MOUNT VERNON — Rosa Martinez held up a sign over her head Wednesday that read “huelga” — Spanish for “strike” — with hands covered in clusters of sores she says were caused by the caustic liquid daffodils release when cut.
Martinez said she and other field workers are left to buy their own medical-grade disposable gloves, which can cost $30 a box, and are only provided a small container of ointment the size of a ketchup packet to treat sores upon request.
That and several other complaints prompted Martinez and more than 70 other farmworkers employed by Washington Bulb Co. in Mount Vernon to walk off the job Wednesday morning. With the help of Familias Unidas por la Justicia, an independent union of Indigenous families, the workers are also demanding an increase in wages, guaranteed eight-hour workdays, improved sick leave and safer application of pesticides.
Workers say they want performance bonuses to be calculated by bunches of flowers picked regardless of the quality of the whole bunch; a $7.50 bonus for each employee in a crew that meets the set goal; and reinstatement of all striking workers.
They also want sick leave to begin accruing and be accessible at the onset of seasonal employment and they want their hourly rate to cover the time they spend walking from their cars to and from the fields. They also want rubber band-bunching of flowers to be performed only during work hours as well as access to four clean portable toilets.
Washington Bulb Co., which farms about 2,000 acres of land, is owned by RoozenGaarde Flowers and Bulbs, the largest tulip-bulb grower in the country and one of the largest employers in the Skagit Valley.
Wednesday’s walkout marked what union leaders believe is the first strike in the Skagit Valley tulip fields and comes just before the April 1 start of the monthlong 2022 Skagit Valley Tulip Festival. The festival draws thousands to view the vast tulip and daffodil fields, and spend money on food and lodging in the nearby towns of La Conner and Mount Vernon.
In a statement, Brent Roozen, owner of RoozenGaarde, said the company has a “long history of positive working relationships” with workers and called the strike “upsetting” to the company and its other employees. He said some of the workers’ complaints stem from an error made in calculating daily performance bonuses for two crews, in which one was overcompensated and the other undercompensated, but that was quickly fixed.
Roozen said the company provides a daily official tally of bunches picked to workers, but doesn’t provide individual tallies since bonuses are based on crew picks.
“We feel we’re as transparent as possible,” he said.
Daffodil sap can cause sores, rashes or irritation. The company makes that clear and that is why gloves and hydrocortisone cream are provided, Roozen wrote in an email.
But striking employees complained the gloves and cream aren’t accessible.
Polly Welch, a company official, said Washington Bulb will investigate the complaints, but to her knowledge “not a single complaint” has been made formally.
Workers on strike initially gathered at the company’s property to picket, but were asked to leave so they lined Best Road, just outside the company property. Union president Ramon Torres chanted “si se puede!” (“Yes, we can!”) through a megaphone.
Skagit Valley’s economy, much like the rest of Washington’s agricultural regions, relies heavily on migrant labor, with workers often forced to toil in harsh weather conditions, amid unsafe practices and pesticide exposure.
Workers in the tulip and daffodil fields that have become a symbol of Skagit Valley agriculture wade through deep mud, often getting stuck and needing two or even three other workers to help pull them out, farmworker Octavia Santiago Martinez said in Spanish.
Workers spend hours bent over, leaving them with back pain and sore muscles, she said. Many women go home after a long day’s work to prepare food and take care of their families.
Her mother, Concepcion, stood beside her on the picket line Wednesday morning with her long sleeves hiding partially healed sores. Santiago Martinez said her mother, who speaks Mixteco — an Indigenous language mainly spoken in the Oaxacan region of Mexico — only received three packs of the ointment during an entire season.
Herminio Juarez has worked in agriculture for over 20 years.
The poor working conditions farmworkers experience can exist everywhere, whether it’s California or Washington, he said in Mixteco through an interpreter. Juarez had been working seven days a week, as is common, and was fired recently for taking a Sunday off, he said.
Adding to the list of complaints, he said supervisors keep track of bathroom breaks and workers spend much of their break time going back and forth to their cars. He said supervisors only provide verbal warnings, but keep track of complaints against employees that may hinder job prospects for the next season.
Intimidation from superiors plays a major role in workers’ decision to remain quiet and work through the abuses, Juarez said.
They’re expected to go to work with lesions on their hands and purchase their own protective gear, said Edgar Franks, political director of Familias Unidas por la Justicia.
Workers are paid around $14 an hour, but in order to make a living wage, many work extra, unpaid time during breaks or at home to earn production bonuses, said Alfredo Juarez, a union committee member.
“They should be able to enjoy their rest breaks or time at home,” he said.
Often, a crew of 80 people will have to share a small barrel of water, Alfredo Juarez said.
“Sometimes we just see the vision the company paints like the tulip festival because we don’t take time to ask workers what conditions they really work under,” Alfredo Juarez said.
Fear of retaliation has kept workers quiet, Franks said. Many workers don’t speak English or Spanish, making it difficult for them to understand their rights.
“These working conditions are nothing new,” said Franks, who grew up in the Skagit Valley.
Many people look at the tulip fields and think about the “beauty of the landscape,” but don’t realize what it takes to produce and harvest what’s there, Franks said.
