A death pushed these farmworkers to protest. Now an investigation is underway

SUMAS, WASHINGTON — They walked along a dusty, country road, fields of ripe blueberries stretching for miles. This was a protest march to Sarbanand Farms, in this tiny town near the Canadian border, where a Mexican farmworker took ill last week. The man, Honesto Silva Ibarra, a 28-year-old father, died days later at Harborview Medical Center in Seattle. At the front of the march were some of the 70 farmworkers who were recently fired by the farm. Among them, Miguel Angel Ramirez Salazar, who has been coming to the U.S. for 15 years on the federal H-2A visa program. He’s also worked in Kentucky, Tennessee, the Carolinas and Virginia. “I love to come work here because it’s a way to help ourselves,” he said. “There are no jobs in Mexico.” Ramirez was one of 519 foreign workers hired to work at Sarbanand Farms this season on the H-2A visa. It allows employers to bring in foreign agricultural workers if there’s a seasonal labor shortage. The employer provides housing, transportation across the Mexican border and a fixed wage.

“It’s a blessing to be able to cross the border legally, without breaking the laws,” Ramirez said. “That makes us proud.” This is Ramirez’s third summer at Sarbanand. He’s seen problems before but stayed mum. “We were quiet,” he said. “We never wanted to talk, out of fear.” But when a fellow worker became seriously ill, Salazar said the men became concerned about his medical care. They called for a work stoppage to demand answers and to push for cold water in the fields and better food. A kitchen cook last year said she was fired after refusing to cook spoiled pork. On their pink slips, Sarbanand checked the box for insubordination.

“We stopped work for one day to improve our contracts,” Ramirez said. “I was just exercising my rights. But now I’m going home empty handed.” When the protesters reach the farm, two security guards stood at the gate. The air was hot, in the mid-80s, dusty from the fields and smoky from wildfires across the Canadian border. Joe Morrison, an attorney with Columbia Legal Services who represents the fired workers, asked for a manager. No dice. “Could you please tell them that the workers are in desperate circumstances?” Morrison said. “They’d like to get paid the money that they’re owed for their checks — and whether they’re going to get paid for transportation back to Mexico.” Morrison walked past the gate into the manager’s office. “I’m here to talk about the checks for the workers,” he called out. “Hello?”

Guard: “Sir, please exit the building.” Eventually, a manager said he would call Morrison later. Until then, workers are stranded without jobs and no money to get home. Two miles down the road, a neighbor opened his property to the fired workers. Volunteers turned out to help. They donated food, tents, a generator and supplies. They sent pizzas. Volunteer Mona Galindo chopped a watermelon and handed it out as the sweaty marchers returned to camp. “Yesterday I came with my sisters and we just saw the need,” she said.

The march was personal for Galindo. “I wanted to make a sign but I didn’t have time to make it, in memory of my mom and dad because they were migrants workers and never got to see justice,” she said. Washington is one of the top five states that uses the H-2A program, with nearly 14,000 workers brought in last year. But it’s a system that has sparked controversy and lawsuits. Rosalinda Guillen, a longtime farmworker advocate in Whatcom County and director of the non-profit Community to Community Development, firmly opposes the guest worker program. “The problem has always been that farmworkers are afraid to complain,” Guillen said. She said the program sets the stage for worker abuse and exploitation.