President Donald Trump recently acknowledged what American farmers have known for decades: immigrant labor is indispensable to our agricultural economy. From tending crops to processing poultry and dairy, immigrants make it possible for American families to put food on the table.
But while the agriculture industry’s attention has focused on the consequences of stepped-up immigration enforcement, there’s another, quieter labor crisis unfolding: the near-total halt of refugee resettlement to the United States.
Refugees are work-authorized the moment they arrive on U.S. soil. As lawfully present immigrants invited to restart their lives in the U.S. after having fled a well-founded fear of persecution, refugees are motivated to support their families. They often come from agrarian backgrounds that translate naturally into farming, food processing, and dairy jobs in the U.S.
And yet, despite being an ideal fit for the needs of U.S. agriculture, the flow of refugee workers has slowed to a trickle after the U.S.’s Refugee Resettlement program was suspended in the past months.
World Relief, one of the government’s partners in refugee resettlement, has seen firsthand the costs of this freeze, as well as the promise of resuming resettlement.
Across more than 20 U.S. offices, we’ve partnered with over 165 agricultural employers annually, from small family farms to giants like Tyson Foods, Smithfield, and Nestlé.
In just the last 18 months, our employment programs have placed more than 1,100 refugees in agricultural roles. That’s more than a quarter of all the work-eligible refugees we’ve served during that time.
Why do these partnerships work so well? Employers tell us over and over: refugee employees are consistent, resilient, and eager to work.
At World Relief Chicagoland, over 1,500 individuals have filled critical food production jobs over the past 25 years.
Nicole Kennell, an economic empowerment manager at World Relief Memphis, reports that a recent partnership with one of the world’s largest meat processing and packing companies allowed the opening of a new production line.
At World Relief Upstate in South Carolina, clients step into physically demanding roles in poultry and pork processing — jobs often passed over by native-born workers — with dignity and determination. In Wisconsin, meat packing plants and dairy producers alike have built cultures of belonging, fueled by dependable refugee hires.
Time and again, employers discover that refugee workers reduce turnover, raise morale, and stay on the job. A human resources leader at a large meat and poultry processor put it simply: “I have never met more hard-working and determined people that just want to get ahead.”
In a sector already reeling from labor shortages, immigration enforcement, and demographic decline in rural areas, refugee resettlement is not only a humanitarian obligation, but a workforce imperative. Refugees are not vulnerable to deportation, want to work, and are ready to step into roles that keep America’s farms running and grocery prices stable.
It’s also worth stating plainly: refugee resettlement aligns with our nation’s values. World Relief, like many Americans, is motivated by a moral call to welcome the stranger. That call resonates not only in churches and synagogues, but in our history of standing by persecuted people, supporting U.S. military allies, and offering new beginnings to those fleeing war, dictatorship, and religious oppression.
A 2025 Lifeway Research poll found that 70% of evangelical Christians believe the U.S. has a moral responsibility to resettle refugees, and polling from the Pew Research Center has shown that support for refugee resettlement crosses party lines.
Though it’s true that our leaders sometimes face decisions between what is right and what is popular, or between what is right and what helps the economy, restarting the U.S.’s refugee resettlement program is not one of those choices. Instead, doing so is a rare convergence of moral clarity, economic necessity, and bipartisan support.
