Imagine risking your life in hopes of being able to fulfill the American Dream. Then, upon your arrival, you end up working twelve hours a day, six days a week, and with the constant fear of being deported and sent back to the country you fled from in the first place. That is the life of my friend, a local Vermont dairy farmworker who graciously decided to let me interview him and retell his story for you to hear. For security reasons, he has asked that his identity remain anonymous, so for the purpose of this blog, I will refer to my friend as José.
A little under a year and a half ago, José departed from his beloved Chiapas, Mexico and set sail upon a journey from which he wasn’t sure he would return. As he put it: “it is a sacrifice, but I do it for my family.” However, this wasn’t the first time he embarked on such a journey. Between 2003 and 2004, José had already crossed the border to work on farms in Washington State and Florida, picking apples and oranges, respectively. He returned to Mexico a year later for personal reasons, but his financial situation in 2019 left him no choice but to return to the United States once again. He knew that going back was the only way for his family to get ahead in life and receive the financial support they desperately needed (even if that meant leaving his wife, four children, and two grandchildren behind).
Upon attempting to re-enter the United States in 2019, José spent 21 days hiding at the border, battling starvation and extreme thirst. At one point, José recounted that he spent over a week barely eating one meal a day, with no water, praying that he wouldn’t be found by the border police. The physical toll José endured was not the only price he had to pay to make it back in. In order to be successfully smuggled back into the country, José had to pay off what are known as “coyotes”, or people that migrants hire to help guide them across the border. José told me how there were two fees required for the coyotes to help him: one initial fee of 60,000 Mexican Pesos to get him to the border, followed by a payment of 120,000 Pesos once he made it to the other side. The conversion to U.S Dollars is approximately $8,716.52, a shocking amount considering there is no certainty of whether or not the crossing will be successful, or that he will even make it back alive. To add some additional context, in Mexico, the daily minimum wage is nearly 142 Pesos a day (around 7 Dollars), and this only applies if you have a formal job; street vendors or local farmers could make even less. This total payment of 180,000 Pesos could be an individual’s entire life savings, representing how vital and urgent their attempt to enter the United States truly is.
Upon asking José if he was happy here in Vermont, his immediate response was “Si, gracias a Dios”, followed by an explanation regarding his ability to support his family in the way he intended to. That said, he made it clear that he is not getting any younger, and it will soon become difficult for him to keep up with such a labor-intensive and strenuous lifestyle. Luckily, José did mention that he has no problems with his boss and is able to make enough to send remittances back to Chiapas on a monthly basis. Migrant workers often face very challenging cases of abuse (verbal and physical) in certain work environments, so it was reassuring to hear that he did not face this here in Vermont. That said, the emotional toll on José is not easy, as he also noted that he lives quite a lonely life. Despite having distant family members that live no more than twenty minutes away by car, José opts to not even seem them. He prefers to use the money that he would have to spend for somebody to drive him to see his relatives on saving it for his family. Instead of socializing, on his day off, José sleeps, watches soccer, and calls his children, which just at the sound of their names, made him smile from cheek to cheek.
José plans to stay in Vermont for 3 more years before deciding whether he has reached enough financial stability to return to Mexico. Despite his grueling work schedule and unimaginably difficult long-distance relationship with his loved ones, it was admirable to see how José carries his life. He fights hard, with an unwavering dedication to the ones he loves the most, no matter how difficult his current situation is. José’s story is remarkable, similar to the one of approximately 1,200 undocumented migrant workers that keep Vermont’s flourishing dairy industry alive. Let’s advocate for the well-being of those that put food on our plates and keep our local economy thriving. And next time you purchase a gallon of milk, drink your latté, or gobble down your Ben and Jerry’s, remember that somebody risked their life to put that dairy product in your hands.