Thanks for saving me the trouble of pointing that out. Too many here either have forgotten that, or never learned it. My parents and two oldest brother shared a tent for a couple of months, thanks to the Depression.
I'm not Hispanic, and I am totally anti illegal immigration, but Reality trumps politics. There are enough stories concerning illegals to not try attributing illegal status to every farmworker or Hispanic mentioned in the news.
Two of my older brothers spent some of their summer vacations picking fruit and knocking almonds in the 1950s. I spent some of my own summer vacations & fall weekends picking strawberries and knocking walnuts in the 1960s. It was work & money each of was greatfull to have.
I can attest that it is hot, hard, dirty work, and not something to aspire to as a 'career', but it is also honest work when performed by honest people, for honest employers.
My grandparents lost their farms in the Depression, and so they did what they knew--farm work--but they had to go to where the work was, including the kids (my parents' generation). Fortunately, all that was over by the time I was born. But, sometimes, when it's very hot and I'm out toiling in the garden for pleasure and picking veggies, etc., I think how it must have been to do that for a living on someone else's land. They used to tell me how they had worked even harder on their own land, but it didn't seem as hard because it was theirs and not someone else's.