How the current immigration crackdown is impacting food and farmworkers
So far, 2025 has been an unprecedented year of open hostility toward food and farmworkers, many of whom are immigrants, both documented and undocumented. While the last few years saw incremental progress toward improved conditions for workers — like the long-awaited advance of federal heat protections and new oversights on the scandal-ridden H-2A worker visa program — those issues have been almost completely shoved aside in favor of an immigration policy advertised as “mass deportations now” on the 2024 presidential campaign trail.
Undocumented workers have been increasingly subject to raids and detentions by Immigrations and Customs Enforcement (ICE) both at home and the workplace. Alongside executive orders that have revoked legal status for many documented workers, these raids have intensified a climate of fear and repression that has long kept farmworkers and other laborers in the food system quiet about the conditions they face, as well as cut off from medical care, legal help and other critical services. And with so many workers gone or hiding at home, those that remain are expected to pick up the slack, making some of the most dangerous jobs in the food system even worse.
ICE raids target worksites, communities
Around 40 percent of farmworkers in the U.S. are undocumented. The numbers are similar in many other parts of the food system, especially meatpacking, where undocumented immigrants fill an estimated 23 percent of jobs. That left some big questions about how farmers and others in the food and agriculture industries might be impacted by the new administration’s immigration policies, especially given a years-long labor shortage that was already making it difficult to find workers. For the most part, farmers supported the Trump administration in the election, with many believing the president’s claims that he would spare farmworkers from promised mass deportations, focusing instead on “dangerous criminals.”
And for the first few months of the administration, that assumption largely held: Early ICE actions appeared to be targeted operations against activists rather than broad sweeps (with the exception of one allegedly untargeted raid on a Vermont dairy farm in April). When union farmworker and immigration activist Alredo “Lelo” Juarez Zeferino was seized by ICE in Washington in March, and workers associated with the United Farm Workers were arrested in New York in May, many believed the actions were intended to intimidate workers and stall organizing efforts.
In June, however, that changed thanks to frustration within the administration that the agency wasn’t meeting its deportation goals of 3,000 people per day. To meet those objectives, ICE agents began aggressively targeting worksites, visiting farms and packing sites in California and a meatpacking plant in Nebraska on June 10. Those raids generated an immediate flurry of complaints from farmers and the food industry, who lobbied the Department of Agriculture and the president to hold to earlier promises of an exemption.
Initially, industry pushback appeared to make a difference: President Trump announced on social media that he was reconsidering the policy. But any hope for a pause was stifled by representatives from the Department of Homeland Security (DHS), which oversees ICE, who made it clear that there would be no exemption for raids on farms and other worksites.
Since then, there have been a few more high-profile ICE actions on farms, including one chaotic raid in California that terrorized hundreds of workers and resulted in the death of one man, Jaime Alanís, who fell more than 30 feet from a greenhouse roof.
While the pace of major raids on farms and other food worksites seems to have slowed, smaller raids are still ongoing, targeting workers on their way to farms, at warehouses and other jobsites. And the effects of the raids have already been profound. Families of workers at raided sites often have no information about whether their loved ones have been detained, where they are being held or whether they’ve been deported, and seeking that information out often puts workers’ families at additional risk. For communities that have already long been subject to ICE raids at home and out in their communities, work sites are now another place immigrants — regardless of legal status — fear being singled out because of their appearance, with one worker interviewed by the Guardian describing feeling like they are “being hunted like animals.” As a result, many farmworkers and their families report hiding at home, which has in turn left businesses and streets in many neighborhoods empty.
Families of workers at raided sites often have no information about whether their loved ones have been detained, where they are being held or whether they’ve been deported, and seeking that information out often puts workers’ families at additional risk.
Raids have also had a big impact on farms and other businesses: Across California, farmers have reported that as many as 70 percent of their workers have been missing in the wake of the raids. One preliminary analysis shows agricultural employment declined 6.5 percent nationwide between March and July of 2025, reversing a trend of increased hiring in the sector. Even if workers were to come back eventually, those temporary disruptions have big consequences on fruit and vegetable farms where crops might have a harvest window of only a few days. In a tough farm economy, even one missed harvest for a high-value crop is enough to put some farms at risk of going under. Some farmers have already reported that they’ve reduced plantings in response to raids, which could quickly cut production of labor-intensive crops in areas like Florida.
Those disruptions have been equally bad at other raided food sites. One manager at the raided Nebraska plant stated that it was nearly impossible to run the facility after the loss of 107 employees in a single raid: “We lost every supervisor out there. If you ran a machine or checked temperatures or did anything important, you’re gone.” The fear of further raids hasn’t just had a chilling effect on remaining staff’s attendance: It has also made hiring more workers difficult. And for those who do show up, the pressure to keep up production threatens to make meatpacking — already one of the most dangerous industries for workers in the country — even more risky.
Visa revocation
Beyond crackdowns on undocumented immigrants, the Trump administration has also pursued a number of other avenues to limiting who qualifies for citizenship or removing legal status for immigrants. While some of these measures, like overturning birthright citizenship for people born in the United States, may not make it past the Supreme Court, at least one already has: stripping thousands of Temporary Protected Status, or TPS.
TPS is a provisional authorization for people coming from countries that have been devastated by war, natural disaster or other problems that would make it unsafe to return. Under TPS, the Biden administration established the special Parole Process for Cubans, Haitians, Nicaraguans, and Venezuelans (CHNV), and allowed more than 500,000 people from those countries into the United States.
As FERN detailed in its profile of Haitian workers at a Greeley, Colorado, meatpacking plant, employers in the food industry were quick to capitalize on the influx of workers, offering jobs to those fleeing their countries and creating immigrant communities in towns like Greeley overnight. In many cases, those workers were housed in cramped motels and given some of the most dangerous jobs on the floor, with the local union accusing JBS of trafficking the workers on broken promises of a better life.
It was a flawed program, but it wasn’t the labor abuses that made the CHNV recipients a target: Broad anti-immigrant sentiment and outright racism, including the widely memed false claim that Haitian immigrants were eating pets, led to widespread backlash against the expanded program. Even before the Trump administration took office, DHS announced that many of the CHNV recipients wouldn’t be granted extensions. Under Trump, DHS moved to fast-track that process and revoked TPS for the Biden-era CHNV recipients by April 2025, putting at least 500,000 at risk for deportation.
As workers have their TPS revoked, their employment authorization is also rescinded. That’s led to mass firings at meatpacking plants and other workplaces. In one plant, more than 200 employees were informed by managers that they had been terminated due to a change in their work authorization. In that plant, CHNV recipients made up about 10 percent of the workforce.
For many workers with TPS visas, losing their jobs has also meant losing their housing. Without those two things, applying for any other form of legal residence in the U.S. is nearly impossible, leaving few options aside from deportation.
What’s next for immigrant workers in the food system?
The Trump administration’s aggressive actions to expel immigrants from public life in the U.S. have been paired with some much-needed public outcry recognizing that the food and farm labor force relies heavily on foreign workers. But it’s hard to interpret the President’s vague assurances that his administration will “work something out” to prevent farmers from losing the highly skilled workers they’ve employed for decades — particularly when others in the administration have pledged “no amnesty” for undocumented people who don’t self-deport.
That’s frustrated many in the food and agriculture industry, who want answers about what kinds of disruptions they can expect moving forward.
But it’s important to understand that while these twists in immigration policy might harm employers in the food system, the food and agriculture industry is not an innocent victim here, nor is it an ally for humane immigration policy. As FarmStand, a legal advocacy group, explains, agriculture has long relied on the threat of deportation to strongarm immigrants into accepting poor working conditions. So while the latest moves on immigration may be encroaching too far for Big Ag’s lobbyists, those same lobbyists have played a big role in blocking common-sense immigration reform, especially paths to citizenship, in the past.
Meanwhile, the Department of Labor (DOL) has announced its plans to expand the H-2A visa program, which provides temporary authorization for seasonal workers. Although the program offers them legal status, that status is not permanent; it is also heavily reliant on employers keeping their end of the bargain when it comes to providing housing, pay and other basic worker protections. And as the program has grown in recent years, so too have complaints about employers failing to meet those provisions — or worse. In addition to complaints about wage theft and substandard housing, investigations have revealed passport confiscation, trafficking and even slavery under the program. To make matters worse, the DOL also announced it would be suspending recently finalized measures to protect workers from these abuses.
- H2-A visa
- A U.S. work visa that provides temporary authorization for seasonal agricultural jobs, such as planting, cultivating and harvesting crops.
For farmworker advocates, that makes expanding the H-2A program a bad option, because it leaves these provisionally documented workers as ill-equipped to safely self-advocate as those who are undocumented. And even if the program is expanded dramatically, it likely won’t fill the void created by any further expulsion of undocumented workers.
Attempts to address the legal hurdles have proven politically unviable. President Trump’s suggestion of a program wherein farmworkers self-deport then reenter legally attracted criticism from conservative supporters — a reaction that bodes poorly for other efforts, like Senator Alex Padilla’s proposed fix to grant long-term undocumented residents a path to legal status.
With all signs pointing toward a harder path for immigrant workers, some have also suggested that U.S. citizens might fill the gaps. Agriculture secretary Brooke Rollins even remarked that able-bodied adults on Medicaid should step into those vacant roles, connecting the administration’s anti-immigrant policies to its push to instate higher work requirements for people receiving social services.
But outside of coercive proposals, most experts agree that there’s little pulling U.S. citizens toward farmwork. Low wages, long hours and a lack of housing and services in rural communities make the jobs a tough sell, and it’s unlikely that farmers and food processors would be willing to pay better wages to attract workers with legal status. Then there’s the underlying cultural problem. As longtime activist Dolores Huerta, one of the founding members of the United Farm Workers, explained in a recent interview, some of that difficulty is farmers’ own fault: In refusing to pay fair wages or provide basic protections and benefits for workers, the agriculture industry has denigrated farmwork into something that few U.S.-born citizens are interested in doing. Only someone in an incredibly vulnerable position, with few other options, would choose to do it.
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Top photo by Sundry Photography/Adobe Stock.
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