Foreclosure Victims: Day Laborers
These
are the worst of times, would-be
worker says in Spanish
GRATON,
Calif. (AP) February 15, 2008 The most
desperate men park themselves on corners
well before dawn, hoping for first dibs
on jobs.
Most
days, no one gets dibs no one gets
jobs.
Foreclosures are at record highs, home
sales are at record lows and skittish
consumers are cutting back on spending,
all of which means contractors,
construction crews and carpenters are no
longer hiring. Neither are landscapers,
cleaning services or homeowners.
Work,
never a given for day laborers in the
best of times, is almost nonexistent
these days.
"These
are the worst of times," would-be worker
Ramon De la Cruz said recently in
Spanish, noting that he had worked only
one day in the previous six.
De la
Cruz came here from Tabasco, Mexico
three years ago to earn money to provide
for his daughter, now 5. Only a year
ago, he could still make $500 a week.
But
Graton (pop. 1,815), sits in western
Sonoma County, which has been hit hard
by the housing downturn. Home loan
defaults nearly tripled from 2006 to
2007, while housing prices dropped by 22
percent, according to DataQuick, a real
estate data firm.
De la
Cruz and his friends at the Graton Day
Labor Center, where seven out of 70
workers might nab work on what passes
for a good day, are not sure what they
will do. Some have tried moving to other
states only to find that workers
everywhere are reeling under the fallout
from the nation's housing woes.
Not
since the weeks after Sept. 11, when the
entire nation froze in shock, have day
laborers been in a more precarious
position, according to workers and their
advocates.
Already
among the poorest, most stigmatized
workers in the country, the nation's
approximately 100,000 day laborers, many
here undocumented, are finding
themselves struggling as never before.
Without the proper documents, their job
options are limited to odd jobs for
cash. Without those, many can barely
feed themselves, let alone provide for
their families, here or in their native
countries.
And
they're facing more competition for the
few jobs that are left. As companies in
the housing and home improvement
industries have cut back on salaried
employees, many of those workers have
joined the day labor pool.
As a
result, advocates say, more day laborers
are becoming homeless, more are taking
risks for jobs that endanger their
health or don't pay and more are
spending their days haunting street
corners, where they are resented, even
reviled.
"Our
fear is that the economic downturn will
create a perfect storm where day
laborers will be scapegoated more than
they already are," said Chris Newman,
legal director of the National Day
Laborer Organizing Network. "They're
already deemed symbols of a broken
immigration system. What will happen
next?'
In the
last year, cities and states across the
country have been stepping up efforts to
drive away day laborers.
In
Phoenix, for instance, the county
sheriff began rounding up undocumented
day laborers even before a state law
took effect Jan. 1 punishing employers
who hire illegal immigrants. In
Oklahoma, a state law that took effect
in November makes it a felony to
transport, hire or shelter any one who
lacks the documents proving legal status
in this country.
Citizens who oppose illegal immigration
are taking their own action. In Houston,
members of U.S. Border Watch, a civilian
border patrol group, scribble down
license plate numbers at popular day
labor hiring spots and report would-be
employers to federal authorities.
Most
immigrants here illegally will try to
ride out the economic downturn, their
advocates say.
"They
know the situation is even more
desperate where they come from," said
Rene Saucedo, an organizer and former
director of the San Francisco Day Labor
Center.
Meanwhile, the lack of work, a hostile
environment and fear of deportation is
having a devastating effect, Saucedo
said. Some, she said, are taking to
drowning their sorrows in a bottle.
"Because they're barely surviving and
not able to provide for their families,"
she said, "a lot of them suffer from
depression and feelings of
worthlessness."
None of
this helps the workers or their
advocates fend off those who believe
they have no right to be in this
country.
In
towns like Graton, where day laborers
have a place to wait for work, residents
tend to be more sympathetic to their
plight.
The
Graton center, open since September, is
considered a model day laborer center.
It was organized after a year's worth of
community meetings, and built by day
laborers and community volunteers.
Volunteers hold English classes five
days a week and teach practical skills.
The
other day, 50 men and six women showed
up when the center opened at 7 a.m.,
most not expecting to find work, said
Juan Cuandon of Mexico City, a
27-year-old day laborer who is also an
organizer for the Graton Day Labor
Center.
The
workers, ranging in age from about 18 to
50, milled around folding tables,
drinking coffee, bundled fat against a
chilly morning. Some reminisced about
the days when they made up to $700 a
week.
Underneath their amiable chatter, the
workers were all very worried, Cuandon
said, speaking Spanish.
"Winter
doesn't help," he said. "The hope is
jobs will bloom again in the spring."