We’re still in SoCal “enjoying” the 115+°F temps (staying hydrated, lots of iced oatmilk lattes and popsicles and sparkling waters, pool time). The second to last leg of our trip took us on a route from Carmel to Oxnard via California’s historic Highway 101—historic because, for 600 miles of its length, 101 was laid atop The El Camino Real.
Side Note: In California, the name El Camino Real (“The Royal Road”) has resonated for generations. Extending over 600 miles from San Diego in the south to Sonoma in the north, El Camino Real was, in essence, California’s first highway, connecting 21 Franciscan missions. However, the road’s importance and its name recognition have far outlasted that of the missions it originally served.
Even after the missions’ decline, El Camino Real was a key link in the multi-state road system used by the Butterfield Stage Coach Company for travel from Texas to San Francisco. In the 1850s, El Camino Real’s prominence was supplanted by a new transportation technology: the railroad. Trains were a much faster and more comfortable way to move people and freight than were the old horse drawn wagons. By the 1890s, concern about the loss of El Camino Real’s historic significance prompted California history devotees to mark the route with the iron mission bells still in use today.
We’ve driven this route before and it’s of a significance for me that has become profound of late. On this route, one passes through “The World’s Salad Bowl.” I have a connection with this land, not just because it is farm land, not just because my primary diet is a ton of veggies (much of which travels from these same fields to my plate in Washington), and not just because farming, for me, still retains a level of romance such that I’m trying to cultivate my own garden and landscape at my home that utilizes organic, sustainable, and biodynamic practices. My connection is more personal.
More…interpersonal.
The soil in this Salinas Valley field is being prepared for one of many cool season vegetable crops grown here. Celery is an important crop in the Salinas Valley and is one of the many cool season vegetables that thrive in the cool, humid environment of this coastal region.
The marine influence of the Pacific Ocean flows into the Salinas valley and creates ideal conditions for crops such as cauliflower.
Salinas-Monterey Overview
Located in the central coast region of California, Monterey county encompasses the fertile, agriculturally important Salinas Valley. The valley, framed by mountain ranges on the east and west, runs the length of the county and is the site of most of the agricultural activities in the county. The north end of the Salinas Valley opens to the Pacific Ocean, source of the marine influence that cools the valley and makes possible the wide range of crops found here. With a total value of over $3 billion, Monterey county is the fourth highest agricultural producing county in California. The total land devoted to agriculture is approximately 1.4 million acres, and irrigated land is around 220,000 acres.
Monterey county agriculture is notable for its broad diversity of crops, many of which are grown year-round. Approximately 50 commodities in the county have a gross value of more than $1 million each. In addition, dozens of other products that gross less than this amount are important agricultural commodities of the country's. The highest percentage of acres is devoted to cool-season vegetables, such as artichoke, broccoli, cauliflower, celery, Asian vegetables, lettuce, and spinach. In the county's southern half, farmers grow warm-season vegetables, including carrot, pepper, potato, and tomato. Finally, Monterey county is home to a sizable wine grape industry and approximately one-third of the state's annual strawberry yield.
My dad grew hops in the fertile Yakima Valley of Washington state—an area and climate very similar to the Salinas valley (it’s not a stretch to imagine being in the Yakima Valley, near Moxee, while driving this route). Agriculture, despite recent advancements in technology and machinery, still requires massive amounts of human support. Farmers simply cannot be productive without a lot of people to help plant, tend, and harvest their crops. And it’s WHO those people are that have made our national discussion on immigration so personal for me.
Because, you see…the people our nation’s agricultural economy relies upon, the people who predominate working those fields we drove through on Highway 101, the people my dad NEEDED to employ and without whom we could not farm, those people…
…they don’t look like me.
The majority of hired farmworkers in California (84%) were born in Mexico.
Hispanic workers made up 96% of all farmworkers in California, with 65% of U.S.-born workers identifying as Hispanic.
Between 1/3 and 1/2 of all farmworkers in America reside in California, or roughly 500,000 – 800,000 farmworkers.
Approximately 75% of California’s farmworkers are undocumented.
National Labor Relations Laws (NLRA) do not apply to farmworkers.
Farmworkers are exempt from many Fair Labor Standards Act (FSLA) protections, including most minimum wage and hour guarantees, overtime pay, and mandatory breaks for rest and meals
In June of this year, the US Dept. of Labor finalized new rules and protections for farmworkers as well as accountability to those rules by prospective employers.
The national “conversation” about immigration is racist, ignorant, and hypocritical. For me, it’s personal. Growing up on a farm, my dad relied upon the migrating bands of families who would drive up and down the Western states following the growing and harvest seasons. Because of who my dad was as a humble, kind, and generous farmer, we had a consistent group of workers who always made their way to our farm for employment. I have a lot of memories about the incredible people who supported my dad to prep, tend, and bring in his crop of hops. And ALL of those memories are positive.
Without migrant workers, even those who remain undocumented, the nation’s agricultural economy would collapse within the span of months. Migrant workers are THE hardest working individuals in the world—hands down. From personal experience I can attest to the fact that the migrant workers I worked with were humble, kind, friendly, energetic, joyful, jovial, generous, and fun-loving. And they worked their ASSES off for my dad. They loved singing traditional songs from their homelands while they worked, and they loved their families. At NO point did I ever feel unsafe in the presence of our migrant families—in fact, they would tease us but be very patient as we attempted to speak Spanish with them, and sometimes they would share their authentic Mexican food with us when we took our breaks together.
I need to write more about an even more personal connection, especially to one man in particular, who became a special, then a profound presence in our family. So I’ll save that for a post within the next couple of weeks. For now, I wanted to share as I was reflecting down memory’s-lane through the Salinas V````````alley, these amazing workers don’t look like me because those who do look like me don’t want to do this work. I kid you not, EVERY time I see a farm, I think about its workers and who’s working them and my heart bleeds for them because I know how hard the work is; I know how humble and unassuming the workers are; I know how much the now white-collared owners of farms NEED migrant workers (as farms become more and more conglomerated, these wealthy land owners now rarely even get their hands dirty—instead, they monitor the commodity markets instead of the local weather); AND I know how they are being vilified by a political party for the sole purpose of stoking unfounded fears through a racist and bigoted narrative that is absolutely false.
I know, because for me, this is personal.
So please, if I could have a microphone for just a minute during any debate or retched speech about the “abhorrent characteristics” of those struggling to get into our country from our southern border, I would simply say: “Where are you getting your talking points because your talking points are NOT facts? (It’s a rhetorical question: everyone knows where these racist talking points are coming from!) Have you met a migrant farm worker? Have you seen the love they have for their kids and the joy they take in honest and hard work—work that no native-born American wants, let alone could even do past a couple of hours? Have you seen their physical and inner strength? Their kindness? Their humility? Their faith and devotion to their religion? Their joie de vivre?
And: Do you like to eat?
I guarantee you, except for the final question, their answers would be no. And THAT’s on them.
The issues challenging America (well, challenging America’s political leaders) could be solved very simply. It’s not the proverbial rocket science that either political party, but especially the one wearing the red hats, is making it out to be. Migrant peoples, the overwhelming majority of whom are seeking work on our nation’s farms, are NOT taking YOUR jobs. They’re not bringing in illegal drugs. They’re NOT from prisons or insane asylums or drug cartels. They are NOT!
They are human beings. They are human beings seeking better, safer lives, here. And we need them.
It’s personal. It has always been personal—and not just for me. If you eat, it’s personal for you too. And now you can’t unknow this.
Phil Ochs's song "Bracero" (from the 1960s) deals closely with the exploitative relationship between California farmers and Mexican workers in a very understandable way.
Phil Ochs's song "Bracero" (from the 1960s) deals closely with the exploitative relationship between California farmers and Mexican workers in a very understandable way.
Thank God you write the real truth about migrant farm workers! If only the ignorant would listen and learn! Daniel