Migrant workers & structural racism in agriculture

Text has been slightly edited for clarity

Hi Seth, thanks for joining us today! Can you tell us a little bit more about you and your work?

I'm trained as a sociocultural anthropologist and focus on health and healthcare, specifically on the social forces that systematically impact certain groups of people. I'm also trained as a medical physician. I'm running a research project based in Barcelona, Germany, and California that examines how different social systems affect the health and healthcare of migrant farm workers, supply chain workers, and consumers.

To set the context, could you explain the role of migrant farm workers in the U.S. and how crucial they are to the current agricultural system?

In the U.S., similar to many parts of Europe, migrant farm workers are the main people who harvest our fruits and vegetables. The vast majority of farm employees in the U.S. are immigrants, most of whom were born in Mexico and are unauthorized or irregular migrants. They often lack work visas but are doing extremely important work that provides food for the whole society.

In 2013, you published a book titled Fresh Fruit, Broken Bodies, which has since been translated into Spanish, Portuguese, German, French, and Italian. The book was republished in 2023 with some updates. Can you tell us more about the meaning of this impactful title?

The title of the book seeks to highlight the fact that the fruits and vegetables that allow most of us to have a balanced diet come from the work of migrant agricultural workers. At the same time, this labor negatively impacts the health of the migrant farm workers, who are bent over all day, harvesting every day of the week. In many parts of the U.S., migrant farm workers face high rates of musculoskeletal injuries, pesticide exposure, and other health issues. The title reflects this relationship between society and the migrant farm workers who provide food, underscoring the inequality: it provides health on one side and injury and sickness on the other.

One belief supported by people and lawmakers across a broad political spectrum, not just the far right, is that migrant workers threaten the long-term viability of the healthcare and assistance systems. Based on your observations and research, to what extent are migrant farm workers benefiting from subsidized healthcare and government assistance in the U.S.?

In the U.S., most migrant farm workers don't have access to health care. Many of the issues that would take me to a clinic are left untreated for them because they lack health insurance. In some places, there are nonprofit clinics with sliding scales set up to provide health care for poorer people, including migrant farm workers. These clinics often offer translation services in Spanish, Haitian, and other languages to better serve their patients.

Sociologists and economists have detailed the contributions of undocumented immigrants in the United States, showing that they provide more to society than they receive. This includes economic contributions like paying sales tax on purchases and having taxes withheld from their paychecks. However, because many are unauthorized or irregular migrants, they don't receive tax refunds at the end of the year. Most earn less than the amount required to get a refund, but they still do not receive any returns.

They also pay into the Social Security system, even though they won't qualify for Social Security benefits when they're older. Some judges I've spoken with believe that our Social Security system would be much closer to bankruptcy, or already bankrupt, without the contributions from undocumented people who won't receive benefits later.

Part of the reason I titled the book "Fresh Fruit, Broken Bodies" was to encourage readers to recognize that if these workers are providing food and helping you stay healthy while getting injured and sick in the process, it's because of this relationship. They provide the food, and their labor makes them sick. We, as readers and as a society, are responsible and owe them the best care and working conditions possible, regardless of the type of farm they work on.

Despite what you are telling us about the importance of migrant farm workers in supporting our food system, anti-migrant rhetoric is unfortunately gaining popularity in the U.S. and various parts of the world. However, it appears that even some conservative farm owners are in favor of easing the legal situation for migrant farm workers. Can you tell us more about the legal rights of undocumented seasonal farm workers?

In the United States, all workers have labor rights if they're injured on the job, if they're not paid the minimum wage, or if their work contract is not honored by the employer, regardless of their immigration status. As workers, they have rights, and it's important to keep this in mind.

There have been groups, such as the Coalition of Immokalee Workers in Florida, that have successfully taken employers to court. Some employers had migrant farm workers living on the farm, not allowed to leave, and forced to pay for housing, food, and clothing from their employer. These lawsuits, which were technically about slavery, were won. The Coalition of Immokalee Workers and similar organizations have raised awareness about modern-day slavery in the U.S., where people are not allowed to leave and must treat their employer as the person in charge of their entire lives.

There are movements by other migrant farm worker groups and solidarity groups pushing for better working conditions, less exploitation, and greater awareness of their rights.

In my research, both in the U.S. and in Europe, I have found the treatment of many migrant farm workers to be quite depressing. The conditions they live in, the nature of their work, and the frequent violations of pesticide regulations and pay regulations are disheartening. However, I am hopeful because of the growing number of migrant farm worker groups and solidarity organizations advocating for better conditions. These groups are winning large lawsuits and forcing the state to protect them more. They are also increasingly voicing their experiences, making society aware of what is fair and unfair for them.

How do you see their legal situation, particularly in terms of visas, improving?

Right now, there haven't been significant movements towards regularization that I have been following. Farm workers along the West Coast and other areas have pushed for immigration law changes to make it easier for their workers to arrive and work without the risk of deportation or detention, which is detrimental to both the worker and the farmer, as well as to the food supply.

What I've seen more of is the government's approval of temporary worker programs, where workers are brought directly from Mexico or other countries and then sent back. These programs are highly debated in the U.S. and Canada. The power hierarchy between the employee and employer is extreme because workers come with the right to work only on that particular farm. If the farm mistreats them or breaks the law, they may be hesitant to report it because losing the job means losing their permission to stay in the country.

In your book, you discuss the distinction made between economic migrants and political refugees, with the latter being generally more accepted by society and able to obtain legal residency more easily. You argue that we shouldn't make such a distinction, as most economic migrants are in their position due to political decisions. Can you elaborate on this?

I've noticed, both in the U.S. and in Europe, that people categorized as economic migrants, who supposedly made a free choice to migrate, have fewer legal rights and less societal compassion than those understood to be refugees, who didn't have a choice. However, when trying to distinguish between political refugees and economic migrants, it becomes difficult to unpack. Economics and politics are deeply intertwined, and it's challenging to determine who is truly making a choice.

The people I work with are considered economic migrants by the U.S., even though there is a great deal of violence in their region, some of which is related to the history of the U.S.-led drug war. Funds from the U.S. to combat narcotics have also been used by Mexican police forces against indigenous people. This creates a confusing reality that isn't clearly about economics but is political, making people nervous about living there.

The North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA), strongly pushed by the U.S., is a major reason why many of the people I work with have left their hometowns to work on U.S. farms. They can no longer survive in their villages by growing and selling corn and beans. Consequently, someone in their family had to migrate to the U.S. to send money back home so they could continue to survive.

These economic pressures stem from political policies that make people feel they have no choice. When I interviewed indigenous Oaxacan migrants from southern Mexico, they told me their only option was to migrate; otherwise, they wouldn't survive. They don't see themselves as economic migrants choosing to seek a better life. Instead, they feel compelled by policies that leave them no choice but to migrate for survival. This blurs the distinction between chosen and unchosen migration, and between economic and political factors.

Can you elaborate on why the North American Free Trade Agreement prevents these Mexican growers from making a living by selling their corn?

The North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) made it illegal for Canada, the U.S., and Mexico to impose taxes on goods from each other. However, it didn't prohibit these countries from providing subsidies to their own production. This means that instead of protecting their people with tariffs on foreign goods, NAFTA essentially protects market inequalities. Wealthier countries can provide subsidies, while poorer countries cannot impose tariffs, which are essentially the same thing in reverse.

Since the signing of NAFTA, the U.S. has increased subsidies on corn by over 300%, while Mexico hasn't and lacks the funds to do so. However, Mexico can't impose any taxes on U.S. corn. As a result, large amounts of corn from industrial farms in the U.S. Midwest, typically monocrops, are sold in Mexico much cheaper than the diverse varieties of corn grown locally, which might be red, blue, yellow, orange, white, or mixed. Previously, people in Mexico grew the corn and beans they ate and sold the surplus in the market.

Previously, selling surplus corn allowed them to pay electricity bills, buy uniforms for their kids, and purchase eggs and fruit at the local market. However, with NAFTA, it became much more difficult because U.S. corn was significantly cheaper than the corn they grew. It was at that point that many of the indigenous Oaxacan people I know started migrating to Northern Mexico to work in strawberry fields, and to the U.S.

You explain how increasing competition in international markets might force growers to remain complicit in a system of segregation, where pickers are the main victims, just to stay in business. While farm owners and senior management should be held accountable for what they can change, it is also important to acknowledge the systemic issues. Ignoring these issues creates the risk of farmers firmly opposing any new social or ecological regulations, as they might feel that all the burden and responsibility are placed on their shoulders.

When looking at the living conditions of migrant farm workers, it would be easy to blame the employer, the owner of the farm, without considering the systemic reasons behind this. It is a obviously a very complex topic, but I’d like to ask you two questions. What are the systemic conditions that prevent farm owners from paying and treating their workers more fairly? What changes do you believe are within the farmers' control?

Those are both good questions, and I think you summarized it well. Of course, farm owners and greenhouse operators need to be responsible and accountable for how they treat their workers, even though they don't control the overall political and economic context in which they operate. Many farmers worldwide are also struggling with globalized markets that make it increasingly difficult for their farms to survive.

They are dealing with increasingly industrialized farming and large corporations that act as middlemen or grocery store chains, determining the prices of their fruits and vegetables. Large middleman or supply chain companies have more power compared to the grocery stores.

The farms I researched were large family farms, a mix of industrial farming still run by families. They are trying to maintain the family farm aspect while also competing with large industrial farms.

What I observed, which you can even see in aerial maps of the U.S., is that over the decades, small family farms have become larger and larger. You can identify these changes by the color of the landscape and what’s being grown there.

These small family farms, often worked on by the family along with some hired neighbors and migrants, struggle to compete with larger industrial farms. Some of these migrants are likely exploited and mistreated. As these small farms go out of business, they are sold to industrial farms, which then become bigger and bigger.

Many of the farmers I came to know had a strong anxiety about their future. They wondered, "How long will we be able to do this?" They wanted to continue farming because they care about the soil and their families, but the whole system is becoming increasingly industrial and corporate. Many of the companies involved are more and more transnational and have a lot more influence than the farmers do over the flow of money. This includes grocery store chains, middleman companies like Driscoll's, and supply chain companies.

In the farms where you have been working, for instance, what changes do you believe are within the farmer's control?

The most hopeful aspects I observed on the farms were when farmers literally sat at a table and listened to farm workers, engaging in conversations. Sometimes these were representatives chosen by the farm workers, and sometimes it was whoever was present. By setting up a system where farm workers had a say in what was going on, farmers had to hear how certain policies or practices affected them and how they were treated by supervisors.

On some farms, these discussions evolved into ongoing unions that hadn't existed before, which pushed the farmers to address the power imbalances. Farmers do have significant influence over specific policies and practices on their farms, including who gets promoted to certain jobs.

Typically, farm owners have several supervisors for different crops, with each supervisor overseeing several managers, and each manager overseeing team leaders. For instance, the person deciding who gets which cabins in the labor camp might be a team leader, just as the person deciding who gets promoted from picking strawberries to working in the processing plant, where they are paid per hour instead of per weight, might also be a team leader.

So the farmer doesn't always realize that some of these promotions are happening in a way that reflects structural or institutional racism. Certain people are consistently being promoted while others are not, not based on their niceness, smiles, or work speed, but because the person promoting them holds certain biases about who makes a better worker. These biases stem from social and cultural forces, including racialization, racism, and assumptions about different cultures.

Any way that agriculture can become more truly democratic, where everyone, including the most exploited, has a say, is important. Whether it involves listening and talking with each other or forming unions and collectively negotiating, these practices are crucial. When only the farmer tries to do the right thing, they might not always realize everything that's happening within the system they are part of. However, they do have some influence over promotions, living conditions, ensuring that everyone is paid at least minimum wage, and whether they support unions.

In the U.S., many workers, including most migrant farm workers, do not belong to unions, and many farmers are anti-union. This anti-union sentiment is widespread in the U.S. and relates to history, capitalism, neoliberalism, and individualism. So, farmers do have a say in these matters, and that's part of what I'm considering.

I can imagine that it is extremely difficult for workers living in precarious situations, often not speaking English or even Spanish, as it is the case with the Triqui workers you’ve spent time with, to fight for their rights. What are these migrants advocating for? Can you give examples of successful actions they have undertaken?

In the second edition of Fresh Fruit Broken Bodies, published in 2023, I collaborated with a historian specializing in indigenous social movements. Together, we updated the book by conducting interviews with the individuals featured in it to learn about their activities over the past decade. The historian also interviewed leaders from various social movements, including unions, indigenous Oaxacan rights groups, and bi-national indigenous organizations.

In the updated epilogue, we covered several significant developments. One major achievement involved Samuel, a key figure from the book, along with his wife and son. They actively campaigned in Sacramento for the inclusion of migrant farm workers in more comprehensive labor laws. Their efforts were focused on extending protections, such as overtime pay, to these workers, who have historically been excluded from such benefits.

In the U.S., there's a concept known as agricultural exceptionalism, where specific labor laws, such as those governing overtime pay and health insurance, often exclude agricultural workers, including migrant farm workers. Historically, many of these protections have not been extended to this group. Samuel and his family worked to change this by advocating in Sacramento for the inclusion of migrant farm workers in overtime regulations.

Samuel, alongside the United Farm Workers—the largest farm worker union in the U.S.—spent two years advocating in Sacramento. Their efforts culminated in the passage of a law that now mandates overtime pay for migrant farm workers, aligning them with other workers in California. This law requires that any hours worked beyond 40 per week be compensated at 1.5 times the regular pay rate.

However, since the law was enacted, many farmers and supervisors have found ways to circumvent it and cheat workers. I’ve heard multiple reports of situations where, as workers approach the 40-hour mark, farmers or supervisors instruct them to use a different name if they wish to continue working. This allows them to pay the workers at the regular rate instead of the mandated overtime rate. While the legal change is significant, it’s clear that better enforcement and genuine respect for workers’ rights are essential to ensure that the law is upheld and its benefits are realized.

Another significant development involved his nephew, David, who, along with his mother and the Binational Center for the Development of Oaxacan Indigenous Communities, pushed for a major change in health insurance policy in California. They advocated for health insurance coverage to include all people, regardless of immigration status, including irregular and unauthorized immigrants. This effort was successful, marking a substantial shift in policy.

Some people I know have type 2 diabetes, a condition that's generally manageable and can be well-controlled with proper treatment. However, without access to healthcare, it can become a severe and potentially life-threatening illness. With the recent policy change, everyone I know in California now has access to healthcare. While this improvement is limited to California and does not extend to all states, it represents a significant advancement in healthcare access for many. Now, all the farm workers I know have access to medical care if they get injured; they can see someone at the clinic.

The third development involved the person featured on the cover of the book. She played a key role in a long-term strike at several farms in Washington State, in the Northwest of the U.S. This movement led to the formation of a new union, which was primarily indigenous and led by Oaxacan people.

The union that emerged from the strike not only forged a strong solidarity with migrant farm workers in Baja California, Mexico but also initiated several transformative projects. One significant effort was developing a farm operated by indigenous Oaxacan farm workers. Additionally, the union took legal action against the state of Washington. They challenged the practice of paying workers per pound of fruit or vegetable harvested, arguing that this system discouraged necessary breaks for bathroom use, hydration, or meals, as every minute spent working directly impacts their earnings. The lawsuit was successful, leading to important changes in labor practices and further empowering the community organization and union. And now, in Washington State, workers are entitled to separate bathroom, lunch, and water breaks that are not deducted from the time spent harvesting. During these breaks, workers are paid hourly rather than per pound, marking a significant improvement in working conditions.

And then the fourth thing we wrote about is that four second-generation Triqui farm workers from those families produced a film called “First Time Home” detailing their lives, their families, and their experiences. This film offers a powerful glimpse into their personal stories and serves as a platform for them to share their narratives with a broader audience.

There are various collective movements, including major unions, emerging unions, binational organizations, and also groups of young people eager to challenge prevailing stereotypes and share their authentic selves.

Those movements are hopeful. But, of course, at the same time, globalized capitalism, neoliberalism, industrial farming, and the way that racism maps onto capitalism globally are all continuing and have strong support from powerful parts of the world. These other movements are important and are making significant differences in real people's lives, and they are inspiring in many ways.

In your book you mention that fruit pickers, who demonstrate a high level of efficiency and technical skills, are classified as "unskilled." During the COVID-19 pandemic, many jobs considered as "unskilled" were suddenly recognized as "essential." Could you share your own experience with fruit picking? Do you think the perception of lawmakers has changed since the pandemic?

I did full-time fieldwork with Triqui migrant farm workers for about a year and a half. When we were on farms, I lived in labor camps with them and picked strawberries and blueberries with them once or twice a week. The rest of the week, I observed what was happening in nearby clinics with migrant farm workers. I interviewed farm owners, crop supervisors, managers, and team captains to try to understand what was going on. Additionally, I traveled with them to their home village and did the entire migration circuit with them.

I got faster and faster at picking strawberries and blueberries because I learned through experience and from the people I knew. They taught me practical techniques, like not using two hands to pick one strawberry, which was too slow. Instead, I had to use each hand separately and pop the green part off the strawberry with my thumb to avoid slowing down. Over time, I developed a feel for where the strawberries were without always having to look at them, which also improved my speed. Despite my efforts and progress, I never reached the minimum weight requirement. If I hadn't been a white US citizen who didn't really fit in, I would have been fired and kicked out of the labor camp. But because I had this kind of social capital as a white US citizen who was unique, interested in what was going on, and trying to learn about it, they let me stay and live in the labor camp and continue picking berries even though I wasn't fast enough.

My work as a medical doctor is considered skilled by most countries in the world because I went to university or because of class assumptions that if you're from a certain class, you're skilled, and if you're not, then you're not skilled. My work as an anthropologist, involving reading, writing, interviewing, and observing, is also considered skilled. However, the labor of picking berries, the very work that feeds all of us, is not regarded with the same level of respect or recognition.

This work is incredibly difficult and requires a high level of skill, which I tried hard to gain and improve upon over two seasons. However, it is not considered skilled by societal standards. Despite the immense effort and expertise required, the labor of those who literally feed us is not valued enough to be protected under the legal category of skilled labor. This is a clear reflection of class discrimination and societal values. If you look up the definition of "skilled," it undoubtedly applies to this labor. Although I was gradually acquiring the necessary skills, I hadn't done it long enough to fully master it. This distinction between skilled and unskilled work highlights our society's skewed perception of value and the inherent class bias in how we categorize labor.

We don't value the work of the people who feed us, which is both ironic and sad. This is something we need to examine more deeply to understand why it happens. During COVID, governments became more aware of the living and working conditions of migrant farm workers. There were newspaper articles and radio shows discussing these issues, which is important for raising public awareness. I believe there is now more recognition of how migrant farm workers are treated.

What I haven't seen are significant changes in policies, practices, and programs for how migrant farm workers are treated and where they live. The awareness is important, but it must be harnessed by collectives pushing for actual change.

In Europe, the Common Agricultural Policy (CAP) of the EU is extensive, covering numerous regulations and guidelines, such as how often animals should be given water and the required space for each type of animal. However, despite this level of detail regarding animal welfare and agricultural practices, the CAP does not address the treatment of workers, including migrant farm workers. This omission is notable given that these workers are essential for harvesting, planting, and tending to fruits and vegetables.

It's not that farm workers should be equated with animals, but the contrast is striking. The agricultural policy prioritizes the precise treatment of animals and plants—detailing their space, water needs, and other specifics—yet neglects to address the conditions and treatment of human workers. This imbalance calls for a deep introspection into why we afford meticulous care to the well-being of plants and animals while overlooking the fundamental needs and rights of human beings. These workers, who may come from different countries, have diverse skin colors, or speak various languages, are integral to the systems that sustain our societies. It is crucial to reassess why their lives and well-being do not receive the same level of attention and protection.

What similarities and differences do you see between the situation of migrant farm workers in the U.S. and Europe?

Most of my research has been concentrated in the US, particularly along the West Coast in California, Oregon, and Washington State, with some additional work on the East Coast in North Carolina and Florida. In the US, I've observed that migrant farm workers predominantly come from Mexico and Central American countries. They mostly speak Spanish, though some use indigenous languages or Haitian Creole. These workers often reside in labor camps where the living conditions are harsh—exposed to extreme temperatures and lacking the comforts and standards of living that many people in our society take for granted.

At the end of the first year of COVID, I conducted preliminary field research across several parts of Europe, including Spain, France, Germany, and Romania. I found the conditions faced by migrant farm workers to be quite disheartening. I had anticipated that Europe, with its stronger social systems, more robust safety nets, and a greater emphasis on collective well-being over individualism, would provide better treatment for these workers. However, the reality I encountered was troubling and fell short of my expectations.

At the end of the first year of COVID, I did preliminary field research in Europe, covering many parts of Spain, some of France, Germany, and Romania. The conditions I observed for migrant farm workers were depressing. I had expected Europe, with its stronger social safety nets and collective awareness, to offer better treatment for workers.

However, many of the conditions I saw were quite horrible. I can't definitively say whether they are better or worse than in the US, but they were certainly distressing—possibly even worse in some cases. There’s also a narrative among European farmers and policymakers about California's agricultural system influencing Europe. While it’s true that some Californian companies have brought their practices to Europe, it seems that sometimes Europeans might use California as a scapegoat for the exploitation that they themselves may be perpetrating, and in some cases, possibly even exacerbating.

And they say, "Well, this industrial farming with this kind of treatment of migrant farm workers is the California way of doing things." It’s almost as if they’re implying, "It wasn't our idea, it’s not our fault; we’re just following their example." I’m still reflecting on that, but it’s been troubling to hear.

Some of the workers in Portugal have come from former Portuguese colonies in Africa. Recently, there has also been an influx from various parts of Asia, with some small towns in Portugal hosting a significant number of people from South Asia or other Asian regions.

In Spain, the situation is similar. Historically, there have been temporary worker agreements with countries like Ecuador. More recently, the workforce has included people from Morocco, Sub-Saharan Africa, and other regions.

In Germany, many of those working in asparagus fields have come from Eastern Europe. However, these patterns can shift over time. It’s crucial to monitor the system long-term to ensure that exploitation isn’t reintroduced or reinvented each time a new group of workers arrives.

Given the complex and systemic nature of the topic, what policies do you think lawmakers could support to improve the conditions of migrant farm workers while considering the challenges of the farmers?

What I would love to see is a discussion where migrant farm workers, farmers, and consumers come together to address their concerns and work towards a better solution. I’m not sure that industrial agriculture is the best path forward, as I’m not convinced it’s the healthiest for farmers, society, or for those of us eating industrially grown food.

At the same time, in the US, a sociologist has done detailed research into the working and living conditions of migrant farm workers on large corporate farms, small family farms, and organic farms. Sadly, she found that the treatment of migrant farm workers on small family farms and organic farms is often just as bad, if not worse, than on large industrial corporate farms. This may be because state investigations are more likely to focus on large farms, ensuring their compliance with regulations, while smaller family and organic farms might not be as thoroughly inspected.

But we don't fully understand why this is happening. We can't assume that if all farms were small family farms or organic, all workers would be treated well. Unfortunately, family farming and organic practices don't eliminate issues like racial capitalism or xenophobia. In the US, we need better enforcement of the laws we already have. We have some good laws protecting workers, but enforcement is lacking.

If we have a government, like a president, who doesn’t believe in protecting workers' rights or the environment, then those appointed to oversee these protections may actually work to undermine or dismantle those systems. That’s a partial answer, but it’s a very important point.

Part of the reason we wrote the epilogue the way we did in the book was to highlight the priorities of the workers I know. From what they’ve expressed, they care deeply about access to healthcare, their working conditions, and having a voice in public conversations where they can share their own experiences and be genuinely listened to.

Do you have other examples of progress made in the living conditions of migrant farm workers since you started your study and wrote your book?

One depressing aspect is that despite various efforts to shed light on it, the intersection of racism and capitalism continues to exploit and mistreat migrant farm workers. However, I’ve been inspired by the work of many migrant farm worker collectives, including the Coalition of Immokalee Workers in Florida, among others. They've initiated a program called the Fair Food Program.

The Fair Food Program includes mechanisms for enforcement. When a farm, grocery store, or restaurant joins the program, they commit to providing fruits and vegetables that meet Fair Food standards. This also means that Fair Food Program investigators can visit these locations to ensure compliance with the program’s requirements. Some of the leaders of the Fair Food Program are migrant farm workers themselves, including individuals with indigenous backgrounds, giving them a direct role in shaping the regulations and requirements for participating grocery stores and fast food chains. On a larger scale, this has been a hopeful development in the US.

The Fair Food Program now exists in several states. The involvement of migrant farm workers in leadership roles, contributing to decision-making, along with enforcement measures that extend beyond state budgets, makes the program both helpful and significant.

How do the people you worked and lived with find joy in social struggle and activism?

When the indigenous Triqui people I worked with first came to the US, many spoke only Triqui and some Spanish, but not English. Initially, they felt isolated and anxious about potential racism or xenophobia when visiting local grocery stores, leading them to avoid interactions outside their homes. However, through trusted community organizations like the United Farm Workers, the Binational Center for the Development of of Oaxacan Indigenous Communities, and Familias Unidas por la Justicia, they became involved in advocating for overtime pay and health insurance coverage. This collective effort, supported by community leaders, helped them gain the confidence to speak out and demand fair treatment, demonstrating that their advocacy could lead to tangible results.

They also observed that farmers, lawmakers, and others would find ways to circumvent the regulations. This realization made it clear that their struggle couldn't end with merely achieving overtime pay; they needed to ensure that enforcement was rigorous enough to prevent exploitation and ensure compliance. Despite these ongoing challenges, witnessing their growing confidence and involvement in articulating their hopes and priorities has been truly inspiring. Additionally, many of the issues they’ve fought for and the progress they've made have been motivational, reflecting their resilience and commitment to improving their conditions.

Their demands for overtime pay and health insurance went beyond mere improvements for themselves; they advocated for systemic fairness and broader societal changes. For instance, their push for overtime pay was not just about securing it for farm workers but about establishing that all workers deserve such benefits. Similarly, their fight for health insurance was about ensuring that everyone, regardless of their status, should have access to healthcare. What’s truly inspiring is their vision for a more equitable society where everyone is cared for and looked after. Their aspirations reflect a commitment not only to their own needs but to creating a better world for everyone, demonstrating a profound sense of solidarity and hope for a more just system.

How can we, as consumers, show concrete solidarity with farm workers?

There are several ways to support fair treatment of farm workers. One approach is to buy food from farms and organizations known for treating their workers fairly. While it can be challenging to determine this information while shopping, look for products that are associated with the Fair Food Program or have contracts with the United Farm Workers. These labels indicate that farm workers have a role in the decision-making process, ensuring better conditions and fairer treatment. Supporting these products can help promote better practices in agriculture and support workers’ rights. Try to figure out where your food comes from because our global food systems often make things hidden and not transparent.

Another thing is when you hear assumptions, stereotypes, or negative comments about immigrants or migrant farm workers, you can counter with, "Actually, research shows they're contributing more than they receive, and that's not fair. They should receive more." Or, "I read this book where I got to know some of these people, and they're not as you describe."

Just countering public assumptions about immigrants and migrant farm workers can help change how people interact with them, how they approach farming, and how they vote.

In recent elections in France and the UK, and with the upcoming election in the US, it's clear that who is in charge impacts real people's lives, especially those with little economic or social buffer. Voting for leaders who aren't actively racist, who support a fair system for everyone, and who advocate for a strong health system not undermined by corporate interests is crucial.

For the migrant farm workers I know, these issues are crucial because they often lack health insurance and can’t afford it on their own. Therefore, we need to support fair food by choosing products from farms and organizations that treat workers well. We should also counter unfair narratives by challenging negative stereotypes and misinformation about migrant farm workers. Additionally, engaging in democracy by voting and supporting campaigns that advocate for fair treatment and better working conditions is essential. These actions can make a significant difference.

Are there any recommendations you’d like to make to our listeners who want to dive deeper into the topic?

If you want to delve deeper into this topic, your approach might vary based on your location. It's essential to find out what migrant farm worker organizations in your area are advocating for. For example, near Huelva in Spain, you can follow the Jornaleras en Lucha, who have specific campaigns and requests. In southern France, the CODETRAS is active in different issues. In the US, organizations like Familias Unidas por la Justicia, the United Farm Workers, the Coalition of Immokalee Workers, and the Fair Food Program are key groups to engage with. Listening to and supporting these organizations' efforts can make a significant difference.

A key part of getting involved is understanding what's happening in your local area and finding ways to support and stand in solidarity with those efforts. At the end of the book, my co-author and I provide some suggestions on how people can contribute meaningfully without overwhelming community organizations. We aimed to offer guidance on being supportive while respecting the capacities of these groups. I hope those sections provide useful insights for getting involved.

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Interview conducted by: Thomas Grandperrin