en espanol
Ivan Soto
Blocker
I learned English almost by myself. I would practice an hour and a half every day after work. A lot of people prefer to listen to music or sleep, or kill time with other things, but that is what I did. I learned a lot of words every day that I tried to keep in mind. And I talked to American people. If you want to learn, you can little by little. I tell everybody we’re here in the United States, so we ought to speak English.
My dad was the first of us to come here 10 years ago. The next year he came with my mother. Then two years later all of us came. Now we work together in one crew: my mom, my dad, my brothers, my dad’s sister, and my cousin. It’s nice to work all together with your family. Sometimes when we are very busy and have a lot of weeds, we’re silent. We concentrate and just think about what we are doing. When we are not too busy, we have a little bit of time to be talking while we work. We talk about too many things—things that we did a long time ago or things about Mexico. It helps a lot, but the work still is hard, especially when it’s hot.
Beatrice Gutiérrez
Blocker, Crew Leader
My day starts at about 4:50 in the morning. I get up and make some tortillas. Then I make some tacos to take out to the fields for our 10 o’clock break. We like to eat our lunch then so that we can come back here at noon during lunch and just rest for an hour.
I’m the only woman in our crew, but I’m the crew leader. I get the report of where we’re going to work before I drop off my kids to catch their school bus. Mostly everybody on our crew is a family member from my husband’s side of the family. We are blockers. We block the kale and romaine and red leaf lettuce and make sure the plants have enough distance to grow, so when they’re harvested they are big enough to cut and send out to the stores. And the red beets, cilantro, parsley, and onions we weed.
Since I’m the crew leader, I figure out how much we’ve done at the end of the day and divide it up between everybody in our group. I’ll say we finished 15 or 20 rows each at $2 or $3 a row. I add it all up, and sometimes we make $70 or $80 per person for one day. At the end of the week, we have something. Some weeks, among my husband, son, and me, we can make $1,200 as a family and save $600 of it.
Jeff Zellers
Farm Owner, Grower
This is not your typical grandparents’ farm from the turn of the century, with 5 cows, 5 pigs, and 10 chickens running around. Economically, we have a very narrow window in which to do a lot. We have a huge investment in the facilities, the equipment, and in the housing for these people. Things have got to click and work. We house about 150 people who work for us, plus their families. Each year the Ohio Department of Health licenses our labor camps. It can be a challenge because we must provide a certain amount of square footage per person. Ideally, you want both a husband and wife to work if you are providing housing. So we have to be aware of the economics of this.
Cyndee Farrell
Principal, Marlington Elementary School
We’re a very small district, and we all have to wear many hats. So I’m both the principal of the school and the director of the migrant program. I admire these kids. And despite their challenges, moving back and forth, dealing with two languages, they don’t seem stressed. I don’t think we give these kids enough credit. You might look at their score on a reading proficiency test, but when you consider what they deal with in the real world, they know a lot. That’s not a test score.
Pat Moore
Volunteer, Neighbor, Community Member
When I heard that they were asking for volunteers at the Migrant Center to ride the bus for the children’s field trips, I went down and put my name on the list. At that time, Larry Deiner was the head of the summer programs. Larry had total command of those kids. Of course, he could speak Spanish, too. I remember at the railroad crossings he would never shout. He would just say very calmly, almost with an English accent, “Children, now we must be quiet. This is a railroad crossing. Please, no talking.” He wouldn’t go until they were totally quiet, and as soon as we crossed over the tracks, they would scream and holler and let loose, and that was fine. Every now and then he would take the bus down a road where there were sprinklers in the field with their spray crossing into the street. He would never warn the children to close their windows, and they would always get a mouthful of water. They would scream and holler and chant, “Larry, Larry.” He had a great sense of humor. Every once in a while he would say something like, “Well, thank you, Alberto. That makes my heart very happy.” The kids would just love that. All the kids had a great respect for Larry. They called the bus “the Larry Bus.”
Sister Teresa Ann Wolf, OSB
Migrant Pastoral Care
I think many times when people hear statistics of how many Latinos are in the U.S. or in Ohio or in Stark County, they are amazed. They simply don’t believe it because they don’t see these people. There is a tendency for Hispanics to be invisible. Sometimes it has to do with past history. They have had some very painful experiences. They suffer from prejudice, so naturally they want to escape notice. Most of them fear that if they make a complaint, they will be deported or something bad will happen to them.
Because I have worked with Latinos in Arizona, Latin America, Minnesota, Wisconsin, and now in Ohio, I feel that in many ways I’m a migrant, too. I love what I do; I wouldn’t want to do anything else. This is fulfilling work. These are good people, and we are growing together. It’s an important, exciting ministry of the Church and much-needed. We cannot be intimidated and let migrants and recent immigrants be pushed further into the margins and become even more invisible. They have a right to live their lives with respect and dignity. They have a right to be seen and heard.
Georgina Soto
Daughter of Migrant Family
The first time we came here, I was five years old. It was pretty hard to move here. I remember it like yesterday. I was afraid because I would have to stay alone in the house by myself when my family was working. We didn’t know about Head Start then, so I just stayed home the whole day.
One day the couple across the street, Bob and May Nichols, came over and said if we needed any help to call them. After awhile, whenever we had a cookout or a party, we’d invite them, and May would bake a cake and bring it over. Or sometimes when we’d cook something special, we’d take it over to them. And that’s how we became friends.
The first couple of years it was pretty hard for me to move back and forth, but now I don’t care where I live—here or there—because I have friends in both places.
Cipriano Contreras
Crew Leader, Cutting Crew
It’s hard being in another country with a different culture and to keep your own culture with your family, despite all the influences. That is one of the things that I value the most: to pass on the Mexican culture and values to my children. The most important thing for me, as a father, was that my daughter, Erika, my only daughter, was married in white, in a church, and she was sure about her decision. Of course, nothing is perfect in life, and at the reception the band got drunk and stopped playing, and there were other problems. But it didn’t matter. That wasn’t very important to me. The most important thing for me was that my daughter was happy to get married and did it the right way.
Of course, time goes by and things may turn out differently. And it’s never the way one thinks from the beginning. But I am proud that we had a proper Mexican wedding in Ohio and that I raised my daughter right. I’ve seen many of the children here grow up and start working in the fields. Now both my sons and my daughter work for the Zellers. This year will be ten years that we’ve been coming here. Ten years. These are short words to describe a long time.
Katie Giancola, M.D.
NEOUCOM Graduate, Class of 2006
When I was in Guadalajara, I did a mission trip through a church with 39 Mexicans I did not know beforehand. We went down to the southern state of Oaxaca. I was scared to death. I had no idea where I was going or what I was getting myself into. We worked for 10 days with people in the mountains, and it was the most incredible experience in my life. The third day I was there, I celebrated my twenty-first birthday. They threw me a surprise party under a bunch of mango trees, and I celebrated with a hundred Mexicans I didn’t know. They brought me a decorated cake and balloons and sang to me and told me to lean my head over the cake and take a bite out of it. I thought it was strange, but they kept chanting for me to do it. And when I finally did, they pushed my face into the icing. I learned it’s a Mexican birthday tradition, the mordida. I’ve never felt so much love poured out by a group of people. These were some of the nicest people I’ve ever met, and they made me feel so welcome.
Eric Romero
Washhouse Worker, Student
Basically, I’m trying to balance two cultures. I’m not trying to go for one and leave the other one behind. I’m not actually trying to live the American dream. I don’t really think it exists. Sometimes others will say to me, “You’ve become Americanized now, and you think you’re better than us.” But I don’t believe that. I don’t want people to think that. That’s why the number-one thing I try to do is to help others if they need it. There’s always that one person, though, that tries to bring you down. But you can’t let one person bring you down, ‘cause there are three other ones that will help you. You have to be optimistic. I got this from my parents.
Beatrice Gutiérrez
Blocker, Crew Leader
We’ve been coming to the Zellers farm for 12 years now. They always give us the same place. That’s what we like about it. We feel more comfortable not having to move around every season. On Saturdays our work ends at noon. As soon as it ends, we come and take a shower. Sometimes we go shopping. I love to go to garage sales in Hartville or to Wal-Mart. They have everything cheaper there. On Mondays I’ll go to the Migrant Center thrift sales. Wednesdays I usually go to Bible study at the Migrant Center. Sundays I still get up early, seven at the latest, so I can start washing all the clothes. I usually don’t finish until 3:00 or 4:00 in the evening. And when I’m done, I sit down and rest, and I don’t want nobody bothering me.
May Nichols
Neighbor, Community Member
Every year when the Sotos return in March, they always bring us a gift from Mexico. One year they brought Bob one of those big round sombreros. Another year they brought a poncho. Last year they brought us a Mexican blanket that fits Bob’s bed, and it’s as soft as anything could ever be. In the wintertime he wraps up in that and doesn’t even know the snow’s on the ground. It’s so warm.
Until we moved here to Hartville, I’d never met a migrant worker. I didn’t know what they were. Never heard of them. I never dreamed that I would have the opportunity to meet people of a different culture like this and learn to know them and get to be close with them. But they moved right across the street from me, and pretty soon I learned they were nice people. It’s really something. I was always told when you quit learning you quit living.
I’d take any one of them, keep them forever, long as I live, if they wanted to stay here with me and Bob. They’re special people—just unexplainable, special people.
Maria Consuelo Lopez
Former Head Start Employee
We don’t close our doors at Head Start until the middle of October, until the last family leaves. We want to be sure that somebody’s here to take care of the kids. Those last days, when the families start packing up and leaving, are kind of sad. Each night another house or trailer goes dark. One camp and then another closes down, until one night you’re driving down Duquette and the whole street is dark and gloomy. But I still feel good because I know at the end of the season a kid learned the alphabet or learned how to write his name—and that’s how I know I’m doing my job.
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