Source: POLITICO'S MORNING AGRICULTURE, 5/12/20

As coronavirus outbreaks at meatpacking plants have grabbed headlines over the past month, labor advocates are watching closely for an uptick in cases among agricultural laborers, Pro Ag’s Helena Bottemiller Evich and Liz Crampton write this a.m.

From low-income citizens and legal guestworkers to hundreds of thousands of undocumented immigrants, farm laborers have long been an overlooked pillar in the U.S. economy. Now they’re tasked with helping to keep the country fed during a pandemic — without stringent federal requirements to keep them safe on the job.

Farm outbreaks are already cropping up across the country: A large orchard in Washington tested 70 workers for the coronavirus and found more than 50 positive cases, for example. And in Monterey County, Calif., nearly 1 in 4 coronavirus cases is an ag worker, according to local officials.

Produce growers in the thick of harvest season are installing hand-washing stations, giving out facemasks and directing workers to keep their distance. But such protective measures are largely voluntary, and they’ve been inconsistent so far.

Chuck Obern, owner of C&B Farms in Clewiston, Fla., hires some 200 laborers each year to tend to his kale, bok choy and other herbs. And like most growers, he thinks regulations aren’t necessary for farmers to keep their workers safe. Obern said his operation was quick to share CDC guidance with the crew and start sanitizing the bus that transports them to fields every day.

“We would be stupid to not care and not do everything we can to keep our workers as healthy as possible,” he said. “If Covid did come in and run through our crew, who would pick our crops?”

But following social distancing rules is easier said than done for farmworkers, who typically live in close quarters and travel in tightly packed buses. Ag labor advocates would prefer consistent standards enforced by the government.

Even in the field, keeping a safe distance is tricky; tomato pickers, for example, generally carry fruit in their own buckets and then haul it to a common collection point — as fast as possible, since they’re paid by the pound.

“It feels almost laughable,” said Gerardo Reyes Chavez, a veteran farmworker and organizer in Immokalee, Fla., known as the nation’s tomato capital. “You cannot be timing with everyone to see when they are bringing their bucket.”