In Collinsville, Alabama No Soccer signs are posted at vacant fields around the town, an act that clearly excludes Collinsville’s large Latino population, who brought the sport with them some 30 years ago. Obstacles like... [ view full abstract ]
In Collinsville, Alabama No Soccer signs are posted at vacant fields around the town, an act that clearly excludes Collinsville’s large Latino population, who brought the sport with them some 30 years ago. Obstacles like this are troubling, and to a certain extent perplexing, considering that all my interviewees, white and Latino, agree that the influx of immigration, beginning in the early 90s and driven by jobs at the local poultry processing facility, is exactly what saved the rural town. The current friction manifests itself in dual pressures of market and state that restrict the undocumented population’s ability to invest more fully in Collinsville, simultaneously slowing down local economic growth and widening the native-immigrant cultural gap. Testimonies of undocumented members of the population describe bureaucratic barriers to starting businesses, and some report an uptick in racist activity since the last presidential election. One practice in particular highlights the precarious position they occupy. In the summer, county police set up license checks at the single road leaving the poultry facility. As many of the facility’s employees are undocumented, the practice results a steady source of income for the state, in the form of numerous $400 tickets. Here, undocumented individuals are literally squeezed between the market and the state.
This study draws on 4 months of observation and semi-structured interviews with white, immigrant, and undocumented residents of the town, and its purpose is to explore the dynamic of a small town that has seen a whole generation of immigrants put down roots, something that poultry, contrary to seasonal work, allows. In the words of a white farmer in the region: “We don’t really have migrant labor anymore, just cheap labor.” Past literature, such as Angela Stuesse’s ethnographic work in Mississippi’s chicken processing plants, has already built a strong narrative on this topic, but more in-depth research is needed to capture the ever-shifting dynamic of immigration and labor in rural America. In the 90s, billboards in Tijuana, Mexico read Mucho Trabajo en (Available Work in) Russelville Alabama. NAFTA devastated rural Mexico, but enlivened Russelville and similarly the community of Collinsville, spurring immigration (Otero 2011). NAFTA opened a door for the U.S. poultry industry, which began recruiting a steady stream of cheap immigrant labor to facilities like the one in Collinsville, where work on the line is tough, conditions are extreme, and injuries common. Additionally, lax hiring practices create a draw for undocumented immigrants looking for any kind of work, and who due to their vulnerable status, are less likely to speak out on labor conditions. My ethnographic methods question the veracity of the popular narrative of successful integration in Collinsville, even as they add to a more complex narrative of rural America. My preliminary research shows a dynamic town, one that has survived because of Latino immigrants, but that struggles to fully embrace them. Since the market and state create friction, this study hopes to encourage more diversity in town ownership, which would certainly include the election of Collinsville’s first Latino councilperson.
