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Until a few years ago, Rosa Acosta had never even seen a flush toilet. She raised her 12 children in a tiny adobe home in rural Jalisco, Mexico. Several of her kids left it to work in the United States. One son, who left at age 12 to earn money as a farmworker in California, returned home to Rosa and his siblings after only a year. Another, her oldest, still works in California's fields. Neither crossed the border legally.
After two decades of backbreaking labor in California, her oldest son and his family still live in extreme poverty. Out of his meager earnings, he sends some money back to Mexico. For many years, he had never even met his youngest siblings who were born after he left, and his mother had never met his children, her grandchildren, as neither could easily cross the border.

The Acosta family is one of millions whose fate hangs in the balance as President Barack Obama tries to convince Congress that it's time to overhaul our immigration laws.
In Mexico, the poor have family, community, and some degree of independence if they have a bit of land. Known as "campesinos," these small-scale farmers traditionally plant squash, corn, and beans in the same field. It's a simple yet brilliant system: The squash plants suppress weeds, the corn provides support for the beans, and the beans keep the soil fertile. These crops together form the backbone of a sustainable and healthy diet with plenty of protein and vitamins.
The journey to the United States is risky and expensive. Some migrants die on the way. Many are separated for years, decades, or even permanently from their families in Mexico. Once they arrive they live in the shadows, where they're easily exploited because employers can threaten them with deportation.
Why do they come?
For families like the Acostas, life changed after NAFTA. Following the enactment of the U.S.-Mexican-Canadian pact two decades ago, Mexico phased out benefits that traditionally protected its farmers and changed its constitution to break up traditional communal farms known as ejidos.
After NAFTA took effect, corn prices fell so low that the poorest farmers could no longer earn money by selling it. Tortilla prices simultaneously skyrocketed, gouging urban consumers. The impact was so significant that in Mexico's southernmost state, Chiapas, an indigenous group known as the Zapatistas declared autonomy from the Mexican state in protest.
Life was never easy for poor Mexican families -- but NAFTA made it much harder. Meanwhile, on this side of the border, we reap the benefits of cheap farm and meatpacking labor in the form of low-priced food, thanks to the contributions of millions of undocumented workers. And how do we express our gratitude? Far too often, it's with racism, hatred, and the desire that all the estimated 11 million undocumented immigrants "go home."
By enjoying the fruits of their labor -- pun intended -- every consumer becomes complicit in the exploitation of undocumented workers. Harassment, wage theft, and backbreaking work that can leave workers disabled are not uncommon.
Only by bringing undocumented workers out of the shadows can we help them gain safe labor conditions. After all, if our broken immigration system is fixed, employers will no longer be able to rely on the threat of deportation to keep wages low.
Improving the immigration system will require an educated debate. For starters, we must recognize the humanity of the folks who pick our fruit and process our meat. And we must examine how our own policies, like NAFTA, hurt their home countries, further spurring immigration here.
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
Until a few years ago, Rosa Acosta had never even seen a flush toilet. She raised her 12 children in a tiny adobe home in rural Jalisco, Mexico. Several of her kids left it to work in the United States. One son, who left at age 12 to earn money as a farmworker in California, returned home to Rosa and his siblings after only a year. Another, her oldest, still works in California's fields. Neither crossed the border legally.
After two decades of backbreaking labor in California, her oldest son and his family still live in extreme poverty. Out of his meager earnings, he sends some money back to Mexico. For many years, he had never even met his youngest siblings who were born after he left, and his mother had never met his children, her grandchildren, as neither could easily cross the border.

The Acosta family is one of millions whose fate hangs in the balance as President Barack Obama tries to convince Congress that it's time to overhaul our immigration laws.
In Mexico, the poor have family, community, and some degree of independence if they have a bit of land. Known as "campesinos," these small-scale farmers traditionally plant squash, corn, and beans in the same field. It's a simple yet brilliant system: The squash plants suppress weeds, the corn provides support for the beans, and the beans keep the soil fertile. These crops together form the backbone of a sustainable and healthy diet with plenty of protein and vitamins.
The journey to the United States is risky and expensive. Some migrants die on the way. Many are separated for years, decades, or even permanently from their families in Mexico. Once they arrive they live in the shadows, where they're easily exploited because employers can threaten them with deportation.
Why do they come?
For families like the Acostas, life changed after NAFTA. Following the enactment of the U.S.-Mexican-Canadian pact two decades ago, Mexico phased out benefits that traditionally protected its farmers and changed its constitution to break up traditional communal farms known as ejidos.
After NAFTA took effect, corn prices fell so low that the poorest farmers could no longer earn money by selling it. Tortilla prices simultaneously skyrocketed, gouging urban consumers. The impact was so significant that in Mexico's southernmost state, Chiapas, an indigenous group known as the Zapatistas declared autonomy from the Mexican state in protest.
Life was never easy for poor Mexican families -- but NAFTA made it much harder. Meanwhile, on this side of the border, we reap the benefits of cheap farm and meatpacking labor in the form of low-priced food, thanks to the contributions of millions of undocumented workers. And how do we express our gratitude? Far too often, it's with racism, hatred, and the desire that all the estimated 11 million undocumented immigrants "go home."
By enjoying the fruits of their labor -- pun intended -- every consumer becomes complicit in the exploitation of undocumented workers. Harassment, wage theft, and backbreaking work that can leave workers disabled are not uncommon.
Only by bringing undocumented workers out of the shadows can we help them gain safe labor conditions. After all, if our broken immigration system is fixed, employers will no longer be able to rely on the threat of deportation to keep wages low.
Improving the immigration system will require an educated debate. For starters, we must recognize the humanity of the folks who pick our fruit and process our meat. And we must examine how our own policies, like NAFTA, hurt their home countries, further spurring immigration here.
Until a few years ago, Rosa Acosta had never even seen a flush toilet. She raised her 12 children in a tiny adobe home in rural Jalisco, Mexico. Several of her kids left it to work in the United States. One son, who left at age 12 to earn money as a farmworker in California, returned home to Rosa and his siblings after only a year. Another, her oldest, still works in California's fields. Neither crossed the border legally.
After two decades of backbreaking labor in California, her oldest son and his family still live in extreme poverty. Out of his meager earnings, he sends some money back to Mexico. For many years, he had never even met his youngest siblings who were born after he left, and his mother had never met his children, her grandchildren, as neither could easily cross the border.

The Acosta family is one of millions whose fate hangs in the balance as President Barack Obama tries to convince Congress that it's time to overhaul our immigration laws.
In Mexico, the poor have family, community, and some degree of independence if they have a bit of land. Known as "campesinos," these small-scale farmers traditionally plant squash, corn, and beans in the same field. It's a simple yet brilliant system: The squash plants suppress weeds, the corn provides support for the beans, and the beans keep the soil fertile. These crops together form the backbone of a sustainable and healthy diet with plenty of protein and vitamins.
The journey to the United States is risky and expensive. Some migrants die on the way. Many are separated for years, decades, or even permanently from their families in Mexico. Once they arrive they live in the shadows, where they're easily exploited because employers can threaten them with deportation.
Why do they come?
For families like the Acostas, life changed after NAFTA. Following the enactment of the U.S.-Mexican-Canadian pact two decades ago, Mexico phased out benefits that traditionally protected its farmers and changed its constitution to break up traditional communal farms known as ejidos.
After NAFTA took effect, corn prices fell so low that the poorest farmers could no longer earn money by selling it. Tortilla prices simultaneously skyrocketed, gouging urban consumers. The impact was so significant that in Mexico's southernmost state, Chiapas, an indigenous group known as the Zapatistas declared autonomy from the Mexican state in protest.
Life was never easy for poor Mexican families -- but NAFTA made it much harder. Meanwhile, on this side of the border, we reap the benefits of cheap farm and meatpacking labor in the form of low-priced food, thanks to the contributions of millions of undocumented workers. And how do we express our gratitude? Far too often, it's with racism, hatred, and the desire that all the estimated 11 million undocumented immigrants "go home."
By enjoying the fruits of their labor -- pun intended -- every consumer becomes complicit in the exploitation of undocumented workers. Harassment, wage theft, and backbreaking work that can leave workers disabled are not uncommon.
Only by bringing undocumented workers out of the shadows can we help them gain safe labor conditions. After all, if our broken immigration system is fixed, employers will no longer be able to rely on the threat of deportation to keep wages low.
Improving the immigration system will require an educated debate. For starters, we must recognize the humanity of the folks who pick our fruit and process our meat. And we must examine how our own policies, like NAFTA, hurt their home countries, further spurring immigration here.