Fresh Fruit, Broken Bodies: Migrant Farmworkers in the United States

The Hiddenness of Migrant Bodies

This chapter opens with a discussion of the invisibility of migrant workers. Many people in Washington State’s Skagit Valley are unaware that migrants live in the area. The erasure of migrants enables and perpetuates their suffering and mistreatment. Improving the plight of migrants demands seeing their suffering and the structural inequalities that cause it. This applies both to white residents and to migrants themselves. Inequities must also be recognized as socially constructed and changeable, rather than normative, natural, and deserved. The suffering of migrants has been normalized by everyone involved, including migrants. Understanding how this occurred is key to fostering equality and respect.

Symbolic Violence

Holmes draws on Bourdieu’s concept of symbolic violence to explain how inequalities become normalized and are therefore unchallenged even by the oppressed. Symbolic violence is “the naturalization, including internalization, of social asymmetries” (157), which occurs “through doxa (mental schemata) and habitus (historically accreted bodily comportments)” (157) that stem from the social world and thus make social orders seem natural. Many see oppression as natural because it fits their mental schemata. As Holmes aptly puts, “symbolic violence acts within the process of perception, hidden from the conscious mind” (157). All social actors in a particular field must buy into inequality to maintain and perpetuate it. Those who endure symbolic violence implicitly consent to the violence by virtue of being in the field. The inequalities in particular fields become invisible and are taken for granted by all parties.

Citizenship, Culture, and Difference

Exclusionary terms describing Mexican migrants reinforce hierarchical social structures. For example, “foreigner” signals that migrants belong somewhere other than the US, while “Mexican” creates a dichotomy between Mexicans and Americans (“them” and “us”). Holmes’s conversation with J.R., a white resident of Central California, illustrates how these exclusionary structures impact vulnerable individuals. J.R. described beating a Mexican in his youth because he saw the person as “‘an endangerment to us [and that the person] was taking farmworkers’ jobs’” (159). When his wife corrected him by pointing out that white workers no longer wanted to be pickers, J.R. replied, “‘He was different than me’” (159). He then said Mexicans taxed the welfare system and refused to integrate into American culture. The latter was especially troublesome for J.R.: “‘That’s why the Mexicans are having problems […] they don’t want to change. They want to keep their culture. You’ve got to get people blended right away’” (160).

Hybridization underscores the maintenance and transformation of immigrant practices through contact with different people and places. The Triqui migrants Holmes studied, however, didn’t want to remain in the US in the long term, nor did they want to become American citizens. Rather, the wanted to work seasonally in the US, live in San Miguel, and remain Mexican citizens. They want permission to work in the US without having to cross through the desert. Current border policies are ineffective. They don’t keep migrants out. Instead, the militarization of the border has prompted Triqui migrants to remain in the country for years at a time to avoid the dangers and costs of crossing annually.

Race, Place, and Exclusion

Perceptions of migrant workers vary from person to person and depend on two important factors: the social position of the perceiver and that person’s proximity to migrants. For example, most white residents in Washington State’s Skagit Valley considered all people of Latin American descent Mexican regardless of their citizenship. Those at the top of the farm labor hierarchy—executives and crop managers—generally recognized differences among US-born Latinos, mestizo Mexicans, and Indigenous Mexicans from Oaxaca. People who worked directly with migrant laborers, such as crew bosses, made further distinctions among the Oaxacans, recognizing Mixtecs and Triquis. These social categories impacted perceptions of farm laborers and normalized the social suffering of migrant workers.

Holmes found that racism was rampant in the Skagit Valley, on and off the Tanaka farm. High school students, for instance, formed a group called Whites Against Mexicans (WAM), which attracted many non-white students, including students of Asian descent. Some white students complained that Mexicans flaunted their heritage through their clothing and hairstyles. Others called them gangsters. One student claimed that “Hispanic” was a term of respect, while “Mexican” was a pejorative synonymous with dirty—and stated that Mexicans dressed better than him yet referred to them as filthy. This perceived dirtiness encompassed their bodies, clothing, homes, and any settings they occupied:

‘Now, there’s a town out here called Dos Palos. They had a beautiful setup there, you know, work camps […] It was filthy. But it was them. All you could see in there was fast-food wrappers, fast-food cups. They’d stop off here at the old Taco Bell and whatever and buy their food and go on eating and then drink cervezas, mucho cervezas, oh, just keep it coming’ (164).

References to dirty Mexicans stem partly from the realities of living and working on farms. Dirt roads surrounded the shacks at the Tanaka farm, and dust coated everything, including workers. Real and perceived dirtiness fed into social hierarchies, symbolically distinguishing US Latinos, mestizo Mexicans, and Indigenous Mexicans from Americans. Words like Hispanic, Mexican, Mexicano, Oaxacan, Mixtec, and Triqui also divide people along citizenship and linguistic lines. Particularly telling is the characterization of mestizo Mexicans as “regular Mexicans,” which implies that Indigenous Mexicans are irregular. In addition, dirtiness and cleanliness have racial and class implications—that white people can afford to buy soap and have access to indoor plumbing, unlike migrant workers.

Blamed for Suffering

Each group within a hierarchy believes that the groups below them deserve of their plight. This belief extends beyond the confines of farms. For example, the white residents of Washington State’s Skagit Valley and California’s Central Valley believed that Mexicans were uneducated because they were lazy. Blaming the oppressed for their oppression omits critical factors linked to suffering. For instance, Triqui people are uneducated because they lack educational opportunities. Holmes’s fieldwork contradicts the stereotype of the lazy Mexican. He witnessed Triqui pickers working quickly and in harsh conditions to meet quotas at weigh in. While some people claim migrants are lazy, others explain their suffering as a choice. According to John from Tanaka farm, Triqui workers don’t want to take lunch breaks. Migrants are also blamed for the suffering of others. The myth that they displaced white farm workers, for instance, is widespread in farming communities.

Normalization

This section addresses the normalization of suffering. White residents in Washington State’s Skagit Valley and California’s Central Valley normalized the suffering of migrants for varied and sometimes contradictory reasons. Habituation is central to normalizing suffering. Simply put, people become accustomed to seeing migrants live and work in poor conditions. Some justify suffering by pointing out that the poor conditions at labor camps are better than conditions in Mexico. Conversely, others imagine that migrants have lavish homes in Mexico and justify the suffering as temporary: “‘They all have pools and big houses in Mexico and California and are just here for the summer’” (170). John cited social mobility as another justification for suffering, wrongly asserting that migrant families work their way out of agriculture in three generations. In addition, segregation and labor hierarchies on farms normalize suffering. At Tanaka farm, for example, the white teenagers employed as checkers were instructed not to have conversations with pickers to avoid biases during weigh-in.

Naturalization

Many farmworkers believe that Indigenous Mexicans are naturally suited to doing the hard work of berry picking. One woman Holmes interviewed claimed that Oaxacans “‘like to work bent over’” (170) and that mestizo Mexicans “‘get too many pains if they work in the fields’” (170). A crew boss at the Tanaka farm described the Triqui as “‘tough brutes’” who were well-suited to the hard work of picking berries. He then added that they were too short and slow to pick apples and that they didn’t like ladders. Another crew boss described the Triqui as perfect for berry picking because they’re “‘lower to the ground’” (171). The perceived shortness of Triqui people, then, is the lens through which others enact symbolic violence against them. Their “natural” characteristics signal that they belong in the fields picking berries. In addition, Triqui people are described as overly sensitive to pesticides. Thus, their illnesses aren’t due to spraying but due to their own bodily shortcomings.

Internalization

Those who endure symbolic violence become complicit in it through internalization. Many Triqui believe that they’re naturally stronger and have more endurance than white people. For example, Holmes spoke with Triqui pickers after viewing a video about the dangers of pesticides. One picker concluded that pesticides only affect white people, whose bodies are “‘delicate and weak’” (73). This picker then contrasted delicate white bodies to Triqui bodies, which are “‘strong and aguantamos [hold out, bear, endure]’” (173). Many Triqui took pride in their strength and resilience.

Body Position in Labor

Occupations performed at desks are symbolically associated with the mind. By contrast, those executed while walking or standing are linked to the body and are typically held in lower regard. Jobs that require bending in the dirt are the most reviled. These observations hold true at the Skagit Valley farm, where people at the top of the labor hierarchy hold desk jobs, mid-level supervisors walk and stand, and low-level workers bend over. Pickers aren’t treated with respect. Furthermore, picking isn’t a prestigious job, despite being one of the most important on farms. Holmes describes witnessing the abuse of Triqui pickers, who were “treated as subhumans on several occasions” (175).

Resistances and Refusals

Despite the power of normalization and naturalization, some people question the hierarchies that exist on US farms. Some white residents in the Skagit Valley area, for example, recognized the treatment of migrants as unfair. Being escorted to the front of the line at the bank while Mexican migrants waited for hours in line made them feel guilty. Some Triqui people engaged in forms of resistance such as drinking Mexican Rey sodas rather than sodas made by multinational corporations such as Pepsi and Coca-Cola.

The Strike and the Memo

This section describes an unplanned strike that occurred during Holmes’s second summer at the Tanaka farm. A decrease in pay weight and the firing of workers who failed to meet the minimum weight prompted pickers to walk out of the fields. Whistling, a way to communicate discontent in Triqui culture, signaled the start of the walkout. With the help of a social worker, Triqui pickers created a list of approximately 20 grievances, including low pay, poor working conditions, racist treatment, the lack of breaks, and unfair promotion practices. They met with farm executives, who were surprised by the racism on the farm. Management yielded to some of the pickers’ demands, instituting a modest pay raise and 30-minute lunch breaks—and instructing crop managers to treat all workers respectfully. The Triqui considered this collective action a success. However, management rescinded the pay raise and lunch breaks the following summer. This shows that challenging market conditions force even ethical growers to remain complicit in harmful labor practices.

Social Change and Social Reproduction

The ethnicity and citizenship hierarchy in American agriculture largely goes unchallenged. Farm hierarchies are normalized and naturalized, which fosters their reproduction. Segregation and linguistic and social differences allow some people to victimize others with impunity. Migrants are often blamed for their suffering. People perceive their low position in the hierarchy as natural because of their ethnic, bodily traits. Understanding how hierarchies are constructed is a critical step to dismantling the inequality that produces suffering.