Courage in the Fields

The California sun beat down on seemingly endless rows of grapevines. Kneeling in the dirt beside the vines, men, women, and children harvested grapes in the blazing heat.

Snip. Snip. Snip.

With small metal clippers, they cut bunches of green and purple grapes and packed them into wooden crates. It was painstaking work. Gnats bit their skin. Sweat soaked their shirts. Their bosses pushed them to move faster.

It was September 1965, and harvest season had arrived in Delano (duh-LAY-noh), California. The agricultural town had a booming grape business. Delano and the surrounding communities produced almost 300,000 tons of grapes each year. In 1965, that haul was worth nearly $27 million—more than $260 million in today’s money. Grapes from Delano were shipped all over the world, from New York City to Hong Kong.

But the people who picked those grapes earned barely enough for food and housing—and they worked under brutal conditions. Out in the fields, there was no cold drinking water. There were no toilets where they could relieve themselves in private. The vineyards were sprayed with toxic chemicals, called pesticides, to control bugs. The pesticides sickened workers.

Yet no one dared complain. If they did, they could be fired.

Suddenly, the workers heard a commotion. They looked out at the dusty road beyond the fields. A dark-haired woman with a megaphone was standing on top of a car. She shouted at the pickers to stop working until their employers began treating them better.

Then she yelled a single Spanish word: “Huelga!”

“Strike!”

The woman was Dolores Huerta, and she was asking the pickers to take a huge risk: to put down their clippers and walk out of the field.

The California sun beat down on rows of grapevines. Men, women, and children knelt in the dirt beside the vines, harvesting grapes in the blazing heat.

Snip. Snip. Snip.

They used small clippers to cut off bunches of grapes. They packed them into wooden crates. It was painstaking work. Gnats bit their skin. Sweat soaked their shirts. Their bosses pushed them to move faster.

It was September 1965. Harvest season had arrived in Delano (duh-LAY-noh), California. Delano and the surrounding communities produced almost 300,000 tons of grapes each year. In 1965, that haul was worth nearly $27 million. That’s more than $260 million in today’s money. The grapes were shipped all over the world, from New York City to Hong Kong.

But the people who picked those grapes earned barely enough for food and housing. And they worked under brutal conditions. Out in the fields, there was no cold drinking water. There were no toilets where they could relieve themselves in private. The vineyards were sprayed with toxic chemicals, called pesticides, to control bugs. The pesticides sickened workers.

Yet no one complained. If they did, they could be fired.

Suddenly, the workers heard a noise. They looked out at the dusty road beyond the fields. A dark-haired woman was standing on top of a car. She had a megaphone. She shouted at the pickers to stop working. She wanted their employers to treat them better.

Then she yelled a single Spanish word: “Huelga!”

“Strike!”

The woman was Dolores Huerta. She wanted the pickers to take a huge risk: to put down their clippers and walk out of the field.

If you visited Delano in 1965, a sign with big purple grapes would have welcomed you into town. You would have inhaled the earthy scent of 37,000 acres of vineyards—an area roughly the size of Miami.

A proud grape grower might have offered you a sample. That juicy grape likely would have been picked by one of the 5,000 hired hands who filled Delano each fall during the harvest. Whole families worked in the fields, their babies sleeping nearby in wooden fruit crates.

Most of the workers were Mexican American migrants who traveled from farm to farm, following California’s harvests. In winter, the workers picked lettuce, broccoli, and cauliflower near the state’s southern border. By the end of summer, they would have made their way hundreds of miles north to harvest grapes and other crops on farms in and around Delano.

Wherever they went, the workers needed temporary housing. They typically rented shelters from the growers, who owned the land. These shelters were small and in disrepair. Families of six or more often crammed into metal sheds without indoor plumbing. Some workers slept in tents.

In the 1960s, pickers were paid an average of just 90 cents an hour, the equivalent of about $8.56 today. Many couldn’t afford to go to a doctor, despite how hard the work was on their bodies. At the time, a male farmworker’s average life expectancy was 49 years, well below the then-national average of 67.

Dolores Huerta was determined to make things better for farmworkers.

If you visited Delano in 1965, you would have been welcomed by a sign with big purple grapes. You would have smelled the earthy scent of 37,000 acres of vineyards—an area roughly the size of Miami.

A grape grower might have offered you a sample. That grape likely would have been picked by one of the 5,000 hired hands who went to Delano each fall during the harvest. Whole families worked in the fields. Their babies slept nearby in wooden fruit crates.

Most of the workers were Mexican American migrants. They traveled from farm to farm. In winter, they picked lettuce, broccoli, and cauliflower near California’s southern border. By the end of summer, they would have gone north to harvest grapes and other crops on farms in and around Delano.

Wherever they went, the workers needed housing. They typically rented shelters from the growers, who owned the land. These shelters were small and run down. Families of six or more often crammed into metal sheds without indoor plumbing. Some workers slept in tents.

In the 1960s, pickers were paid an average of just 90 cents an hour, which is about $8.56 today. The work was hard on their bodies. But many couldn’t afford to go to a doctor. A male picker’s average life expectancy was 49 years, well below the national average of 67 back then.

Dolores Huerta wanted to make things better for farmworkers.

Huerta was born in 1930 in New Mexico, and she grew up in California. After college, she became a teacher. Many of her students were from farmworking families. Huerta saw how tough things were for them and wanted to make a difference.

But how?

In 1962, Huerta helped start a labor union for farmworkers. A labor union is an organization of workers who come together to seek better pay and working conditions from their employers.

Huerta founded the union with a man named César Chávez. They both understood farmworkers: Huerta’s father, Juan, had picked sugar beets, and Chávez grew up a migrant worker himself.

The union was called the National Farm Workers Association (NFWA). The pair nicknamed it La Causa, meaning “The Cause.”

By 1965, the NFWA had grown to 1,200 members.

Huerta was born in 1930 in New Mexico. She grew up in California. After college, she became a teacher. Many of her students were from farmworking families. Huerta saw how tough things were for them. She wanted to make a difference.

But how?

In 1962, Huerta helped start a labor union for farmworkers. A labor union is an organization of workers. They join together to seek better pay and working conditions from their employers.

Huerta founded the union with a man named César Chávez. They both understood farmworkers: Huerta’s father, Juan, had picked sugar beets. Chávez had been a migrant worker.

The union was called the National Farm Workers Association (NFWA). The pair nicknamed it La Causa, meaning “The Cause.”

By 1965, the NFWA had grown to 1,200 members.

Mexican American migrant workers weren’t the only group facing hardship in Delano’s vineyards in the 1960s. Filipino American farmworkers were dealing with similar struggles.

On September 8, 1965, about 1,000 Filipino American farmworkers from another union went on strike against Delano’s grape growers. They were fed up because the Delano growers were paying less than growers in other parts of California. The strike was led by the head of the largely Filipino American union, a man named Larry Itliong.

Itliong asked Huerta and Chávez if the NFWA would join in the strike. After all, the more people who participated in the strike, the greater its chance of success.

But going on strike wouldn’t be easy. The farmworkers would have to go without pay. If they were staying on a grower’s property, they would be kicked off. Where would they live? Who would pay their bills? How would they eat?

Despite the uncertainties, every member of the NFWA voted to join Itliong. And on September 20, more than 1,000 Mexican American workers joined the strike in Delano.

Huerta’s daughter, Lori de Leon, was 13 at the time and still remembers that day clearly. “It was pretty exciting to see people stand up and take action,” she remembers.

Mexican American migrant workers faced many hardships in Delano in the 1960s. Filipino American farmworkers were also struggling.

On September 8, 1965, about 1,000 Filipino American farmworkers from another union went on strike against Delano’s grape growers. They were fed up because the Delano growers were paying less than growers in other parts of California. Larry Itliong was the head of the largely Filipino American union. He led the strike.

Itliong asked the NFWA to join in the strike. Then it would have a greater chance of success.

 But going on strike wouldn’t be easy. The farmworkers would have to go without pay. If they were staying on a grower’s property, they would be kicked off. Where would they live? Who would pay their bills? How would they eat?

Even so, every member of the NFWA voted to join Itliong. And on September 20, more than 1,000 Mexican American workers joined the strike in Delano.

Huerta’s daughter, Lori de Leon, was 13 at the time. “It was pretty exciting to see people stand up and take action,” she remembers.

At first, the grape growers mostly ignored the strike. They simply brought in other workers to pick grapes. That didn’t faze Huerta. She shouted into the fields to persuade the new farmworkers to join her.

“Walk the street with us into history!” she cried. 

The growers blasted music to drown her out. When she and other strikers stood near the fields with signs, the growers sprayed them with pesticides.

As the strike went on, the growers and their supporters criticized Huerta for spending her days advocating for workers instead of taking care of her children.

Sometimes people would even arrive at her house at night, threatening her and her family.

No matter what happened, Huerta refused to retaliate. She and Chávez were committed to keeping the peace. They admired Martin Luther King Jr., who at the time was leading nonviolent protests for the civil rights of Black Americans.

At first, the grape growers mostly ignored the strike. They hired workers from other areas. That didn’t faze Huerta. She shouted into the fields to get the new farmworkers to join her.

“Walk the street with us into history!” she cried.

The growers blasted music to drown her out. They sprayed her and other strikers with pesticides.

As the strike went on, the growers and their supporters criticized Huerta for spending her days advocating for workers instead of taking care of her children.

Sometimes people would go to her house at night to threaten her and her family.

But Huerta refused to retaliate. She and Chávez were committed to keeping the peace. They admired Martin Luther King Jr. At the time, he was leading nonviolent protests for the civil rights of Black Americans.

Months passed. The strike dragged on. Yet the workers found ways to keep their spirits up. Some strikers joined a performing group called El Teatro Campesino, meaning “The Farmworkers’ Theater,” which put on live shows to entertain and to inspire more farmworkers to join the strike.

 The NFWA paid each striker $5 a week and helped find housing for those who needed it. Still, it became increasingly difficult for the workers to hold out. Church leaders, college students, and other unions began donating food, clothing, and money to help keep the strikers going. Doctors volunteered medical care.

 Yet some strikers eventually had to go back to work. Some left the area and took other jobs. Some remained but picked different crops. Others simply returned to the vineyards.

Finally, six months into the strike, good news arrived. U.S. Senator Robert F. Kennedy had heard about what was happening. He and other members of Congress traveled to Delano. They held televised discussions on the issue. Suddenly, the Delano Grape Strike was national news.

For the first time, people across the country could see how farmworkers in Delano lived and worked, says Gaspar Rivera-Salgado of the UCLA Labor Center. “When people saw the conditions, that was a turning point,” he says.

In the coming months, the two unions involved in the strike merged. They formed a larger union: the United Farm Workers of America. With Huerta leading the charge, the group launched a national boycott, calling on Americans to stop buying grapes.

Across the country, supporters handed out flyers and stood in front of grocery stores with signs. Dockworkers refused to load Delano grapes onto ships. In major cities, grape sales fell by more than 50 percent.

Months passed. The strike dragged on. Yet the workers found ways to keep their spirits up. Some strikers joined a performing group called El Teatro Campesino, meaning “The Farmworkers’ Theater.” It put on live shows to entertain and to inspire more farmworkers to join the strike.

The NFWA paid each striker $5 a week. It helped workers find housing. Still, it became difficult for the workers to hold out. Church leaders, college students, and other unions began donating food, clothing, and money to help keep the strikers going. Doctors volunteered medical care.

Yet some strikers had to go back to work. Some left the area and took other jobs. Some remained but picked different crops. Others simply returned to the vineyards.

Finally, six months into the strike, good news arrived. U.S. Senator Robert F. Kennedy had heard about what was happening. He and other members of Congress traveled to Delano. They held televised discussions on the issue. Suddenly, the Delano Grape Strike was national news.

For the first time, people across the country saw how farmworkers in Delano lived and worked, says Gaspar Rivera-Salgado of the UCLA Labor Center. “That was a turning point,” he says.

In the coming months, the two unions involved in the strike merged. They formed a larger union: the United Farm Workers of America. With Huerta leading the charge, the group launched a national boycott, asking Americans to stop buying grapes.

Across the country, supporters handed out flyers and stood in front of grocery stores with signs. Dockworkers refused to load Delano grapes onto ships. In major cities, grape sales fell by more than 50 percent.

In 1970—five long years after the strike began—the growers and the union reached an agreement. Wages were raised to $1.80 an hour. The farmworkers were also to receive health care, rest breaks, protection from pesticides, and portable toilets in the fields.

The great Delano Grape Strike was over at last.

Today California has some of the strongest rules and protections for farmworkers in the nation. By law, farmworkers there must be paid at least $15.50 an hour, the state’s minimum wage. The workers must also have access to fresh water, shaded areas for rest, and medical attention if needed. Employers must provide safety training to help protect workers from pesticides and dangerous machinery.

In many ways, California’s laws are a model for the rest of the country. In much of the U.S., farmworkers continue to face difficult working conditions.

Yet the Delano Grape Strike showed that progress—better wages, safer working conditions—is possible, says Rivera-Salgado.

“The legacy of Delano is for people to look back and say, ‘We came together. We changed things—and that can be done again,’” he says.

As for Huerta? At 93, she continues to advocate for workers through the Dolores Huerta Foundation. In 2012, she was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom for her lifelong work.

Whenever things get challenging, Huerta reminds people to keep fighting for a better future. She often uses a slogan that she coined decades ago: “¡Sí, se puede!” That’s Spanish for “Yes, we can!” 

In 1970, the growers and the union reached an agreement. Wages were raised to $1.80 an hour. The farmworkers also got health care, rest breaks, protection from pesticides, and portable toilets in the fields.

After five long years, the great Delano Grape Strike was finally over.

Today California has some of the strongest protections for farmworkers in the nation. Farmworkers there must be paid at least $15.50 an hour, the state’s minimum wage. The workers must also have access to fresh water, shaded areas for rest, and medical attention if needed. Employers must take steps to keep workers safe from pesticides and dangerous machinery.

In many ways, California’s laws are a model for the rest of the country. In much of the U.S., farmworkers continue to face difficult working conditions.

Yet the Delano Grape Strike showed that better wages and safer working conditions are possible, says Rivera-Salgado.

“The legacy of Delano is for people to look back and say, ‘We came together. We changed things—and that can be done again,’” he says.

As for Huerta? At 93, she still advocates for workers through the Dolores Huerta Foundation. In 2012, she was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom for her lifelong work.

When things get challenging, Huerta reminds people to keep fighting for a better future. She uses a slogan that she coined decades ago: “¡Sí, se puede!” That’s Spanish for “Yes, we can!” 

We step out into the morning,

Delano dawn being born

into a new day.

The march to Sacramento.

340 miles.

75 farmworkers.

El Teatro Campesino.

Our banner, La Virgen de Guadalupe.

A pilgrimage.

A statement.

A seed bundle of hope.

Papá, Concha, and me

kiss

Mamá, Rafa, Gabi, and Martín

goodbye

with short little kisses

and a bendición drawn in the air

by Mamá’s gentle gestures.

I take Papá’s hand

and he takes

Concha’s hand.

We join the crowd in singing,

“De colores, de colores se visten los campos

en la primavera . . .”

We march for justice, together.

We step out into the morning,

Delano dawn being born

into a new day.

The march to Sacramento.

340 miles.

75 farmworkers.

El Teatro Campesino.

Our banner, La Virgen de Guadalupe.

A pilgrimage.

A statement.

A seed bundle of hope.

Papá, Concha, and me

kiss

Mamá, Rafa, Gabi, and Martín

goodbye

with short little kisses

and a bendición drawn in the air

by Mamá’s gentle gestures.

I take Papá’s hand

and he takes

Concha’s hand.

We join the crowd in singing,

“De colores, de colores se visten los campos

en la primavera . . .”

We march for justice, together.