I met my first "mojados" today. When I use this Spanish word for what English-speakers might call "wetbacks" I do not mean it in any pejorative way. I think I use it because I can't find any other words to really describe the depth of these people. I've worked with lots of Latinos who've held many different types of jobs- meat packing in Iowa, housekeeping in Missouri, even now the other migrant workers that live at the camp in Cobden where my satellite office is.
But this was different. These workers come with a special type of visa the government has created for agricultural workers (sometimes referred to as guest workers) called H-2A. With this visa comes the right to enter the country to work... for whatever season the employer has specified in his work order (after he has proved there are no US workers that are willing, able, and qualified to to the work, and that bringing such workers will have no adverse effect on the wages and working conditions of similarly employed workers in the US). There are also certain protections built into this status such as a guaranteed proportion of the promised hours, a [sometimes] higher than minimum wage rate of pay, transportation, and housing.
I guess what really got me today was the absolute isolation and desperation in which these men (and they are all men, separated from or without families) live. Their status here is directly tied to the employer who brought them (unequal bargaining power anyone?). They cannot look for another job here if displeased with the current work. No one has a car. They are brought to a place they may have never seen or heard of. Their "homes" (often warehouses, storage units, or, like today, abandoned schools converted into housing) are far away from any town. The employer must arrange for transportation to town every so often, but like any rule, this can be bent or broken. Some have prepaid cell phones they purchase at Walmart or wherever but I can't help but wonder what would happen in an emergency...
I'll contrast this with what I feel is the situation of the other migrant workers I have encountered, which, let me be clear is not sensational. Most of the people living at the camp where my office is come on their own. Some have come for many years to the same place and have family in the area or nearby. This means they decide to leave from Texas or Mexico or wherever and drive (usually) to their destination. They come and go as they please and choose where they live. They too sometimes work long hours and living in a migrant camp isn't glamorous. They too worker for the same or similar employers who often bend and break rules.
En fin, today was an incredible 11.5 hour day. This internship has been a wonderful, though unexpected, opportunity to utilize both my social work skills (a lot!) and my legal knowledge to help others. One final bit of info about migrant workers before I collapse into bed (it's been too long since I spoke Spanish alllllll day)- check out "Harvest of Shame" a 1960s documentary about migrant workers. Although things have definitely improved in terms of the laws designed to protect such workers, I would argue that their invisibility continues to this day. I bet many of you, like me, didn't even know there were migrant workers in the midwest.
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