Novelist Helena María Viramontes deftly captures farmworking conditions of the mid-20th century in the August California Book Club selection, Under the Feet of Jesus. In carefully drawn descriptions and scenes, the book reveals the grueling circumstances workers are forced to toil under: constant exposure to the sun and toxic chemicals, minimal breaks, a lack of safe drinking water, and the push to always keep working faster and faster.

In the real world, however, consumers rarely witness the physical challenges faced by farmworkers. The nonprofit Líderes Campesinas is a statewide network of advocates dedicated to improving the lives of female farmworkers. The group raises public awareness of harsh labor conditions and informs women who work in the fields of their rights. The organization assists workers in reporting sexual harassment, abuse, and discrimination, and its representatives accompany victims to court.

We talked to three women helped by Líderes Campesinas about their experiences in California’s fields. Yuriria López Arciga is an outreach worker based in Kern County who has worked in the fields. Elvira Herrera is Líderes Campesinas’s Violence Against Women program coordinator; she first contacted the organization to access domestic violence resources for farmworkers. Flor Yasmin Alvarado Guzmán, who worked in fruit fields from the age of 14 and sought resources for farmworkers from Líderes Campesinas, is now a health promoter in Kern County.

These interviews have been translated from Spanish and edited for brevity and clarity.

Can you tell me how you first started with farmwork?
I have a degree in business administration. Because of delinquency and low pay, my husband, who was a journalist, and I decided to immigrate to the United States for a better life, and more so, for a better quality of life for my children—one free of crime. When we came, my husband cut trees and I worked the field. —López Arciga

My father decided he needed to provide a better life for his children. That’s when he brought us to the United States undocumented. It was hard because I saw all the struggles and discrimination my parents went through—and the sexual harassment. It was very hard being so young out there and to see how fast my parents had to be working. Back then, I didn’t understand it. I just saw Mom in a hurry, and in the fields, I heard guys whistling at her. Back in the day, we didn’t know anything about this. Now I could put names to it. —Herrera

I was 14 years old when I entered the country. My mother migrated to Salinas, for strawberry season, and that’s where I started working. My mom and I would get up at 4:30 a.m. to make lunch, and at 5:30, we would leave the house and take my brother, who was little, to a day care center. —Alvarado Guzmán

What is the most difficult part of a farmworker’s job?
The sun. There’s no shade, so you have to wear a hat. But you also have a yellow plastic suit that you have to wear in the cilantro fields. You have to wear it because it is part of the protective equipment, and there is so much sweat. You could get up from picking cilantro for a bit, but you didn’t want to waste so much time—especially if you were on a contract—going to the bathroom, for example, because you would have to take the suit off, then wash your hands, go to the bathroom, and then come out. That was the most challenging: the heat and the temperatures here. For example, right now, we are at 114 and 116 degrees. —López Arciga

Violations. Farmworkers are out there in this heat; the farm owners don’t give them cold water, and the restrooms are not clean. In terms of providing shade, the owners have umbrellas, but they’re all torn up. If you report anything, or if they find out you’re the one reporting violations, you could get fired. —Herrera

On the job, I saw that there was discrimination, and there were violations of our rights as well. I saw that if the foreman liked you, he would continue to work with you and call you for the next season, but if he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t call you anymore. I did watch and listen to what was happening to other workers. There were many different girls who opened up to us and talked about their time in the field. And they said the foreman would go and grope them, and if they didn’t let him grope them, then he would fire them. So they had to give in, even if they were married or whatever, just to keep the job. —Alvarado Guzmán

Can you tell me more about chemical exposure in the fields?
When I arrived, I didn’t know anything about the chemicals that were thrown, or what precautions I had to take, or what I should expect. I know now that there must be signs when they have just thrown pesticide. I really don’t remember seeing any signs at that time, but they are supposed to warn you when a pesticide was thrown, what days, how much was thrown, and how harmful it can be for you. We only smelled it. It was a very foul smell. You learn to distinguish it. Over time, my son has suffered a lot of respiratory problems, and it is because of that, because of the pesticides and the contamination that exist here in the county. —López Arciga

When I was a young kid, my dad would come home and I would hug him. I remember that I would start getting a lot of rashes on my face and on my arms. Working out there, farmworkers aren’t provided the protective equipment they need. They bring these chemicals, pesticides, home. It was like the exposure happened to me. —Herrera

They only give that information to those who spray the pesticide, not to us field-workers. It’s as if we don’t have the right to know what is being applied. I link the pesticides to my pregnancy. My daughters were both born with slow-learning and hearing problems. I think what was affected a lot were my eyes, because I can’t go out in the sun without glasses, since my eyes get irritated easily with the sun and the air. —Alvarado Guzmán

Do you think those exposed to chemicals have resources to get help when needed?
If we are talking about the undocumented-immigrant community, they don’t go to get help. Last year, in January, some farmworkers told us that they worked in the orange and lemon fields and developed hives and a cough so extreme that they had to rest for two days to come back. They didn’t get paid, and they couldn’t say anything. —López Arciga

What the people in charge tell them is that it has nothing to do with work. They say, you have to go to your own doctor. Workers will be like, “Yeah, but I started feeling like this when you guys sprayed this. Could you guys give me the name of the chemical you guys used?” And the foreman will tell them, “It has nothing to do with the chemicals,” and say, “You probably have allergies. Go to the doctor and use your own insurance.” —Herrera

What changes would improve the lives of women working in that industry?
Wages. Wages that are acceptable for the great work that they do—that we do—in the fields to feed the people. Two, that their rights be fulfilled. I would like to see that women need not have to bear the cross of saying, “Because I am a woman, I have to put up with all this.” I would love if those laws or that the hard work that we do would reach all those women who, at this moment, are struggling in the fields. —López Arciga

Just have more respect. That’s something that I wish we could see more in the fields. You know, more respect for women. Give them the credit they deserve. Women, we’re amazing. We could do so many things, but a lot of men still have the mentality that we are only good for certain things. —Herrera

There should be more information in the workplaces. I was asked if there are trainings where they explain your rights. And I would tell them yes. But the company gives it to you in five minutes, and then gives you the written package. They never explain anything. There are rules that protect the workers, but we don’t know them because the company never shares them. —Alvarado Guzmán

How can people help?
Above all, donating and following and sharing our social media pages and sharing all the good resources out there, both to prevent abuses and to take action. —López Arciga

Talk more about these harsh conditions. If people don’t know about it, they don’t read about it, they’re not going to know it’s out there. —Herrera•

Join us on August 15 at 5 p.m. Pacific time, when Helena María Viramontes will sit down with CBC host John Freeman and special guest Manuel Muñoz to discuss Under the Feet of Jesus. Register for the Zoom conversation here.