Migrant education on the wane

By Matt O'Brien
Contra Costa Times

As his son and daughter attend Livermore schools, Eric Vega moves wherever the work pulls him. He has farmed strawberries in Hollister, corn in Brentwood and onions in Gilroy.

"Whenever the season calls, I have to travel around," Vega said.

It used to be that workers like him plucked up their kids when they migrated for weeks or months across county, state and national borders, and many still do. But Vega and his wife like the stability of home, the decent rent they pay to live there, and the supportive community they've come to know at the Livermore Valley Joint Unified School District.

Keeping the family in one place has its advantages. But beginning in December, that stability will also disqualify Vega's 5- and 7-year-olds from participating in the Migrant Education Program that their parents say has helped them learn and stay healthy.

The national program, which dates to the 1960s, once had a bigger presence in rural parts of the Bay Area. It helped to counsel and educate children of farm workers who were often forced to move around for work, disrupting the school year.

But the influence of the 40-year-old federal program is dwindling in the region, as agriculture has been replaced by housing and stores, and families are more likely to stay put or work in other industries, making them ineligible.

"Five years ago, where we used to have fields, now we have homes," said Maggie Velasco, who coordinates an East Contra Costa County branch of the program for students in Brentwood, Oakley, Byron and Discovery Bay. "Eligibility is good for three years. Once that ends, and if they're not doing any type of agricultural work, they will not be able to requalify. That means there is a risk we will no longer have a service agreement for the district."

It is not just a local phenomenon: Statewide, the number of participating students dropped from more than 300,000 in 2003 to about 247,000 in 2007, and continues dropping, mostly because of stricter federal requirements, said Ernie Ruiz, administrator of California's Migrant Education Program.

Federal officials began audits to make sure all parents fulfilled the requirements of the program, which include that they work in agriculture or fishing and that trips to and from one place, such as Mexico, are for lengthy seasonal work and not just family visits.

"Because of these audits the states tend to become more restrictive and vigilant about who they qualify," Ruiz said. "When the numbers drop, Congress will say, 'You have less students, you probably need less money.'"

In late August, Ruiz wrote a letter to federal education officials raising concern that the logistical changes required to adopt a new national eligibility certificate and to enforce new regulations are "overwhelming for a state like ours." California, he said, has 33 percent of the nation's migrant children and receives $126 million of the $367 million distributed nationwide.

And while the number of qualifying students is dropping, Ruiz said the problems that the program helps reduce — such as lack of proficiency in English and math — are not going away for migrant children.

The program is for students from 3 to 22, and services can range from child dental care to supplemental education for those who never graduated from high school.

"They really take care of each other and help each other a lot," said Marta Urrutia, a migrant education recruiter who works with families at the Marylin Avenue Elementary School in Livermore. "The program is really a family."

When local educators tell their participating migrant students to reach for the stars, they point to success stories like Jose Hernandez, an American astronaut.

Thirty years ago, the Stockton son of migrant parents was going to school, picking produce, and getting extra support from migrant education staff members.

Rodrigo Perez, 16, does not aim for the stars, but maybe he could become one. He hopes to be a performing artist in New York City — a dream he said has been encouraged by the migrant-education counselors who have helped him since his mother moved him to the East Bay from Mexico several years ago.

Perez, a student at Liberty High School in Brentwood, spent weekends helping his mother prune apricot trees. He said his English was poor and his confidence lacking when program member Mariana Ambriz first reached out to him.

"When I meet them freshman year, I'll ask them, 'Do you have something in mind?'" Ambriz said. "He always told me that art was his interest. The first thing was overcoming the barrier of learning a second language."

Perez said counselors connected him to classes at Los Medanos Community College and exposed him to the range of possibilities he could pursue for an education and career.

"They're always telling you to better yourself and try to go to college," Perez said.

Noe Mora, a dentist who took advantage of the program as a Stockton kid in the 1980s, remembers feeling behind in school when his family moved to California from Mexico, but said the migrant-education staff was always on his case and visited him and his siblings at home with textbooks and lessons.

"It was really a warm kind of atmosphere," Mora said. "We'd just sit at the kitchen table, they'd give us our books, and we'd do our thing."