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Worker organizing points the way forward, reminding us that the fight for safe working conditions is inseparable from the fight for dignity, racial justice, and migrant rights.
As temperatures shattered records across North America this summer, Jeremiah, a greenhouse worker in Ontario’s Seasonal Agricultural Worker program, stepped inside a plastic tunnel where the heat doubled the 32°C (89.6°F) outside. Within hours, workers fainted and vomited, while supervisors worried only about the plants. Another day, Jeremiah himself had to be carried out on a cart after collapsing.
Unwilling to put up with the conditions any longer, Jeremiah and his coworkers came together on one of the season’s worst days to demand managers implement safer conditions. Using broken Spanish, “tu casa, mucho calor,” they signaled to fellow Mexican, Guatemalan, and Honduran workers to walk out in unison, knowing they’re stronger when united.
Jeremiah’s story is not unusual. Across the food chain, from farm fields and greenhouses to warehouses and kitchens, workers are enduring escalating, life-threatening heat. What is new is how boldly they are organizing for change.
I have been an organizer with Justicia for Migrant Workers (J4MW) for 25 years. In that time, I have seen how rising temperatures and more frequent heatwaves have transformed the daily lives of migrant and food system workers. And I have also witnessed something else: workers resisting, demanding protections, and refusing to be sacrificed to profit and climate inaction.
The climate crisis is not some distant threat; it is here, bearing down on workers who already face some of the most exploitative conditions.
Workers themselves are the most credible experts on what is happening. At a 2024 People’s Tribunal hosted by the Food Chain Workers Alliance (FCWA), dozens of testimonies revealed the same pattern: temperatures climbing, employers refusing to adapt, and workers bearing the cost.
Lelo, a farmworker from Washington, remembers when rain was the biggest concern back when he started picking berries in 2012. "When I started picking berries, I didn’t see workers pass out… in 2022 I saw and heard about many."
A farmworker in Florida, with 18 years in the fields, reported temperatures now reaching 105°F (40.5°C) with little protection from managers. "The bosses do not adapt… There are times when they give us water, but when we tell them it's over, they don't give us more.”
Heat dangers are not limited to farm workers. Lorena, a warehouse worker in Illinois, described how tin roofs trap suffocating heat. “Employers could give workers water or 15 minutes every hour to get some fresh air, or reduce the speed of the machines, but they don’t,” she said. “The office managers don’t notice it because they’re comfortable with air conditioning.”
Ingrid, a restaurant worker in New York, spoke about kitchen conditions: “The heat is overwhelming, tiring, and it lasts all day. There’s no time to go to the bathroom or get a drink of water. The only thing we can do is hydrate before we get in and use wet towels on our bodies while we work.”
These are not isolated grievances; they are the lived realities of a workforce that feeds millions while being denied basic safety.
International agencies have started to catch up. The World Health Organization and World Meteorological Organization recently warned that “protecting workers from extreme heat is not just a health imperative but an economic necessity.” Their new report underscores what workers have long said: Productivity drops as temperatures rise, and unchecked exposure leads to kidney disease, heatstroke, and premature death. According to the International Labour Organization, more than 2.4 billion people worldwide are exposed to workplace heat stress. That is nearly1 in every 3 workers on Earth.
Yet policymakers in North America are moving backward. In Ontario, the provincial government promised heat protections in 2023, only to quietly kill them a year later. In the United States, agricultural and construction lobbyists have stalled a federal heat stress law. These retreats are not neutral; they are a direct assault on racialized and immigrant working-class communities, who make up the backbone of the food system.
Faced with government inaction, workers are taking the lead. This summer, on one of the hottest days yet, Ontario farmworkers and allies staged a street protest. They fried eggs on the pavement outside the Ministry of Labour and inside a car that reached 68°C (154.4°F). Their message was unmissable: The conditions we endure at work are deadly. When the minister refused to act, they called it what it was—environmental racism.
Acts of resistance like these are multiplying. Whether walking off the job, holding tribunals, or staging creative protests, workers are asserting that survival should not depend on employer goodwill. They are demanding enforceable regulations: access to shade and water, mandated rest breaks, and the right to stop work in unsafe conditions. And they are insisting that climate justice is part of migrant justice. Because for local workers and seasonal guest workers alike, it's nearly impossible to exert your right to protections when employers can hold the threat of immigration law over your head. That's why we support permanent status for all migrant workers.
This is a fight that stretches across borders and industries. Under guest worker schemes like Canada’s Seasonal Agricultural Worker Program or the US H-2A system, bosses often pit workers of different nationalities against one another. Yet when Jeremiah and his colleagues risked retaliation to walk out together, they showed the power of cross-border solidarity. That spirit echoes in warehouses, restaurants, and processing plants where workers are refusing to be divided by language, status, or immigration papers.
The climate crisis is not some distant threat; it is here, bearing down on workers who already face some of the most exploitative conditions. Governments may drag their feet, but workers are on the move. Their organizing points the way forward, reminding us that the fight for safe working conditions is inseparable from the fight for dignity, racial justice, and migrant rights.
When the heat rises, so do workers. And if we want a food system that is sustainable, just, and resilient in the face of climate change, we must follow their lead.
We must reimagine a world where freedom and equality are guaranteed to all, no matter their status.
There are two main paths to citizenship in the United States: birthright, which is guaranteed to those born on US soil or to citizen parents, and naturalization, a process applied for after immigrating.
The Trump administration is attempting to upend these long-held and widely accepted rules, arguing for an end to birthright citizenship, which is constitutionally protected, while attacking the naturalization status of populations across the country.
These attacks on citizenship come amid a substantial investment in immigration crackdowns. The so-called “Big Beautiful Bill” allocates an unprecedented $178 billion toward immigration enforcement, a figure higher than the military budgets of entire nations and a price tag 13 times greater than Immigration and Customs Enforcement’s (ICE) already booming budget.
And we know exactly what this expansion will be used for.
America’s immigration system must honor human rights for everyone, especially those at the margins.
In just the first few months of the Trump administration, ICE agents donning masks and unmarked clothing have surveilled, interrogated, and kidnapped individuals off the streets en masse. Arbitrary arrest quotas fill overcrowded, inhumane, and unsanitary detention centers. And despite claims that only “criminals” are being targeted, people of all backgrounds—including students, politicians, children, and U.S.-born citizens—are being arrested and abused, stripped of their dignity and humanity.
Trump is undoubtedly culpable for these abuses. But he did not invent the playbook. He simply adapted the rules long built into this country’s citizenship policies—both the implicit and explicit ones.
US citizenship has always been negotiated between those the state deemed worthy and unworthy. Race and gender have long restricted individuals from obtaining citizenship and the privileges granted with it. The 14th Amendment, the guarantor of jus soli, transformed the status and rights of all those to come—myself included. I would not be a US citizen without this code.
But documents and formalities cannot erase the existence of an informal, second-class citizenry that continues to pervade American society.
Native Americans, Indigenous peoples native to these lands, were denied this framework of legality and excluded from guaranteed citizenship for generations. Systems of oppression, domination, and exclusion allowed white bodies to be favored over Black and brown ones—even when they held and waved that landmark document, demanding their civil liberties be guaranteed and protected. Those born in U.S. territories like Puerto Rico and Guam continue to lack meaningful electoral rights and, in American Samoa’s case, even citizenship itself.
An examination of the difficult and lengthy naturalization process reveals further discrepancies. Volume 12 Part F states that individuals must possess “good moral character” to become naturalized, a measure that is both vague and arbitrary. Any conduct or act that deviates from a community’s moral standard is grounds for both denial of citizenship and denaturalization if citizenship is already obtained.
But how is morality defined? Immoral behavior is outlined by the state—murder, aggravated felonies, genocide, and torture are some examples listed. But aggravated felonies also include failing to appear in court. So when we see ICE arresting immigrants at court hearings and scaring others from appearing out of fear of arrest, suddenly the intent behind these actions becomes clear.
In this system, any action or inaction becomes punishable—including the “crime” of being an immigrant. Notably, this “moral character” clause has existed since the Naturalization Act of 1790—a reminder that these pursuits are not a recent political development but built into our founding documents.
Now, the Justice Department is expanding its criteria for denaturalization, using the definitions established by Congress centuries ago. A recent Justice Department memo orders those accused of involvement with terrorist, gang, or cartel groups to be targeted for deportation or even stripped of their citizenship, an indicator of their “immoral character.”
But the administration’s definition of “terrorism” and “criminal involvement” is both flawed and targeted. Kilmar Abrego Garcia, accused of being a member of MS-13, an international criminal gang, was wrongfully deported and imprisoned in El Salvador without due process—a move that was actually illegal, given that a court order barred his deportation to El Salvador on account of the gang threats and violence he faced there.
In another example, Rümeysa Öztürk, a PhD student at Tufts, cowrote an op-ed criticizing the university’s response to resolutions passed by its student body about Israel’s violations of international law. She was subsequently kidnapped and detained in an ICE prison for months.
These are simply two instances of a series of repeated offenses committed by the US government. In an effort to apprehend and throw out immigrants en masse, the state criminalizes individuals for free speech and seeking asylum.
Elsewhere, the right to vote is denied to citizens the US deems unworthy of representation. Essential rights and civil liberties are being stripped from legal residents, mitigating access to the freedoms that have defined America for centuries. More and more individuals are sorted into different tiers of citizenship, soon leaving few with the guarantee of liberty and justice promised to all.
For all its extremism and cruelty, the Trump administration is simply using the tools already available to them. Citizenship requirements contain too many loopholes that are easily exploited. So for progressives, opposing restrictive immigration policies is not enough. We must move beyond an idea of “citizenship” that only guarantees rights according to an individual’s status and reimagine a world that respects the freedom and equality of all people no matter their status.
If “morality” is a requirement for entry, then anything can be redefined as “immoral.” Economic metrics of inclusion fail for the same reason. Nations should not prioritize people solely based on what they can provide to employers. The argument that “immigrants help our economy” only emphasizes the need for individuals with economic value.
America’s immigration system must honor human rights for everyone, especially those at the margins. Those seeking asylum, refuge, education, or simply a better life should not be denied access to civil liberties and fundamental freedoms.
Aren’t these the true American values?
"When we protect refugees, we protect our values and the belief that everyone deserves a chance to live free and safe," said congresswoman and refugee Ilhan Omar.
Amid President Donald Trump's barrage of executive orders banning refugee entry into the United States and ending protected status for immigrants from some of the world's most unsafe and destabilized countries, Amnesty International led human rights defenders Friday in a World Refugee Day plea to the U.S. administration and other governments to "protect, not punish" people seeking refuge from violence, repression, and impoverishment.
Trump's dizzying attacks on refugees and other immigrants started at the beginning of his first term and continued apace upon his return to the White House. The Republican president signed decrees declaring an "invasion" of "aliens" and ordering the border sealed; barred asylum claims on U.S. soil, ramped up migrant detention in a boon to the private prison industry, and deputized state and local police for purposes of immigration enforcement.
The president has also deployed the military to the border, expanded expedited removal, rolled back temporary protected status (TPS) programs, suspended nearly all refugee resettlement, revived the "remain in Mexico" migration management policy, halted international humanitarian aid programs, and moved to end constitutionally guaranteed birthright citizenship.
Refugees and asylum-seekers from countries including Afghanistan, Cameroon, Cuba Haiti, Nepal, Nicaragua, and Venezuela have been stripped of TPS, a move with life-and-death implications for many people, including Afghans who risked their lives to aid the U.S. invasion and occupation of a country now ruled by the Taliban they opposed. Refugees fleeing Russia's ongoing invasion of Ukraine are also in limbo following the Trump administration's suspension of a temporary humanitarian program.
Meanwhile, Trump has admitted a number of white South Africans as refugees, citing bogus claims of "white genocide" amplified by white nationalist figures including multibillionaire Elon Musk and senior adviser Stephen Miller. Some of these Afrikaners now say they have been left stranded without adequate support from the government that ostensibly welcomed them into the United States.
"At the same time, the United States has escalated mass immigration raids, is detaining and separating families, is unlawfully removing individuals from the U.S. with no due process guarantees, and is criminally prosecuting individuals for the way in which they entered the country—treating people in need of international protection as criminals," Amnesty International said Friday.
According to Amnesty:
These harmful policies have rippled across the region. Costa Rica and Panama have accepted deportation flights of third-country nationals from the United States—many with ongoing asylum claims—leaving them stranded with limited access to humanitarian assistance and international protection. El Salvador is complicit in the enforced disappearance of hundreds of Venezuelans illegally expelled from the U.S. under the guise of the Alien Enemies Act in the notorious [Terrorism Confinement Center] prison, who were in the midst of ongoing court processes, were arrested while complying with their immigration obligations, were already granted protections in the United States including under the Convention Against Torture, and were labeled as gang members for their tattoos or connection to the Venezuelan state of Aragua with no other evidence.
"On World Refugee Day, we are witnessing a devastating erosion of the rights of people seeking safety and asylum protections across the Americas," Amnesty International Americas director Ana Piquer said in a statement Friday.
World Refugee Day rally with diverse faith communities denouncing the Trump administration shutting the door to refugees.
[image or embed]
— Guthrie Graves-Fitzsimmons (@guthriegf.bsky.social) June 20, 2025 at 8:56 AM
"The Trump administration has issued a barrage of executive actions which have halted the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program and make it nearly impossible to seek asylum in the United States, placing countless lives at risk," Piquer added. "These policies have already resulted in thousands of people being forcibly returned to places where their lives or safety are at risk. Currently, there is no longer any way for people to seek asylum at the U.S.-Mexico border. This is not only unlawful but inhumane and cruel."
Congresswoman Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.), a refugee from Somalia, marked World Refugee Day in a social media post saying, "As the Trump administration attacks refugees, turning their pain into political stunts, closing doors when we should be opening them, we have a responsibility to stand with refugees no matter where they come from."
"When we protect refugees, we protect our values and the belief that everyone deserves a chance to live free and safe," Omar added.
Sen. Tim Kaine (D-Va.) posted Friday on Bluesky: "This World Refugee Day, I'm thinking of the millions of people displaced by persecution and violence. I condemn the Trump [administration's] decision to halt refugee resettlement—slamming the door on thousands of people who have been properly vetted and approved to come to the U.S."
Amnesty noted that "the situation is further exacerbated by the U.S. government's severe cuts to foreign assistance, which have weakened shelters and frontline organizations that provide lifesaving support to people seeking safety and internally displaced people."
"From Costa Rica to Mexico to the Haiti-Dominican Republic border, organizations have been forced to scale back or close food, shelter, and legal and psychosocial programs for people seeking safety, just as need grows," the group continued.
"On World Refugee Day, Amnesty International urgently calls on states in the Americas to protect, not punish, people seeking safety," Amnesty added. "States must immediately restore access to asylum, reverse discriminatory policies, and uphold their obligations under international law. We stand in solidarity with people across the region who have been forced to flee their homes in search of safety and dignity. Seeking safety is a human right. It's time for governments to act like it."