Raising cattle is tough. Nearly every day, Kansas ranchers and feedlot operators have to wrestle with drought, disease or blizzards. But the biggest problem is labor — the industry is chronically short-handed. That is especially true in southwest Kansas.
“If the immigrants weren’t there to help out, there wouldn’t be an operation functional in any of those places,” said Micheal Feltman, an immigration attorney in Cimarron, Kansas, just west of Dodge City.
Feltman helps the feedlots and mega dairy farms near there find workers. He said people funneling into southwest Kansas, from at least 40 countries, are the lifeblood of the beef industry and the regional economy.
Close to half the people who process meat in the U.S. were born someplace else, and immigrants do much of the work feeding and tending animals. Most of these workers are here legally, but a significant percentage aren’t, and documented immigrants often support close family members living with them illegally.
That’s why President-elect Donald Trump’s promises of a sweeping crackdown on immigration, sealing the border, and deporting 11 million people have many people in the meat industry worried.
Mass deportations would trigger a cascade of hardships across the chronically short-staffed meat industry, Feltman said. Processing plants would slow down, causing meat shortages that economists worry would drive consumer prices to record highs. Farmers would find themselves with more livestock than they could sell or care for, and the value of their animals would plummet.
“If every immigrant … over the last 20 years disappeared immediately, it would be a ghost town,” Feltman said. “I don’t know how the businesses would survive.”
FOR ONE recent Haitian immigrant, who said she was afraid to divulge her name because she fled hunger and horrific violence at home, the stakes seem like life and death. The woman and her 4-year-old daughter made their way to Garden City three months ago. They’re here on temporary humanitarian parole. That gives her two years to apply for asylum.
She’s still waiting to be granted a work permit, but said she’d be willing to do any kind of labor, including the dangerous, uncomfortable, smelly jobs at the Tyson packing plant on the outskirts of town. Through an interpreter, she said she’s following the letter of the law to stay in the U.S., and has an appointment for a screening that should clear the way for her work visa, and financial independence.
“It will bring me a lot of joy,” she said. “Because I have a kid to take care of, I have myself, and if I could invest in the country, it would bring me a lot of joy.”
Given Trump’s rhetoric during the election and since, she now fears she’ll be sent back to the violent chaos in Haiti instead of joining a workforce that badly needs her.
“It’s not safe. The gangs are killing people,” she said.
DESPITE HEFTY pay hikes for meat processing workers in recent years, the industry cannot hire people fast enough. In places like southwest Kansas, employers say there aren’t nearly enough native-born people willing to show up reliably and do the hard, dirty work necessary in the meat industry.
The complicated immigration system doesn’t allow in enough legal immigrants to make up the difference, so some companies turn to undocumented workers to get by.
University of Arkansas economist Jada Thompson said mass deportations would exacerbate the problem, sending shockwaves up and down the meat supply chain. For one thing, deporting meat-packing workers would slow down the plants, triggering shortages.
