Undocumented workers staying at home, fearing deportation

Dozens of men once lined up on the railroad tracks that sliced ​​downtown Freehold, New Jersey, waiting for work. Every morning, almost every undocumented male worker from Latin America is scooped up by a local contractor in a pickup truck for work painting, landscaping and removal of debris.

The truck has been in ruins over the past few weeks. On a gray morning in February, a worker named Mario from Mexico 20 years ago said it was the quietest he remembers.

“We have fears for the sake of the president,” said Mario, 55. His two sons are also illegally in the United States. One is on pavement and the other is on the construction of the house. “We're in difficult times,” he said.

The scene unfolds on the streets of Freehold at farms in California's Central Valley, at nursing homes in Arizona, Georgia Poultry Farms and Chicago restaurants.

President Trump has aired plans for a “massive deportation,” and the opening week of his second term brought immigration enforcement operations in cities across the United States, providing a daily drumbeat of arrests, although relatively limited in group chats between immigrants.

Fear grabbed America's undocumented workers. Many people are at home.

This impact is felt not only in immigrant homes and communities, but also in industries that rely on immigrants as a source of joyously inexpensive labor, such as housing construction, agriculture, senior care and hospitality. American consumers will soon feel pain.

“Companies across the industry know what happens when the workforce disappears: restaurants, coffee shops, grocery stores open, food prices rise, and everyday Americans who demand action.”

An estimated 20% of the US workforce are foreign-born, with millions of migrant workers missing legal immigration status.

Hundreds of thousands more are protected from deportation and have work permits under a program called temporary protection status. But Trump has already announced that he will phase out the program, starting with beneficiaries in Venezuela and Haiti.

Refugees from around the world who settled in the United States after fleeing persecution provided a stable pipeline of low-skilled workers for poultry plants, warehouses and manufacturing. But that pipeline could be drained since Trump shut down the US refugee program. Last month, a federal judge temporarily recovered the case while it was pending, but the program is stagnant and no refugees have arrived.

The White House did not answer questions about its deportation strategy and how it envisions the Trump administration to fill the gap left by the migrant workforce.

Most exposed industry leaders warn that their impact will be widely spread and have widespread consequences for consumers and employers.

PHI Vice President Kezia Scales, a national research advocacy organization focusing on long-term care for seniors and people with disabilities, said her industry is already facing a “recruitment crisis.”

“If immigrants are prevented from entering this workforce, or if restrictive immigration policies and rhetoric force them to leave the country,” she said.

Higher Cost Warning

During construction, independent estimates show that up to 19% of all workers are undocumented. Many states have a higher share. Their contributions are even more pronounced in housing construction, where industry leaders warn about acute labor shortages.

Nick Theodore, professor of urban planning and policy at the University of Illinois, University of Chicago, said: “Inevitably, production delays lead to slower work and increased costs,” Theodore said, which has a major impact on the construction industry and everyone involved, from developers to private homeowners.

In commercial construction, tightening the labour market will raise costs due to upward pressure on wages, said Zach Fritz, an economist with related builders and contractors at the National Construction Industry Association.

Group CEO Michael D. Bellaman said he welcomed many aspects of what was considered a “deregulation, a pro-agent agenda.” However, he and others in the industry have called for an overhaul of the immigration system, including expanding work visas.

Commercial buildings rely on many workers with temporary protected status, Veraman said. Some have been in the industry for decades.

Houston mayor John Whitmire said those who believe his city and country could thrive without the undocumented immigrant labor “not living in the real world.”

“We know who's paving our roads and building our homes,” Democrat Whitmire said.

The challenges of elder care

The senior care industry faces similar challenges. The growing demand for workers, and there are no native-born Americans born enough to do their jobs. These jobs are increasingly being met by immigrants in a variety of legal positions.

Adam Lampert spent 15 years in the Texas industry, managing the care of parents, primarily baby boomers. Business is thriving – and a tsunami is on the horizon, he warns. The US's total number of adults over the age of 65 will be 60 million in 2022, with a total of over 80 million by 2050.

Lampert, CEO of Dallas-based Manchester Care Home and Cambridge Caregivers, said:

Approximately 80% of his caregivers are foreign-born. “We don't go out looking for people who are immigrants,” he said. “We hire people who answer the phone. They're all immigrants.”

Every person he hires has permission to work legally in the United States, he said, but recruitment will be tougher in an industry where Trump's realised mass deportation is already struggling.

What is considered the formal senior care industry, consisting of people who can legally retain employment in the United States, has five million people working directly with their clients.

In New York, two-thirds of people working at home are foreign-born, as is the case with almost half of California and Maryland. He has joined countless grey markets, potentially worth billions of dollars, and is employed by families who employ home aides.

Individual home caregivers support the elderly with important activities in daily life and help them eat, dress, bathe and use the toilet. They escort them to doctor appointments and manage their medication. It's a low-skill, low-paid job, but requires a certain temperament, physical strength and patience.

If tens of thousands of undocumented caregivers are deported, experts say there will be more competition for fewer caregivers. The costs of home care will rise.

In many cases, green cardholders and US citizens have undocumented families. These mixed-stat families are nervous as immigrant crackdowns are intensifying.

Molly Johnson, general manager of Firstlight Home Care, a licensed California agency, has rapidly expanded the caregiver roster and expanded the caregiver roster since starting his business five years ago. All her workers have passed background checks and are either US citizens or legal permanent residents, she said.

However, recently, his mother was taken into custody by an immigration agent, which led to the sudden departure of one of his outstanding caregivers, a native-born American. The people she cared for were distraught.

“Unfortunately, we'll see more of this trickle-down effect,” Johnson said. “If it wasn't our caregivers, it was affected by their enforcement behavior.”

Testing for growers

During the Covid-19 pandemic, immigrant men and women employed at Deardorff Family Farms in Oxnard, California were employed in a vast field and food processing factories across the country, but the government was anointing “essential workers.”

Like other growers, Tom Deirdorf, who runs a vegetable farm, printed cards for his workers to show to law enforcement officials. Their immigrant status was not a concern.

“These people came to our country to do this job,” said Deardorff, a fourth-generation grower. “We're not just 'thank them.” We owe them the common decency and dignity that we are not threatened by the harsh government penalties. ”

Now, with Trump in the White House, many immigrants who harvest strawberries, vegetables and citrus fruits on this farm-rich Southern California stretch are facing the possibility of detention and deportation.

The US agricultural sector has been suffering from labor shortages for decades. Immigrants, primarily from Mexico and Central America, filled the void. Farmers say they can't find American-born workers to do intense work. According to USDA estimates, more than 40% of the country's crop workers are immigrants without legal status, but many have lived in the United States for decades.

“From ancient times, when all immigrants leave, people do these jobs,” says Janice Fein, professor of labor studies and employment relations at Rutgers University. “However, there is no guarantee that employers will raise wages or improve working conditions.”

She said there was a “labor market misunderstanding.” She said that money isn't the only reason why American citizens aren't in the farming sector, or care for the elderly, or home building. These jobs are “low wages, low lying, high explosions, high explosions, unless workers organize unions,” she said.

A three-day crackdown in California's Central Valley in January before Trump took office showed the potential impact of large-scale enforcement in agricultural areas. Absences skyrocketed after Border Patrol agents conducted a sweep at Bakersfield. According to the Fake Farmers League of the Growers Association, they stopped and arrested people along trafficked routes to Home Depots, gas stations and farms.

According to the league, about 30-40% of workers were unable to report to the field after a few days representing around 500 growers and packers.

Gregory K. Bovino, chief of Southern California's Border Patrol, called the operation “a overwhelming success,” leading to 78 arrests across the country, including some with “severe criminal history.” Farmworkers advocates said many other people with no criminal history were also rounded up.

Braces for more raids

Immigration and advocacy groups are calling for more attacks.

In Princeton, New Jersey, about 12 workers gathered on one rainy evening in February to meet with Register Enen Asion, a New Jersey group focusing on migrant workers, part of a vast organization called the National Dei Laurer Organization Network.

Workers had different immigration statuses. Some people had temporary protected status or other forms of protection. Others were not documented. They worked as drivers, pavements, restaurants and mechanics. One man who worked at the window factory said he was afraid that federal agents would come to his workplace. Others said they had been working fewer hours in recent weeks out of fear.

One man who said he chopped fish, fruits and vegetables in a small grocery store said, “What kind of white people are those who do these jobs?”