ASSOCIATED PRESS

January 13, 2006

 

FARM SCENE: Across the border, U.S. farmers trace their workers' lives

 

By CARA ANNA
Associated Press Writer

 

CASTORLAND, N.Y. -- Kerrie Baker's two Mexican employees live above her dining room. They don't speak English. Baker has maybe 30 words of Spanish. Working together on a remote, upstate New York dairy farm, they get by on smiles and the occasional visiting interpreter.

So when Baker said she was leaving for Mexico last month, the men didn't quite believe her. Then she returned with photos of their mountain village, and even of one man's startled mother. When the woman realized who Baker was, she started crying. "Take care of my baby," she told Baker.

As Congress prepares to take up immigration this month, some American farmers aren't waiting for reform. They're crossing the border to understand the issue for themselves, by visiting the far-flung homes of their employees.

But they don't go just for charity, "this old softhearted crap," says Wisconsin dairy farmer John Rosenow. Farmers call the trips an investment in a new kind of worker they hope won't disappear.

The interest comes from the newest farmers hiring Mexican workers, the dairy farmers along America's northern edge. A survey released in February by Cornell University said 72 percent of the largest farms in New York, the third largest dairy-producing state, had hired their first Hispanic employee since 2000.

Overwhelmingly, the farmers said their biggest problem was understanding their new workers, with 96 percent noting the language barrier. More than half also mentioned cultural concerns.

A new Cornell project and a Wisconsin-based nonprofit program called Puentes, or Bridges, cater to dairy farmers, though similar cross-border programs for farmers or agricultural leaders exist in Pennsylvania and Kentucky.

That dairy farmers would show this interest makes sense, says Bruce Goldstein of the Washington-based Farmworker Justice Fund. Dairy jobs tend to be year-round and steady. Goldstein says the visits are fine but the real test is whether wages and working conditions improve. The Cornell survey said the average Hispanic dairy worker gets $7.51 an hour.

Cornell took its first group of farmers across the border last month, bouncing in vans an hour past the paved road to a central Mexican village.

"Down there, they're grinding out a living the way we used to farm in this country 70 or 80 years ago," says Thomas Maloney, the Cornell extension associate who arranged the trip. "Believe me, once you go and see it, you understand why people travel 3,000 miles for a job."

The Pew Hispanic Center says Hispanic workers now make up about 40 percent of all U.S. agricultural employees, based on analysis of 2004 census figures. And a narrower measure, the National Agricultural Workers Survey published in March by the federal government, says 75 percent of U.S. crop workers were born in Mexico.

Not sure what to expect on her trip, Baker packed Mary Kay lipsticks as gifts. She returned to her farm on a lonely road just west of the Adirondacks with stories of how the Mexican cows gave just eight pounds of milk a day, compared to more than 70 pounds from her own. When she asked local students how many had relatives in the U.S., more than half raised their hands.

"That was the best $900 I could have spent for my dairy farm," Baker says. Inspired, she'll start a new language course called Dairyman's Spanish in the spring.

The Puentes program completed its latest Mexico visit last month.

Rosenow, of Waumandee, Wis.., says at first he was reluctant to hire Mexicans. Then the first one he hired worked 54 days straight, "with no complaint." Since then, he's placed Mexican workers on dozens of farms from North Dakota to Illinois.

Rosenow has crossed the border three times with Puentes. He remembers visiting a former employee and finding the man had used his U.S. earnings to build a bakery. "I didn't have a clue," Rosenow says. "I thought he'd want to live here (in America) some day."

Now Rosenow asks his workers, "Do you need to learn something?" He's taught a business course and a driving class, and his farm set up a banking system where workers' families in Mexico can access the money with ATM cards.

"If you can drag them to Mexico, suddenly they're full of ideas," says Shaun Duvall, the Spanish teacher who runs Puentes and helps teach the farmers Spanish.

"I don't want to be a missionary or something like that," Rosenow says. "But anything I can do to make things better for my employees will make this business run better."

Already, turnover has dropped 25 percent with Mexican workers, from 28 hires a year to 21. Now Rosenow works about 70 hours a week instead of 90 or 95. And after explaining to workers how higher-quality milk gets a higher price, his farm makes $1,200 to $2,000 more a month. The money goes for bonuses on top of workers' $375 weekly salaries.

Baker started hiring Mexicans less than two years ago, so she hopes her trip will help her bond with her workers.

Upstairs, 22-year-old Gabriel Monfil Arcos and 27-year-old Juan Arcos Garcia prepare for the midday milking of more than 300 cows. Garcia says he's surprised but happy "la patrona" made the journey.

It's almost impossible to take farmers to Mexico and not talk about immigration reform, says Maloney of Cornell. Garcia is asked about it now.

"Everyone has their own opinion," he says in Spanish. "For example, they could have a permit to let us legally enter for a half-year or a year. But they won't change the laws this way. I mean, they're talking about building a wall between Mexico and the U.S."

Downstairs, the men look through Baker's Mexico photos. After a few minutes, she says, "Tell them I want to give them a bonus for Christmas. I've never done that before. Tell them it's because they're special."

She waits for the translation and, soon enough, the smiles.