Farm worker housing in Whatcom County
(cont'd) “¿Como se dice ‘lluvia’ en ingles?” he asks.
How do you say “rain” in English? He hasn’t seen rain like this before. When they hung the clothes on the line, they had no idea it would be months before it would stop raining long enough to dry clothes outdoors. His family moved here last month from Fresno, Calif. to work in Whatcom County, the nation’s top berry producer. They have been migrating from farm to farm in the United States for eight years. The father said he doesn’t know how long they’ll stay. They travel to wherever the money is good. When the money isn’t good here anymore, they’ll move.
They’re not alone in their journey, and the struggles they and other migrant farm workers face are numerous. Many migrant workers have to support their families on less than $325 a week. In Washington State, more than 170,000 workers are responsible for the $5.3 billion the agriculture industry sweeps in annually. Yet despite their importance, the majority of farm workers and their families reside in unregulated and often dangerous living situations.
In Whatcom County, migrant farm workers make up about 3 percent (5,000 workers) of the farming population, according to the Office of Community and Rural Health data in 2000. However, only four of the 1,485 farms included in Whatcom County’s 2002 census data have licensed farm worker housing.
A licensed home should guarantee workers clean water, sewage, cleaning
facilities, adequate space and protection against the dangers of pesticides,
human trafficking and dangerous living conditions. However, because there
are only two inspectors for the entire state, thousands of farms are not
licensed. Some farms do not seek licenses due to cost or the struggle
with city or county regulations for water rights or building permits,
but many of them are hiding the conditions of their workers.
A house as a home
In America, the quintessential home sits in the suburbs surrounded by a trimmed lawn. Its two-story frame accommodates a garage for at least one car, a bedroom for the parents, separate bedrooms for each child, at least one bathroom, a kitchen and a dining room. But living in America doesn’t automatically grant everyone that dream.
The luxury to settle down isn’t a realistic part of the migrant life.
Inside the cabin, half-empty suitcases lying around are evidence of the migrant family’s need to travel.
The father said the modest little cabin meets their needs. The 6 and 8-year-old girls sleep in the entryway. Three rickety, white lawn chairs provide seating in the kitchen. In the back are two bedrooms; blankets, clothes, suitcases and toys clutter the one on the left, and the mother, father and 4-month-old baby sleep in the other. Many American’s might see the rooms as nothing more than storage closets. The wood planks that create sleeping surfaces take up the entirety of both spaces, leaving only a couple square feet of walking space. The mother said it gets cold at night sometimes, but other than that, it’s sufficient. Either way, they don’t plan to live there long.
Despite the shoddy condition of the home, it meets most licensing requirements. The ceilings are at least 7 feet tall, and the cabin is heated, and provides a private bathroom. It’s noticeable, however, that each sleeping quarter does not offer 50 sq feet of space per occupant, and despite regulations requiring it, no laundry services exist on site.
The family’s house is of decent quality compared to some Debra Fisher has seen. Fisher is the program manager for migrant farm worker housing at the Washington State Department of Health (DOH). She said some houses she has visited have gaping holes in the floor or roof, a non-functioning sewage system, no hot water or no electricity. —>
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