelle]

idk if there's anything you can do about it but someone is using your chappell hot to go art on teepublic & I thought you would want to know if u don't already :(

Nice. love this for me./s

uhhh anyways thank you for bringing this to my attention @hyuckieberry! I’m gonna try to figure out TeePublic’s DMCA takedown request. which is very frustrating since i am from the Philippines. and DMCA is very much bound to just the USA.

for now, if anyone sees this, PLEASE HELP ME REPORT the account.

If anyone is interested in buying the tshirt/design, please consider supporting me, its up on my Redbubble. the only place where i have uploaded the design.

Honestly, simply reblogging and liking this or the original post i made will help immensely.

[catdotjpeg]

2 Jun 2024, Filipino Workers Unite! contingent of the Philippine Independence Day Celebration, led by Malaya Movement NY, BAYAN USA Northeast, Damayan Migrant Workers Association, and NY Committee for Human Rights in the Philippines, New York, NY

[dexterczr]

Buti pa yong manok, bawat kahig may natutuka. labor day 2023.

[pannaginip]

AlterMidya on Twitter @altermidya:

PANOORIN: Nagsama-sama ang iba't ibang organisasyon para sa #IWWD2024. Tampok na usapin ang paglaban sa niraratsadang Charter change ng Marcos Jr administration.

2024 Mar. 8

Philippine Collegian, official student publication of UP Diliman, on Twitter @phkule:

NOW: Multisectoral groups march from Vicente Cruz Street to Mendiola to register their calls for wage increase, genuine agrarian reform, and national sovereignty this International Women’s Day.

#IWWD2024 #AbanteBabae

2024 Mar. 8

Katribu on Twitter @katribuphils:

INDIGENOUS AND MORO WOMEN EMBODIED BAI BIBYAON, STOOD AGAINST CHACHA ON INTERNATIONAL WORKING WOMEN’S DAY

Together, they unite under the banner "Kabuhayan, Karapatan, at Kasarinlan, Hindi Charter Change ng Dayuhan at Iilan."

Read the full release here: (FB link)

2024 Mar. 8

[theinbornartist]

I am not really done yet but I just want to share a WIP of my Oc with the two badasses I know ( from what Ive seen so far in my journey in watching Indian Movies). Its Pushpa and Dharani.

And to think, this like a WIP tribute to the laborers since its like Labor Day in my country so yeah.

[goodguygadgets]

OPPO waives labor fees on repairs this May 1, announces incredible deals this 5.5 Sale!

Give your OPPO smartphone a much-needed check-up on Labor Day with service fee waived; avail amazing deals on a wide range of OPPO products this 5.5 Sale! #OPPO55Sale #OPPOCarePH

Make the most out of your Labor Day holiday by giving your smartphone a much-needed check-up, ensuring your device is running in optimal condition. OPPO is waiving all labor fees on May 1, 2024 for every phone repair initiated and completed at all OPPO Service Centers. Your next shopping splurge? It’s got to be this May! Get ready to enjoy OPPO’s 5.5 Summer Sale with unbeatable deals and…

[fatehbaz]

was thinking about this

To be in "public", you must be a consumer. Or a laborer.

About control of peoples' movement in space/place. Since the beginning.

"Vagrancy" of 1830s-onward Britain, people criminalized for being outside without being a laborer.

Breaking laws resulted in being sentenced to coerced debtor/convict labor. Coinciding with the 1830-ish climax of the Industrial Revolution and the land enclosure acts, the "Workhouse Act" aka "Poor Law Amendment Act of 1834" forced poor people to work for a minimum number of hours every day. The major expansion of the "Vagrancy Act" of 1838 made "joblessness" a crime and enhanced its punishment. (Coincidentally, the law's date of royal assent was 27 July 1838, just 5 days before the British government was scheduled to allow fuller emancipation of its technical legal abolition of slavery in the British Caribbean on 1 August 1838.)

---

"Vagrancy" of 1860s-onward United States, people criminalized for being outside while Black.

Widespread emancipation after slavery abolition in 1865 rapidly followed by the outlawing of loitering which de facto outlawed existing as Black in public. Inability to afford fines results in being sentenced to forced labor by working on chain gangs or prisons farms, some built atop plantations.

---

"Vagrancy" of 1870s-onward across empires, people criminalized for being outside while being "foreign" and also being poor generally.

Especially from 1880-ish to 1918-ish, this was an age of widespread mass movement of peoples due to mass poverty and famine induced by global colonial extraction and "market expansion", as agricultural "revolutions" of monoculture/cash crop extraction resulted in ecological degradation. This coincides with and is facilitated by new railroads and telegraphs, leading to imperial implementation or expansion of identity documents, strict work contracts, passports, immigration surveillance, and border checkpoints.

All of this in just a few short years: In 1877, British administrators in India develop what would become the Henry Classification System of taking and keeping fingerprints for use in binding colonial Indians to legal contracts. That same year during the 1877 Great Railroad Strike, and in response to white anxiety about Black residents coming to the city during Great Migration, Chicago's policing institutions exponentially expand surveillance and pioneer "intelligence card" registers for tracking labor union organizing and Black movement, as Chicago's experiments become adopted by US military and expanded nationwide, later used by US forces monitoring dissent in colonial Philippines and Cuba. Japan based its 1880 Penal Code anti-vagrancy statutes on French models, and introduced "koseki" register to track poor/vagrant domestic citizens as Tokyo's Governor Matsuda segregates classes, and the nation introduces "modern police forces". In 1882, the United States passes the Chinese Exclusion Act. In 1884, the Ottoman government enacts major "Passport Nizamnamesi" legislation requiring passports. In 1885, during the "Tacoma riot" or "expulsion", a mob of hundreds of white residents rounded up all of the city's Chinese residents, marched them to the train station, kicked them out of the city, and burned down the Chinese neighborhood, introducing what is called "the Tacoma method".

Punished for being Chinese in San Francisco. Punished for being Korean in Japan. Punished for crossing Ottoman borders without correct paperwork. Arrested for whatever, then sent to do convict labor. A poor person in the Punjab, starving during a catastrophic famine, might be coerced into a work contract by British authorities. They will have to travel, shipped off to build a railroad in British Kenya. But now they have to work. Now they are bound. They will be punished for being Punjabi and trying to walk away from Britain's tea plantations in Assam or Britain's rubber plantations in Malaya.

---

"Vagrancy" amidst all of this, people also criminalized for being outside while "unsightly" and merely even superficially appearing to be poor. San Francisco introduced the notorious "ugly law" in 1867, making it illegal for "any person, who is diseased, maimed, mutilated or deformed in any way, so as to be an unsightly or disgusting object, to expose himself or herself to public view". Today, if you walk into a building looking a little "weird" (poor, Black, ill, disabled, etc.) or carrying a small backpack, you are given seething spiteful glares and asked to leave.

"Vagrancy" everywhere in the United States, a combination of all of the above. De facto criminalized for simply going for a stroll without downloading the coffee shop's exclusive menu app. "Vagrancy", since at least early nineteenth century Europe. About the control of movement through and access to space/place. Concretizing and weaponizing caste, corralling people, anchoring them in place (de facto confinement), extracting their wealth/labor.

You are permitted to exist only as a paying customer or an employee.

[weirdestcountryhumans]

Colonizer x Colony Ships: Why It's a Bad Portrayal and Something People Should Move Away From

Because these kinds of ships are far too common in this fandom, and people need to learn to recognize that they are incredibly offensive at times.

The Defense of These Ships

Many people defend these ships by claiming that the colonizer country feels guilt over what they did or that they were not involved in the brutality of colonization and were unwilling bystanders. Some claim that the colonization occurred because they "loved" the person they were colonizing and colonizing them so they could be together.

These ideas are, at their core, racist. That is not to say the people who ship them are racist, but these ideas originate in real-life racism, racist propaganda, and racist ideology. White Man's Burden (link) is exceptionally present in this.

These defenses also excuse the colonizer from the consequences of their own actions, excusing them from the ideals of their country to portray them as more innocent. I am not saying they cannot grow; I am just saying that in the 1800s, Britain wasn't going to be anti-imperialist. They don't see their actions through a modern lens and will be assholes (by modern standards) and bigots. They will not be the modern image of progression in those periods. And even if you have them get together after the postcolonial period, that does not erase the pain they caused that country.

It is insensitive at best and racist at worst. Please think things through before you create ships like these. To support my point, I have created a small list of popular colonizer x colony ships. I will go over a bit of the history between the two and why that illustrates why they shouldn't be shipped, as well as any problematic tropes I notice.

Ship Examples and why they don't work

Netherlands x Indonesia

This ship has always confused me. I really don't see much of a basis for it. One, if you have colonies be the children of empires; Indonesia is in a relationship with his parent. Two, even if you don't have that, the Dutch still committed many war crimes in Indonesia, like the Banda Islands Massacre, as well as inflaming ethnic tensions so they could get cheap war slaves, and ergo enslaving many people from the ethnic population. There is also evidence of torture of these slaves and some female slaves being used as sex slaves.

The Dutch's greed for money often led to famines as the local farmers were put under heavy stress, and the coolie indentured labor system was rife with abuses. Many war crimes were also committed during the Indonesian War of Independence. While modern relations are better, it does not erase these crimes, and I think this ship is very insensitive.

Japan x South Korea

Yeah, guys, Japan colonized Korea. Now, while what I am going to explain applies to both Koreas, I am specifying South Korea simply because I see that more.

Let's start with comfort women. Now, if you haven't heard of them, they were women and girls forced into sexual slavery by Japan during World War two. Since Korea was one of Imperial Japan's earliest colonies, many of the comfort women were Korean. They also began a period of Japanization, banning Korean names and the Korean language.

In the modern day, about 79% of South Koreans view Japan negatively, only being beaten out of the most negative perception of Japan by China.

Both modern relations and history show that Japan and South Korea would not be in a relationship, and I don't even think they would be friends. Japan's history with South Korea (and North Korea) has never been positive, and I do not think that this is a good ship, especially considering that their relations are still not great. It is very insensitive to the horrific war crimes that Japan has committed against the Korean people.

Sunshine Harem

This is singlehandedly the reason I made my Philippines AroAce—out of spite and hatred of this pinnacle of insensitivity. This is not only shipping the Philippines with one colonizer but every single person who had ever colonized him (aside from that one period of time during the Seven Years War when Britain was governing the island).

I am going to go through each person and explain why shipping the Philippines with them is bad, even though I really shouldn't need to point out that shipping the Philippines with three of his colonizers is bad.

Let's start with Spain. Now, out of all the people who colonized the Philippines, I know the least about Spain's actions. But, in typical Spanish fashion, war crimes were committed, with massacres being committed, as well as Hispanicization, as well as hundreds of years of revolts against the Spanish. There is no basis for a good relationship with so many years of bad blood. While modern relationships are okay, considering that some people have colonies as the children of empires, it feels a little like incest, or at the very least, having a massive power imbalance.

Next up is the good ol' US of A. Surprise surprise. The United States promised to give the Filipinos independence after the Spanish-American war, and they turned their back on them and made the Philippines a colony. What followed next was the Philippine-American War, a war in which the United States committed several war crimes, such as killing civilians (some of which were children), creating concentration camps for Filipino civilians, and torturing Filipino prisoners through waterboarding (link). This is a small sampling, but it proves how horrible things were.

Not only were there these horrific crimes but there was also a period of Americanization in the Philippines. While the United States did eventually give the Philippines their independence and liberate the country from Japan, that does not erase their record, nor does it abolish the legacy of these crimes. I cannot see the Philippines ever wanting to date the United States because of this.

And lastly, we have Japan. Like in Korea, many Filipino women and girls were forced into sexual slavery. The Japanese also forced Filipino soldiers into concentration camps where tens of thousands of them died from disease and poor conditions and turned the Filipino government into a puppet state. Citizens were also murdered and tortured by the Kempeitai, Japan's secret police.

That is just a summary of the war crimes committed by Japan while occupying the Philippines during WW2. It baffles me that anyone would ship them together. The Philippines would have lived through this. Do you think he would want to date Japan, even if it wasn't the empire of Japan? While Filipino-Japanese relations are much better than they were then, this is still a horrific subject.

Please, just look into their histories.

England x Ireland

Yes, Ireland was a colony of England (and later the UK) for around 800 years, from 1169 to 1918. During that time period, Ireland was subjected to anti-Catholic laws, laws banning certain aspects of Irish culture, Anglicisation, and ethnic cleansing (link), as well as the Irish Famine, which some argue is a genocide. I am not here to get into that debate, but I know pointing out that word will make you pay attention.

Ireland has lost a lot of its culture due to English colonization and laws, and there is a reason why the Irish do not like the English. This ship makes no sense and is insensitive to 800 years of colonization and struggles that the Irish went through in an attempt to keep their culture, language, and identity. There is far too much history for me to list here, but this ship is based on nothing. It is based on a terrible history that far too many people brush aside. Like with so many others on this list, it is insensitive.

Even with modern relations being better, the people of Ireland do not like the English, and this ship, to me, as an Irish citizen, feels like a slap in the face. There is no basis for this ship that makes an ounce of sense.

Israel x Palestine

I have seen this one before. It sickens me, especially with what is currently happening in Gaza. What I hate even more is when people portray it as if Palestine is the instigator of the relationship or that Palestine is forcing Israel into it. I shouldn't need to explain why this ship is horrific and completely senseless.

[blackreaderfics]

Hygge | Nanami Kento x Tiana

↳ Pairing : Nanami Kento x Tiana

↳ Rating :  T

↳ Summary : Nanami breaks his well cultivated routine 

↳ W.C : 4.4k

↳ A/N: the voices in my head got me y’all… this is a purely self indulgent fic featuring relatable king Nanami (I, too, do not dream of labor✊🏾) and black girlbossqueen Tiana

↳ Tags + Warnings: xenophobia from a side character, fluff, set in Tokyo, next door neighbors, cultural differences, salaryman x cafe owner, they can speak each other’s languages but not fluently

🎵 A Commuter’s Trip (The Commuter OST) by Roque Baños

🎵 Hello Stranger by KAI

Hygge (n.) | Danish

“the feeling of calm, comfort, and contentment evoked by life’s simple joys”

Nanami had a simple routine. Wake up at 6, shower, get dressed, eat breakfast by 7:45 and be out of the door—at the latest—a minute before 8. He had everything calculated to the T. If Nanami had been a minute too late—let’s say 8:01— he would miss the morning train and therefore be late for work, and he was never late. He had taken into account all contingencies i.e. a train delay, traffic, inclement weather, and made sure he was prepared for any and all possibilities.

That’s why, much to his chagrin, he was “Employee of the Month” every month since he had been promoted from associate to advisor. Most workers would’ve taken pride in that, felt their presence valued at their company. But Nanami didn’t care much for awards or titles, in fact, he just hated working period. He made sure to always clock out at 6 p.m. on the dot. One minute more would be overtime and he didn’t want to give his thankless job a second more of his labor. 

When he left work, he always went straight home. When his head hit the pillow and he closed his eyes, thoughts about the next day would drift into his mind. 

Did the market close up or down? What reports did he need to finish? There’s a client meeting coming up; the presentation deck needs to be prepared… Just two more days. Get through two more days and it’s the weekend. 

And so on and so on. Wash rinse repeat. 

He presumed this endless cycle of corporate monotony would continue until the day he turned 40, after which he could retire and live modestly in a country like Malaysia or the Philippines to catch up on all the reading he missed. Perhaps even find a nice woman and marry her while he was there.

The marriage part was new—an afterthought after years of daydreaming—and he didn’t really think much about the kind of woman he wanted to marry. What she looked like or what she did was more of an amorphous thought, a vague idea in his mind. 

Until her.

He met her by accident. Nanami had been cooking, a hobby he only indulged in on the weekends, and he was just in the middle of making a rolled omelet when he heard a loud thump outside his door.

His apartment building was more of an office building which meant that his floor didn’t get much traffic. The people who rented rooms were not really tenants who lived there, but workers looking for an extra workspace.  He had assumed the thump to be a delivery man outside his door so, naturally, he was surprised when it wasn’t the post, but a foreigner woman standing outside the room next door.

The woman had a heavy bag of groceries balanced in the crook of her arm and another by her feet that he presumed had been the source of the sound. When they made eye contact, he had been so startled that he quickly closed his door. The apartment next to his had been empty for months, but it looked like it had finally been rented out. 

He thought nothing more of it until her very presence began to infiltrate his well-maintained routine. Every morning, if he was quiet enough, he could faintly hear her humming as he got dressed. Other times, he could hear upbeat jazzy music on the weekends if he opened his window.

Every night, he was surrounded by the fragrance of whatever she seemed to be cooking. Most of the time it was sweet, other times it was savory. It wasn’t an unpleasant aroma, just noticeable to the point where its absence would feel strange. There were days when they would leave for work at the same time, though oftentimes he would end up holding the elevator door open for her when she left her apartment a few minutes after he did. 

In the brief moments they encountered, Nanami made small observations about her: She was an American. Beautiful. Unmarried—Americans wore rings on their ring finger to signify marital status, he’d noticed she didn’t.

He couldn’t infer her job or what exactly brought her to Tokyo in the first place from her appearance alone, however. He’d seen a fair amount of young foreign teachers in the city. He wondered if she was a teacher. She looked young enough. A missionary? She dressed modestly and wore sensible shoes. Her curly hair was often tied into a low bun. From the very slim list of what young American women did for work in Tokyo, he decided on teacher and his curiosity was sated. 

One day he found out. After a long day of work, he walked his usual route from the train station back to his apartment building but was redirected due to construction at his usual subway exit. When he alighted from the escalator he was on a different street entirely. The extra few minutes from this detour would undoubtedly cut into the time he’d set aside to unwind, and subsequently, he’d have to make a few adjustments to still get a full 8 hours of sleep.

He loosened his tie and sighed inwardly as he walked on. Since he’d moved to this district last year he didn’t make much effort to visit any new places. For all he was concerned, he only really needed to know his route to work and the nearest Starbucks. 

So when he passed by a small cafe called “Tiana’s Place”, it didn’t immediately click that the jazz he’d heard playing softly from her apartment was the same music that was playing now. It was familiar enough that it gave him pause. Where had he heard that song before? When he finally caught sight of her—his neighbor— through the glass window, it finally registered that she wasn’t a teacher or a missionary, but a cafe worker, and from the looks of it, she owned the place. 

He watched her dimples deepen as she interacted with customers, giving each and every one of them a tireless smile. Before he knew it, Nanami found himself inside the cafe whisked into the after-work rush of impatient office workers. She was so busy already, the only indication of strain being a moment when she blew the hair out of her face before the next customer walked up to order. He planned to buy something small and leave; he wanted to give her time to catch her breath but inadvertently in his musings he was already holding up the line. 

She was…right in front of him? And speaking to him now? It was the first time he’d heard her voice and he decided it suited her. She spoke in Japanese and, though accented, was clear and practiced enough in a way that impressed him.

“Are you still deciding, sir?” Impossibly large brown eyes waited in expectation for him to order.

He broke out of his reverie quickly enough to make it seem like his stalling was deliberate, his unmarred poker face further upholding the charade.

He scanned the prepackaged foods and retrieved the first thing that looked like bread. “Just this.” 

“Good choice,” She looked positively elated as she scanned the barcode and activated the card machine. “Beignets are my specialty.” She was beaming at him. Not in a “thank you come again” customer way but like in a he’d just made her entire week way. She was so laughably easy to please that it discomfited him.

He muttered a “thank you”, taking the package and turning to leave quickly before he met her eyes again. The Fall of Icarus was a cautionary tale for a reason, he wouldn’t risk another trip into the sun.

Nanami’s routine had drastically altered over the next few weeks. Every morning he’d gotten used to riding down the elevator with her. They greeted each other regularly, albeit a bit awkwardly, in the shared space—A slight bow from him as he held the doors open, reciprocated by a grateful wave from her.

The last time they shared an elevator, however, they'd accidentally brushed hands while reaching for the ground floor button. For some reason, that unnerved Nanami. So now, most times, he avoided that, opting to wait and listen to the click of her door before he left the house. For good measure, he started taking the stairs. As a result, Nanami had added an extra 10 minutes to his morning commute.

The detour, having yet to be fixed, took him past the café every day. Though Nanami knew the process of waiting in line would add an extra 15 minutes to his after-work trek, he did so anyway, calculating that picking up a quick dinner bento would be a fair trade to taking the time to cook something for himself. 

“What can I get for you today, sir?”  

He knew her name now—Tiana, from the name tag she wore, and the sign on the storefront. He noticed from the way her eyes would widen as he approached, that she recognized him now too.

“Black tea. No sugar, please.” He placed his usual prepackaged meal and packet of beignets on the counter, taking out his wallet. Nanami didn’t always plan to add beignets to every order, but he found himself reaching for them every time, dreading her predictable delight when he did. Ordering tea was another stroke of impulse he didn’t account for, but it wasn’t so busy now, he could enjoy it before he went home.

He decided on a table by the window, savoring the warm liquid as the sun set to a melancholy soundtrack of brass and bass. It was like being transported to another time, outside of crowded subway cars and the hustle of his high-powered office.

Nanami closed his eyes and felt something akin to contentment. When he exhaled, the stiffness in his shoulders abated, and the strain behind his eyes subsided. Was this what it was like to finally relax? 

He was about to take another sip of his drink when he heard a loud bang. The front door to the restaurant had flown open, a bulky man with greasy hair and a lecherous smile stalking in. Nanami’s eyes trailed after the man’s movements, the cup still raised to his lip.

“I’d like a dozen of those powdered donut things. Ya got any of those?” The man leered at the part-timer manning the counter. He sauntered back and forth at the register, eying the self-serve pastries in the display. 

“Sure, would you like them fresh? There aren’t enough ready-made ones for a dozen, but if you’re willing to wait there’s a new batch being made—” 

The man picked up a package of beignets that had been warming under a heated case and without warning, ripped open the package and took a bite.

“S-sir! You need to pay for that first!” The part-timer sputtered.

“Well, I’m waitin’ for that new batch. I wanna try before I buy.” The delinquent guffawed and attempted another gleeful bite only for the pastry to be smacked out of his hand and onto the floor.

He whirled around to face Tiana, bursting into laughter upon seeing her. “And who the fuck are you supposed to be?” 

“Call the police,” Tiana stated calmly to her employee as she stared down the man. Her usual polite smile had been replaced with a stony-faced expression. “Sir, if you’re not going to buy anything then it’s best you leave.”

“Huh? What was that? I can barely understand you, foreign bit-AHh” A pressure on the man’s shoulder made him crumple in pain.

“Your ears must not be working. I can understand her perfectly well,” Nanami murmured, his vice-like grip squeezing at the juncture between the man’s neck and shoulder. While the delinquent whimpered pathetically at the deepening pressure, Nanami directed his attention to Tiana, motioning with a slight tilt of his head for her to step away. “It’s not worth your trouble, I’ll take care of it.” 

She nodded reluctantly and joined her staff member who was now waiting with a phone at her ear behind the counter.

Nanami appeared to be saying something to the man now, but in a volume that Tiana couldn’t hear. His face was calm, betraying no emotion while the delinquent paled gradually in terror, trembling under his grip. The moment Nanami released him, the man scrambled out of his grasp and prostrated himself on all fours.

“I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I PROMISE I WON’T DO IT AGAIN PLEASE—” He shouted hysterically and proceeded to do a fervent bow of penitence. 

Tiana looked at Nanami quizzically but was only met with a mild shrug. 

“Alright alright,” she stepped around the counter to placate him. If he could just stop snotting up the floor she just mopped and get out of there, they could just forget this all happened.

The tinkling bell sound of the cafe door opening interrupted the scene; everyone’s attention shifted from the blubbering man on the floor to the police officer who had just stepped in. 

Before anyone could speak, the man sprang up from the ground and ran toward the policeman. “OFFICER! IT'S ALL MY FAULT I ADMIT IT! ARREST ME, PLEASE! JUST GET ME OUT OF HERE!”

Within 10 minutes the offender was cuffed—willingly, to the cop’s surprise— and whisked noisily out of the cafe just as quickly as he’d burst in. Nanami, suddenly uninterested in the commotion, walked calmly back to his table and gathered his things. 

Tiana made her way over to Nanami, eyeing the man through the window. He was currently being escorted to a police car on the curb. Still in hysterics, he’d practically thrown himself into the back of the car.

“Ok…what on earth did you say to that man?” She quirked an eyebrow at the blonde businessman.

That this cafe is his one and only oasis in the heaping pile of shit called life, and if even so much as one insignificant waste of air like him tries to ruin it he’ll have no choice but to chop his fingers off one by one and shove them down his throat so hard he’ll be shitting fingernails for weeks…among other things.

It would’ve been improper to divulge this to Tiana, of course.

“I asked him to apologize,” he said instead in simple English, a far cry from the eloquently horrific threats he’d made in his native language. 

“Really?” She asked, accepting the sudden change of language in stride. Her arms were crossed, her hip jutted to the side, face incredulous. “Just like that?”

“I’m rather persuasive.”

After a beat she laughed. 

Nanami didn’t consider himself a funny person. And frankly, he didn’t understand why she was laughing now but he welcomed it, if only to see that the earlier disturbance hadn’t caused her too much distress.

“Well, thank you kindly,” she drawled in between giggles, her southern accent now unmistakable when she switched to English. “Mister…” 

“Kento.” He offered his first name, aware he was skipping over several customary stages of familiarity. In any other case, anyone less than an acquaintance addressing him by his first name would be extremely frowned upon. But it was common business practice to use given names when dealing with American clients; he thought it fitting to do the same with her.

He reached into his suit jacket, pulling out a silver business card holder, and passed over an impressive looking card: 

Nanami Kento, Investment Advisor

“If there are any similar issues please don’t hesitate to contact me.” He repeated an English phrase that had come in handy from past business dealings.

“Mr. Kento,” she repeated to herself with finality studying the card. Tiana faintly wondered why a guy with a fancy title—and the most expensive suits she’d ever laid eyes on— lived in the modest one-room apartment right next to hers. She pocketed the card and patted around for her own business card. 

“I would’ve given you my own card too. But if you ever need to contact me—”

“Boss!” Her part-timer called out, waving her over from where she stood next to a police officer holding a clipboard.

“I’d better go, you know where to find me.” She excused herself with an apologetic smile.

Unfortunately for Nanami, this little ordeal had cost him another hour of wasted time.

The next day Nanami waited for the familiar click of her door shutting before starting his commute. When he exited his apartment, he could still see the silhouette of her back walking towards the elevator bank. 

She left without an umbrella, he noted to himself as he walked part of the way down the hallway. He imagined walking up to her and bringing it up casually as they waited for the elevator. But as soon as she’d turned his direction he changed course abruptly, legs moving on their own through the emergency exit and down the stairs.

Work went on as usual. He sat at his desk going over the pitch deck, but his eyes could not seem to follow the text. Instead, he found himself gazing out the window, watching the clouds slowly darken in the horizon. 

“Fucking weather, right? News said it’s gonna rain like a bitch the next few days.”

His boss had walked up behind him, crouching at his eye level to see what Nanami was looking at. 

“Hope you brought your galoshes, rookie, we’re going overtime today for that big client meeting. Dinner’s on me.” His boss clapped a hand on his shoulder and went off to bother a different team.

He tried to return his attention to his work, but he couldn’t. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes against the blue light of his computer screen. All he could think about was the rain.

Tiana had hoped that by the time she closed, the rain would’ve stopped. But she found herself outside the doors of the cafe, reluctant to leave. The rain hadn’t let up, and it didn’t look like it was stopping any time soon.

It was a day of disappointments. On top of forgetting her umbrella, Nanami hadn’t come into the shop that day. She’d gotten used to seeing him enter the store at the same time every day, and perhaps even looked forward to it. 

She took one tentative step outside, shivering through the draft of wind. She didn’t live far, maybe it would be alright if she just ran home with a plastic bag over her head. Tiana locked the door behind her and raised the collar of her jacket, clasping it with her hand to protect her neck. On the count of three, she lifted the plastic takeout bag over her head and took the plunge.

After a few strides in the pelting rain, it suddenly stopped—She had run into something or someone. The rain made it difficult to see where she was going so she blindly sputtered a reflexive “I’m so sorry!” in English at whoever it was that she had run into.

When she wiped the rain out of her eyes she could see nothing but an impeccably tailored pinstripe suit in the dim of the streetlights. It was Nanami and he was holding an umbrella over her head. His collar was unbuttoned without a tie, and he looked utterly exhausted. The dark circles under his eyes were even more pronounced from where she stood underneath him.

“Mr. Kento? Are you alright? What are you—”

“I figured you could use an umbrella,” he said dryly and pretty pointedly at her makeshift plastic bag hat.

“Yea, I guess I could use one of those,” she laughed breathlessly and took the bag off her head, before giving him one of those heart-stopping smiles he loathed. “You saved my life.*”

The corner of his mouth quirked slightly, amused. Perhaps because her choice of words sounded highly literal, almost…cute?, in Japanese. He “saved her life” just by sharing his umbrella? Americans were known to have a penchant for the dramatic. But he didn’t bother to correct her, instead, he only hummed somewhat of an affirmative response.

They walked in a comfortable silence down a familiar tree-lined path leading to their apartment building. She noticed Nanami’s shoulder getting wet, and leaned closer to him. 

Feeling the imperceptible shift, he gave the woman beside him a sidelong glance. His eyes settled on the loose wisp of hair he’d always seen her blowing out of her face.

It bothered him.

Maybe it was the fatigue-driven delirium, but he was struck with the inane compulsion to brush that lock out of her eyes. He couldn’t have been more grateful for the umbrella currently occupying his hand, otherwise, he would’ve indulged it.

Tiana reached over and gently adjusted the umbrella closer over his side. “Wouldn’t want to ruin that nice suit of yours,” she said softly.

“I hate this suit.” The curt statement came off a bit more brusque than he’d initially intended, though, it was true. He hated that suit and everything it represented.

She looked at him curiously, wondering if this was another aspect of his humor. But from what she could see on his countenance, he was entirely serious. 

He glanced at her again, catching the confused look on her face. “I don’t mind if it gets wet,” he reiterated this time with the intended lack of severity, along with a kind of finality that implied an end to the discussion of his suit and his decision to prioritize her dryness. They continued the rest of the way, the umbrella above them biased towards her side.

When they got to the apartment he held the building door open, letting her walk through first. 

“Thank you again for yesterday. That man, he was—” she paused to conjure the correct word.

“He was being a nuisance,” he completed, pushing the button for the elevator door. Naturally, he had chosen the same number for their floors, and when they arrived at their floor he waited for her to alight before walking after her.

When they finally reached their neighboring doors, he set his umbrella on the hallway floor for it to dry and began to punch in the code for his door. 

“Mr. Kento, wait a moment.”

He stilled his movement and watched as she rummaged into her purse. 

Tiana pulled out a paper box from her bag and presented it to him, “I was going to give these to you earlier if you came in. Glad they didn’t get wet.”

It was a small gesture. Even so, he was reluctant to take it.

“You… didn’t have to,” he frowned, eyeing the box.

“You didn’t have to walk me home, either,” she shrugged. 

“We’re neighbors. We were going in the same direction,” he said plainly, though, he didn’t entirely believe the words as they left his mouth either. It was unlike him to go anywhere else except straight home after working overtime. He hadn’t run into her by some coincidence or divine guidance. He’d gone there on purpose, and he had a sinking feeling she figured that out already too.

“Then just think of it as a ‘thank you gift’,” she insisted, tugging gently at his wrist and nudging the box softly into his hands. “For being my favorite customer.”

He shifted uncomfortably to receive the box with both hands. It was an unfamiliar concept for him to be anyone’s favorite anything.

“Good night, Mr. Kento.” Tiana’s voice had an amused lilt to it. Nanami must’ve stood there frozen because she was already halfway through her door, a knowing smile on her lips.

He regained his composure and mumbled back a formal “Good night, Miss. Tiana,” —her name a bit alien on his tongue—before retreating back inside.

When the door shut behind him, he immediately shed his suit jacket. His body was much too warm despite one side being wet; his collar much too tight, despite his lack of tie.

Nanami stared at the assortment of pastries that Tiana had given to him. He couldn’t recall the last time he willingly ate dessert though he assumed if he had, it would’ve probably been with Gojo and his infantile palate.

Truthfully, Nanami didn’t really like sweets at all. The first time he bought those beignets, he’d just picked up the first thing in line that day and just…never stopped buying it. Over the past weeks, he’d amassed a bevy of unopened bags of the foreign confection and they were occupying the much-needed counter space of his kitchen. 

It was rather ironic for an investment advisor to be so frivolous with his money. Spending on foods he didn’t even eat when was supposed to be saving it didn’t make any sort of financial sense. He had been planning to retire by 40, and now he’d have to add an extra 5 years to his projections over mere fried dough.

Nanami turned over the yellow business card for “Tiana’s Place” that he had found wedged in the box. A simple “Bon Appétit ;) -T.” was written on the back.

He picked up a beignet from the box and took a bite—It was made for him, after all. He chewed it slowly, the consistency not too far off from that of a baguette. It wasn’t too sweet, either. In fact, it was…delicious? Better than any dessert he’s had before. Maybe everything he’d tried before this was just a crude imitation, a poor excuse for the craft of baking. 

Perhaps he did like sweets or even dessert right before bed. Maybe he didn’t even mind that he wouldn’t be getting his full 8 hours of sleep. If he concentrated hard enough, her faint humming as she got ready for bed filled the silence of his apartment. He could stay up even longer if at all possible.

When he finally closed his eyes, a rush of different kinds of thoughts flooded his mind. 

Some were more mundane: Maybe I’ll have a beignet for breakfast or It’s probably going to rain tomorrow. 

Some were imaginations: plump glossy lips curved in an oversweet smile meant solely for him. His fingers gently tucking that bothersome tendril of hair behind her ear. 

He finally drifted to sleep with one last thought just as simple as the others, a tiny hope that she would forget her umbrella again.

*A/N: Tiana’s words sound like a literal translation/unnatural because she’s a non-native speaker ex. “you saved my life” vs a more natural/colloquial “you’re a lifesaver”

©️ blackreaderfics // credit to cafekitsune for the dividers

[imariejoyce]

The time I gained my confidence...

When I was a kid, I am not the type of student who always raise her hand during recitations in school because I am too shy to be the center of attention. Although I am sure with the answer, it take some time for me to have the confidence to speak out.

Since I like studying especially back then, my parents are always proud to attend the recognition day at school, walking to the stage with me to receive my awards. I may not be actively participating to the activities related to public speaking but my fruit of labor is still being seen with the results of my grades.

I could say that I am not the super nerdy and intelligent type of person, but what I can be proud of is that if I set some goals in my mind, I usually allocate ample times to study or prepare for it. It was the consistency and effort that I usually do whenever I want to achieve the goals I set in mind. I believe that being consistent can help you in anything that you seek to achieve. I also believe that being intelligent is another story. I still remember how those intelligent classmates I had during primary and secondary schools can simply analyze and answer the questions fast and correct after just looking at it for a few minutes, and with that...that is how I define smart people.

Before, I usually categorized myself as an introvert one. I better do everything on my own than being helped by someone, or than be an extra baggage to my group, or be a center of attention and be tagged as fatuous. I used to plan almost everything on my own... I better figure it out myself than asking someone to help me, even if it might cost most of my time to fulfil it... that I am self-reliant.

It all changed when I moved to another country.

Working in IT is not a typical field for women. Unlike in the Philippines, I still had few women colleagues in the team. In Europe, it is not the case, when I got the chance to enter corporate world again, I am always the only woman in my team. It was really difficult. There were even times when I need to push myself to get up from bed and go to work. My team during that time were dominated by men, I feel insecure…I was timorous. I even sometimes cried while walking going to the office, asking why am I actually doing this to myself...ugh! tough times.

But then, after some months, I observed that if I stay this way, I will be left behind...that I should be a team player...I started to forge my mind to trust myself. I tried to be optimistic...I keep telling myself that I won't be here if the company didn't see my potential to be amalgamated to my team.

Slowly, I refined my confidence. I learn how to lower my guard and start to trust the process.

Now, I am already six years here, still working in IT. It is also my second company and only woman in my team, again. Looking back from where I started, I could say that I improved a lot. I am now participating in projects, voice out and ask questions if I want to know more. Collaborating with my team mates and try to socialize if I have a chance to do it. I am thankful that moving to another country made me discover that I can be more than I thought I was, that I can also do what others can...that confidence is actually already within me and I just need to snap it out...

just like in the saying..."It took some fast rhythms to make the dancers come alive."

[fandomshatepeopleofcolor]

"

Appen is still her sole source of income. Pay ranges from 2.2 cents to 50 cents per task, Fuentes says. Typically, an hour and a half of work will bring in $1. When there are enough tasks to work a full week, she earns approximately $280 per month, almost meeting Colombia’s minimum wage of $285. But filling out a week with tasks is rare, she says. Down days, which have become increasingly common, will bring in no more than $1 to $2. Fuentes works on a laptop from her bed, glued to her computer for over 18 hours a day to get the first pick of tasks that could arrive at any time. Given Appen’s international clients, days begin when the tasks come out, which can mean 2 am starts.

It’s a pattern that’s being repeated across the developing world. Labeling hot spots in east Africa, Venezuela, India, the Philippines, and even refugee camps in Kenya and Lebanon’s Shatila camps offer cheap labor. Workers pick up microtasks for a few cents each on platforms like Appen, Clickworker, and Scale AI, or sign onto short-term contracts in physical data centers like Sama’s 3,000-person office in Nairobi, Kenya, which was the subject of a Time investigation into the exploitation of content moderators. The AI boom in these places is no coincidence, says Florian Schmidt, author of Digital Labour Markets in the Platform Economy. “The industry can flexibly move to wherever the wages are lowest,” he says, and can do it far quicker than, for example, textile manufacturers.

"

AI exploits people of color in the global south.

[catdotjpeg]

The fight of the workers is also a fight for the future of the youth! 

ICYMI: Anakbayan South Caloocan united in the workers' march to Mendiola yesterday on May Day to fight for Wages, Jobs, and Rights. 

As young people who will walk the path that workers are currently walking, that path and road are certainly dark. Workers' wages remain low, contractual, and their rights are not respected. Because of this, young people are not only united in fighting with the workers, but united in their struggle; knowing and studying their problems, needs, and calls, and including them in every step and forging of society.

Youth, unite in the struggle of the workers! Fight for Wages, Jobs, and Rights!

-- Anakbayan South Caloocan, 2 May 2023

[dexterczr]

truth is only hearsay

[pannaginip]

The police barricaded the protesters in Kalaw but the protesters were able to pass through and march near the US Embassy. The police attempted to disperse the protesters, some of them were injured after they were hit with truncheons. Minutes later, the police used a water cannon against them.

During the program, activist leaders denounced the police dispersal and arrest of the six activists.

Gabriela Secretary General Clarice Palce said, “The police prevent us from getting near the US Embassy but American troops freely occupy our land and seas,” she said in Filipino, referring to the Balikatan exercise with the US.

2024 May 1