South Florida Sun-Sentinel March 10, 2005 Strategy of targeting Taco Bell reaps gains for tomato pickers By Ruth Morris Staff Writer
On its face, this week's decision by Taco Bell Corp. to hand a penny-per-pound pay increase to Florida tomato pickers affected a small group of almost invisible, often undocumented workers. But for harvesters across the state, and for labor analysts following the three-year boycott of the fast-food chain, the salary boost had super-size significance.
"It's a potential spark," said Bruce Nissen, of the Center for Labor Research and Studies at Florida International University, referring to the accord struck Tuesday between Taco Bell and the Coalition of Immokalee Workers.
The agreement, which will cost Taco Bell about $100,000 a year, will affect 1,000 Florida farm workers. But those who fall under the plan will see their salaries nearly doubled to about $75 per day for the seasonal work. Labor leaders, meanwhile, hailed the farm worker accord as a ray of hope amid waning worker rights.
Following a model employed in isolated labor disputes, the coalition led marches and hunger strikes against the brand name of the fast-food chain, which buys 1 percent of the state's crop, rather than Florida tomato growers, who pay harvesters 45 cents a bin. Farm workers generally earn less than $8,000 a year, according to the coalition.
The strategy paid off with a tri-party accord between farm workers, Taco Bell and tomato suppliers. Taco Bell, owned by Yum! Brands Inc., agreed to pay suppliers an extra cent on every pound of tomatoes it buys, on condition the penny is passed on to harvesters.
For the men and women who cram into shoddy buses before sun-up every morning on their way to Florida's fields, the workers' coalition estimates the extra penny payment will translate into an extra 30 cents per bin of picked tomatoes. For the average farm worker who picks 100 bins of tomatoes a day, the additional $30 represents a 65 percent pay raise.
"Grain by grain, the chicken gets fed," said Roberto, a Mexican laborer, referring to the small payment's quick return. Dressed in a threadbare shirt and eating tacos at a Lake Worth eatery, he asked to be identified by his first name only because of his immigration status.
A baker by trade, 37-year-old Roberto crossed into the United States illegally four years ago, when slumping coffee prices triggered an economic downturn in his native Chiapas. He was poor then, he said, but has lived far below the poverty line ever since, surviving on random jobs picking cucumbers and tomatoes, and putting up scaffolding at construction sites.
"It's heavy work. I wouldn't recommend it," he added, of the long hours slicing tomato stems, stoop labor that leaves his waist and back aching.
The agreement will only apply to farm workers who cultivate the tomatoes that Taco Bell buys, but the fast-food chain said it will continue to meet with labor leaders to improve working conditions for harvesters, and that it will encourage other restaurant chains to initiate similar "pass-through" payment plans.
In return, the workers' coalition has curtailed its Taco Bell boycott. Coalition co-founder Lucas Benitez was leading a "Taco Bell Truth Tour" in Louisville, Ky., where the fast-food chain announced the wage increase. Benitez said he would continue with events to educate citizens on worker abuses.
"The large corporations have immense buying power, so they also have more responsibility and power to make a change for workers," Benitez said.
Taco Bell spokeswoman Laurie Schalow said the boycott had not hurt the company's $1.7 billion in annual sales, and hailed Tuesday's announcement as "a new beginning." The company initially argued it had no influence over suppliers' payment policies, but has now taken the uncommon step of imposing payment standards from the top down.
For Nissen, the labor analyst, that philosophical shift spotlights a startling if symbolic advance for farm workers, who can't vote, have almost no political clout, and are virtually denied their right to unionize because of their illegal status. Normally, such a group would have little hope of demanding higher wages, but by threatening a well-known brand name, they gained leverage. Similar efforts in the 1980s led to labor agreements between Campbell Soup Co. and farm workers in Michigan and Ohio.
"It's a trend to the extent that a farm labor organization can appeal to the consuming public," Nissen said. "That's the only way they're going to succeed." |