In 1904, Upton Sinclair's novel about the plight of immigrant workers in Chicago meat-packing houses sparked legislation like The Meat Inspection Act and the Pure Food and Drug Act. "In many respects, we're back to the days of Upton Sinclair," said Lance Compa, labor law professor at Cornell University and editor and author of the Human Rights Watch report "Blood Sweat and Fear: Workers' Rights in U.S. Meat and Poultry Plants."
Compa joined Anita Grabowski, coordinator of the Mississippi Poultry Workers' Center of the Mississippi Center for Justice at the Capitol last week, to call for state and federal safety officials to slow the line speed in poultry processing plants, urge state officials to enforce workers' compensation laws, and demand better enforcement against companies' firing and intimidating workers who want to unionize. "Dangerous conditions are cheaper for companies—and the government does next to nothing," Compa said.
Grabowski said the meat-packing work force is increasingly composed of immigrant workers and that some state meat-packing employers threaten to call immigration authorities if workers try to organize. "Employers take advantage of language barriers and immigrants' lack of familiarity with U.S. employment laws to keep workers quiet," Grabowski said.
Five-year poultry worker Victor Perez detailed a frantic and dangerous work environment. Three years ago, he had a work accident that led to surgery. A day after the surgery, he was required to return and work with one hand. "[S]hortly thereafter I fractured the wrist in my good hand. When my second arm was injured at work, I asked permission to be sent to a doctor, and I was denied," he said.
Perez said he was told he needed to go on his own time and with his own money. Packing 70 bags of chicken per minute with recent surgery on one hand and a fracture in the other took its toll, he said, forcing him to break down and see the doctor. When he showed his doctor's report to his supervisor, he was suspended for five days because he'd seen a doctor "without permission." When he returned after five days, he was fired. "Many workers who are injured on the job and can no longer work are fired," he said. "They call us 'team members,' but they don't treat us like team members. They treat us like machines to be thrown away."
Gary Mickelson, director of community relations at Tyson Foods' corporate office in Springdale, Ark., said he did not have enough details to speak on Perez' experience by press time, but referred to a statement the company released in January about the Human Rights Watch report. "We're disappointed by the report's misleading conclusions, but not surprised given the author's extensive ties to organized labor," it said.
Tyson Foods says it invests millions of dollars annually in workplace safety and ergonomics. Employees go through training programs that emphasize workplace safety, including demonstrations on the use of protective equipment. And they protect "our workers' right to choose whether they want to join together for collective bargaining." Tyson has a mix of union and non-union plans, and about a third of the employees are unionized.
Mike Cockrell, CFO of Sanderson Farms in Laurel, did not respond by press time.
Grabowski and others were joined by members of the Senate and House Labor Committees. Rep. Erik Fleming, D-Hinds, said that he was aware of the many reports of immigrant worker abuse in Mississippi but said later that he didn't think the mistreatment was going to be addressed in this legislative session because of time constraints.
"No legislation has been submitted," Fleming said. "The Labor Commission is supposed to be meeting soon, so I assume that's what they want to do for next year. ... We just have to keep pushing and see if we can get it."