The Changing Face of Farm Labor

Frederick Dairy Reflects Growing Importance of Latino Immigrants

Fireflies shot through the darkness like yellow sparks as Epifanio Mendoza reported for work recently at Teabow Farms. Except for a pale moon, there seemed to be no light for miles in the Frederick County countryside.

But inside the farm's bright office, Mendoza's boss, Larry Jarvis Jr., eyes ever so faintly red, had already punched in. They greeted each other, and Jarvis -- using Mendoza's nickname, "Epi" -- offered him some Krispy Kreme doughnuts laid out on a counter.

They wore identical uniforms with patches that read, "Teabow Farms," though Mendoza's shirttails flew loose and the cuffs of his dark blue pants were stuffed sloppily into his tall rubber boots. The clock read 3:30 a.m.

For the next 12 hours, the two men worked a punishing shift, sometimes side by side, sometimes at opposite ends of one of Maryland's largest dairy farms, but always separated by a cultural divide.

Mendoza, 27, a Mexican immigrant, knows more English than most Latinos at Teabow Farms, but not much. Jarvis, 41, knows more Spanish than the rest of his family, which owns the farm. But not much. Like those on other dairy farms in the region, however, the two represent the transformation of agricultural labor as growing numbers of Latin American immigrants replace local farmhands.

As Jarvis and Mendoza entered a barn to check on the animals' feed, black-and-white cows, with their big, rubbery-looking heads and goggle eyes, gave them a once-over.

"How much we give these guys yesterday? Twelve? Today let's give them 13," Jarvis said, referring to the tonnage poured into shallow troughs near the animals' pens.

Mendoza nodded and uttered a few words in English. Jarvis strung together a phrase or two in Spanish. "Barnyard Spanish," Jarvis calls it, enough to allow him to learn some details -- but not a lot -- about his crew.

Jarvis said he knows, for example, that Mendoza has a wife and three little girls in Mexico.

"No toros ," Jarvis says, using the Spanish word for "bulls."

Mendoza grinned.

Jarvis also said he knows that Mendoza's eldest daughter is 7 years old and his youngest is 1. He knows that Mendoza's family last saw him in August 2004. He knows that Mendoza sends a good bit of his paycheck to his family. He knows that Mendoza is waiting for the paperwork to bring his family to the United States. He knows that Mendoza works 70 hours a week, hoping to someday own a farm just like Teabow.