Thread: TN-Work disappears for day laborers

Work disappears for day laborers
Immigrants find it harder to get by in slow economy
By CHRIS ECHEGARAY • Staff Writer • September 2, 2008

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The dawn has not yet arrived. Only the light from a gas station illuminates Victor Marquina, who walked in the darkness from his garage apartment. He is a day laborer looking for work.

Marquina sits on the curb, sipping coffee as others trickle in on a warm August morning. They wait, talking among themselves, but there is little work to be had. Marquina has no idea whether he will be chosen to work on this day. The same is true for the others.


Day laborers, berry pickers, taxi drivers and service industry workers like Marquina are the underbelly of the nation's economy, advocates and experts say, the underrepresented and the unwanted in American society. And now, they are hurting.

Nationwide, the economic slowdown has hit them hard — especially Hispanics. The real estate construction deceleration has spurred the loss of about 250,000 jobs in the past few years, according to the Pew Hispanic Center. For day laborers, just getting by has morphed into barely surviving, barely eating.

"They are the new Americans," says Megan Macaraeg, director of Middle Tennessee Jobs for Justice. "These workers are what makes the world go 'round. We have forgotten where we come from, who we are and the value of the work. They wash our cars, give us our rides from the airport and help in our building."

On any given day, according to studies, there are an estimated 120,000 day laborers — both legal and illegal — in the United States. They are bricklayers, painters, landscapers, anything their "patrones" — Spanish for bosses — want them to be.

During the height of the construction boom, they earned $12 or more an hour and held steady employment. Now, they earn much less working at places like carwashes or cleaning the seats and bathrooms at LP Field and Sommet Center.

Travel to find work
On this day, like most days, Victor Marquina is the first one to arrive at the station next to a Jack in the Box, a location that serves as an informal day labor hiring site.

The 45-year-old man is the senior member of this set of day laborers, having worked this corner for more than a dozen years. He's now a victim of the recession, earning just a portion of what he made in years past.

Marquina is also one of many day workers yearning for a steady job in Middle Tennessee's declining job market. Hours and even days go by before they get hired. On some days there are more than 50 people waiting and fewer than half get hired.

A day's work is the difference between eating a good meal and skipping one for this hidden demographic in Middle Tennessee's population.

"If there's no money, you can't go to the Chinese buffet," says Jose Valenciano, who waits for work at a gas station. "No work means it's the Maruchan noodle cups."

Almost every city and town in America has its corners and spots where people go to hire their day laborers. Every corner has its almost ritualistic dance, with the bosses who do the hiring and the police who shoo away the workers.

"I've been doing this for a lot of years," Marquina says in Spanish. "Things have changed quickly. There's no work. Before, we could pick who we want to work for. There were more jobs than people."

The hidden economy always has a segment of people who are struggling to make it. But in Nashville there's no clear picture on how many there are, says Sekou Franklin, assistant professor of political science at Middle Tennessee State University.

"When there's a recession it exacerbates what already is an existing struggle," Franklin says. "A recession brings more people off the shelf into that struggle. The working-poor population can't make a decent living, and we don't know how large that group is."

Some who can't find jobs here move on to other states. With little in the way of local job prospects, Marquina took a gamble and recently went to New Jersey to pick blueberries. It wasn't what he expected. The pay was $30 a day for backbreaking work from morning to evening, filling up crates as the sun beat down.

He asked a church in New Jersey for help and it paid his bus ticket back. On this day at Marquina's corner, people start to gather but only a handful are picked up for jobs.

An employer in a pickup truck hires a day worker and leaves quickly. A blue minivan with a sign on its door about building patios swoops in. Workers jump in and the van zooms away.

Shortly after 11 a.m., police tell the laborers to disperse. Once in a while, the laborers say, police come in undercover as employers in a truck or van and arrest them. Still, it's better than the alternative offered in their home countries.

Marquina, from El Salvador, was a victim of his country's civil war that prompted an exodus in the 1980s of many Salvadorans who were granted protection in the U.S. Marquina buried 12 relatives, including a brother, a sister and a son, who were victims of the guerrilla firing squads.

It was then he decided to make the trip to the U.S.

He's tried to get legal residency but had no luck despite paying for a lawyer. He jokingly refers to himself as a mojado, wet, the slang used to describe an illegal immigrant.

"I can't go back after that," he says. "I am here with my family and that's the principal thing. We ask God for stability but if we have to, we eat bread and water.''

They come for better life
Osman Aguilar has a boyish face that belies his life experiences. He's 18, working as a hired hand as a carpenter and doing other construction jobs. Aguilar has earned some good money despite being shortchanged by employers, he says. Somehow he manages to find an odd job here and there, making enough to eat and contribute his share of the rent.

Then, there's Anastacio, also 18, who wants only his first name used. Anastacio traveled to Nashville from North Carolina looking for work that was more promising than the $6.50 an hour he made cutting tobacco.

In separate interviews, both young men talk about the necessity to find consistent employment to help their families pay the bills. It's hard to believe both men, slight in height and weight, welcome the hard labor. Anastacio says he has routinely worked in the tobacco fields from morning to evening.

Anastacio says he'll be returning to North Carolina soon since work here has been sporadic.

Aguilar, however, likes it here. At 15, Aguilar decided, with a friend, to make the trek from Honduras to the U.S.

A strained relationship with his mother, having never met his father, and a vast connection with relatives in the U.S. made the decision that much easier.

He hitched rides, jumped on moving trains, and walked for days in Guatemala and Mexico before crossing over in 2005. He endured Hurricane Wilma's flooding; sleeping in the cold, wet soil. He gives a demonstration on how he crossed some choppy waters — walking sideways so the current wouldn't take him.

Aguilar speaks some English, learned in Honduran schools. He enrolled in high school here and dropped out. His reasons for dropping out vary: pressures from gangs, a misfit in classrooms where teachers were less than supportive, and some fighting.

"I think about it, and I have regrets," Aguilar says. "I kind of regret that I fooled around in class. I regret that I'm not studying, that I'm not in school anymore."

Listening to Aguilar speak, there's a sense of talent and intelligence that sets him apart. He mentions the noteworthy news that leaves him stumped: the arrest and shackling of a pregnant illegal immigrant.

"Why do that to a person? And other countries get criticized for violations of human rights?"

He also blames the election year for the bad economy and the lack of movement on immigration reform by Congress.

"What will they do without the workers?" Aguilar asks rhetorically. "Think about that. I just think people say things without thinking."

The 'new Americans'
Unlike in other cities, day worker centers that provide services for laborers have not taken hold in Nashville, and that's part of the problem with the exploitation, according to Macaraeg, the director of Middle Tennessee Jobs for Justice.

"There has to be a place that can help where they get advice," she says. "At the same time, this helps them have a voice."

Macaraeg, whose family emigrated from the Philippines, says her family was voiceless despite being people of means in their country. Her uncle was an editor at The Manila Times and his introduction to the American work force was a low-paying job cleaning office buildings. Her father, a doctor in the Philippines, was sent to Indian reservations to work and to redo his residency.

"It was a nomadic existence," Macaraeg says. "These people are just like we were. They are the new Americans."

A couple of blocks away from the gas station where day laborers wait, Somalian cab drivers have their coffee and tea at a Somali-owned shop waiting for a dispatcher to send them to their fares.

Macaraeg is in the middle of a fight for better working conditions for Nashville taxi drivers who are also low-wage workers. She also advocates for carwash workers who have been cheated by employers. The plight of the day laborers and taxi drivers is similar, Macaraeg says.

Back at the gas station after a long day of waiting, men listen to Juan Lugo, an evangelical Christian who opens a Bible and starts preaching to the laborers left behind. Lugo knows there's a recession but tells them God will solve these problems.

"God has taken us out from much worse," he says. "He can take us out of this recession."



http://www.tennessean.com/apps/pbcs.dll ... /809020340

BOO HOO. NOW GO HOME!!!!!

"They are the new Americans," says Megan Macaraeg, director of Middle Tennessee Jobs for Justice. "These workers are what makes the world go 'round. We have forgotten where we come from, who we are and the value of the work. They wash our cars, give us our rides from the airport and help in our building."

Hey Megan, pull your head out of the killer fog it's in. These people are not the new Americans, they are illegal aliens. Foreign nationals who have broken the law to come here.
And by the way, I wash my own car, drive myself to the airport and remodel my own house. You don't know what the hell you are talking about.

Day laborers, berry pickers, taxi drivers and service industry workers like Marquina are the underbelly of the nation's economy, advocates and experts say, the underrepresented and the unwanted in American society. And now, they are hurting.

I would use another word other than "underbelly"!

Oh so that's the USA's fault?
They REALLY think this nation would sink without them?
We would just adjust and unemployment for Americans would go down.

Nationwide, the economic slowdown has hit them hard — especially Hispanics. The real estate construction deceleration has spurred the loss of about 250,000 jobs in the past few years, according to the Pew Hispanic Center. For day laborers, just getting by has morphed into barely surviving, barely eating.

Good for the slowdown working! Sorry you are hungry but your government NEEDs to take care of you, not us taxpayers. You are making our American poor hungry. I pick us over you.

"They are the new Americans," says Megan Macaraeg, director of Middle Tennessee Jobs for Justice. "These workers are what makes the world go 'round. "If there's no money, you can't go to the Chinese buffet," says Jose Valenciano, who waits for work at a gas station. "

I'm speechless..

"I've been doing this for a lot of years," Marquina says in Spanish. "Things have changed quickly. There's no work. Before, we could pick who we want to work for. There were more jobs than people."

Not quick enough for this group!

"When there's a recession it exacerbates what already is an existing struggle," Franklin says. "A recession brings more people off the shelf into that struggle. The working-poor population can't make a decent living, and we don't know how large that group is."

It's not the working poor you're talking about? It's illegals!

Some who can't find jobs here move on to other states.
He asked a church in New Jersey for help and it paid his bus ticket back.

Well, it's that special, I wonder if they'd give me gas if I needed it?

In separate interviews, both young men talk about the necessity to find consistent employment to help their families pay the bills.

Oh to send the money to your country? So your family is separated?
Huh, I thought only our awful police do that to your families?
That's what your Protesters say. Get your stories straight

Aguilar, however, likes it here.

Wonderful! Glad you enjoy my country. It once was a better country but your friends and you steal our jobs and suck our nation dry of benefits that are for OUR poor.

"Why do that to a person? (handcuffing an illgal pregnant woman) And other countries get criticized for violations of human rights?"

He also blames the election year for the bad economy and the lack of movement on immigration reform by Congress.

"What will they do without the workers?" Aguilar asks rhetorically. "Think about that. I just think people say things without thinking."

You (should) have NO RIGHT HERE!!! You are an illegal!!
If you had an education, you could figure your simple questions out!

Originally Posted by FedUpinFarmersBranch

Work disappears for day laborers
Immigrants find it harder to get by in slow economy
By CHRIS ECHEGARAY • Staff Writer • September 2, 2008

"They are the new Americans," says Megan Macaraeg, director of Middle Tennessee Jobs for Justice. "These workers are what makes the world go 'round. We have forgotten where we come from, who we are and the value of the work. They wash our cars, give us our rides from the airport and help in our building."

Ah, the trials and tribulations that come with being rich. Who's going to clean the sterling platinumware? Scrape the bird poop off the garden statuary or run down to the wine cellar while I light my cigar and place my french-slippered feet on top of my red leather Ottomon?

Originally Posted by WorriedAmerican

Day laborers, berry pickers, taxi drivers and service industry workers like Marquina are the underbelly of the nation's economy, advocates and experts say, the underrepresented and the unwanted in American society. And now, they are hurting.

I would use another word other than "underbelly"!

Oh so that's the USA's fault?
They REALLY think this nation would sink without them?
We would just adjust and unemployment for Americans would go down.

When American citizens get thrown out of work, both the Democrats and Republicans have a good laugh, but now their precious Hispanics our hurting and we tax-paying citizens are expected to empty our pockets and have a good cry?

"They are the new Americans," says Megan Macaraeg, director of Middle Tennessee Jobs for Justice. "These workers are what makes the world go 'round. We have forgotten where we come from, who we are and the value of the work.

ILLEGAL ALIENS ARE NOT AMERICANS YOU FOOL! I dont know where Megan Macareg came from, but this is America and we dont need illegal aliens to take our jobs away. We need to DEPORT ALL ILLEGALS. HIRE AMERICANS!

butterbean, I think that this Macaraeg person is seeing the New Americans, along with their anchor babies as supplementing an overworked American citizenship, while overlooking the problem that so many millions of Americans are out of work and getting desperate.
Meanwhile, the kids of these illegals are given everything and more than American kids, and she and all the others spouting nonsense about filling jobs Americans won't do is making me wonder what drugs they are on.
If anyone believes that a kid of illegals who worked picking crops, after given an education in this country at our expense, would dream of going out and picking crops? Guess what: more illegal aliens to do the "work Americans won't do."

So glad to here he didn't like it in New Jersey. How about not like the U.S. prospects at all and going home.

Come back legal or not at all.

Jobs With Justice Coalition
http://www.jwj.org/coalitions.html

Middle Tennessee Jobs with Justice
Megan Macareg
Middle TN JwJ
1016 18 th Ave S
Nashville , TN 37212
Tel: (615) 321-9066; (615) 227-5070
Fax: (615) 320-8897
midtennjwj@jwj.org

drop her a line