By Julia Preston
Sunday, March 22, 2009
MORRISTOWN, Tennessee: The faithful stand and hold their hands high, raising a crescendo of prayer for abundance and grace. In the evangelical church where they are gathered, the folding chairs are filled with immigrants from Latin America.
Balbino López Hernández, who came here illegally from Mexico, closes his eyes to join the hallelujahs. But after the service Mr. López, 28, a factory worker who has been unemployed since June, shares his worries about jobs and immigration raids with other worshipers.
Like many places across the United States, this factory town in eastern Tennessee has been transformed in the last decade by the arrival of Hispanic immigrants, many of whom are in the country illegally. Thousands of workers like Mr. López settled in Morristown, taking low-paying jobs, some hazardous, in chicken plants and furniture factories.
Now, with the economy spiraling downward and a crackdown continuing on illegal immigrants, many of them are learning how uncertain their foothold is in the work force in the United States.
The economic troubles are widening the gap between illegal immigrants and Americans as they navigate the job market. Many Americans who lost jobs are turning to the government's unemployment safety net, with job assistance and unemployment insurance. But immigrants without legal status, by law, do not have access to it. Instead, as the recession deepens, illegal immigrants who have settled into American towns are receding from community life. They are clinging to low-wage jobs, often working more hours for less money, and taking whatever work they can find, no matter the conditions.
Despite the mounting pressures, many of the illegal immigrants are resisting leaving the country. After years of working here, they say, they have homes and education for their children, while many no longer have a stake to return to in their home countries.
"Most of the things I got are right here," Mr. López said in English, which he taught himself to speak. "I got my family, my wife, my kids. Everything is here."
Americans who are struggling for jobs move in a different world. Here, it revolves around the federally financed career center on Andrew Johnson Highway, a one-stop market for unemployment insurance and job retraining.
One worker who frequents the center is Joe D. Goodson Jr., 46, who was laid off more than a year ago from his job at a nearby auto parts plant. Born and raised in Morristown, Mr. Goodson said his savings had run low but his spirits were holding up, so far.
Through the career center, Mr. Goodson enrolled in retraining at a technology college. He believes that the government aid system, though inefficient and overwhelmed, will give him just enough support to survive the economic storm.
"I just try to look on the positive side always," Mr. Goodson said. "Work hard. Things get bad? Work harder."
What help there is for illegal immigrants in Morristown comes mainly from churches, like Centro Cristiano Betel Internacional, where Mr. López connects with a word-of-mouth network to find odd jobs.
Nationwide, Hispanic immigrants, both legal and illegal, saw greater job loss in 2008 than did Hispanics born in the United States or black workers, according to the Pew Hispanic Center. Nearly half of foreign-born Hispanics are illegal immigrants, according to the center, a nonpartisan research group in Washington.
Some illegal immigrants who lost jobs here, mostly workers with families back home, have left the country. Most are determined to stay. Employers, wary of immigration agents, now insist that workers have valid Social Security numbers. Mr. López, who does not have one, said, "Without the number, you are nothing in this country."
Though he is not a legal resident, Mr. López allowed his name and photograph to be published because his status is known to the immigration authorities.
As the recession worsens here — unemployment in this region was 11.2 percent in January, compared with 8.5 percent nationwide — Americans and immigrants are struggling, separately, to hold on to their gains. To date, tensions over jobs have not surfaced.
Some Americans in tough spots said that the jobs immigrants normally hold were a last resort.
Donnie Parker, 45, was laid off in September from his $14-an-hour job as a skilled machine mechanic at a Koch Foods poultry plant.
Because of a bureaucratic snag, Mr. Parker has not been able to collect unemployment insurance. After paying a mortgage for 13 years, he missed three payments and lost his house in December. He and his teenage son moved in with his 72-year-old mother.
He decided last week to apply for a few minimum-wage factory jobs that were advertised at the center after having avoided them until now.
"I didn't know it would get this bad and last this long," Mr. Parker said. "Seven dollars is better than no dollars."
Even in the recession, he said, it would not make financial sense for him to stay for long in that kind of job. "With my kid, I can't live on a minimum-wage job," Mr. Parker said. "There is no goal to reach. You're pretty much stuck."
Although Koch has hired more Americans this year for its poultry production lines, Mr. Parker is not thinking of going back there in a low-end job. "It's nasty and cold," he said.
Melissa B. Reynolds, the coordinator for the Five Rivers Regional Career Center, said Americans worried about receiving their benefits and getting help finding new jobs, not about competition from immigrants.
"We don't have anyone that has any beefs with the Latino population that I've seen come and go through here," Ms. Reynolds said.
Demetrios G. Papademetriou, president of the Migration Policy Institute, a nonpartisan research center, said that if Americans were forced to take jobs below their expectations for too long, competition — and animus — could increase.
"American people who are hurting economically for a long while may start to identify immigrants as the cause of that pain," Mr. Papademetriou said.
But Mr. Parker said he did not look to place blame. "It's not Hispanics I'm competing with," he said. "It's everybody. I'm not angry at no one who's trying to find a job and work. They're doing the same thing I'm doing."
Balbino López Hernández, who came here illegally from Mexico, closes his eyes to join the hallelujahs. But after the service Mr. López, 28, a factory worker who has been unemployed since June, shares his worries about jobs and immigration raids with other worshipers.
Like many places across the United States, this factory town in eastern Tennessee has been transformed in the last decade by the arrival of Hispanic immigrants, many of whom are in the country illegally. Thousands of workers like Mr. López settled in Morristown, taking low-paying jobs, some hazardous, in chicken plants and furniture factories.
Now, with the economy spiraling downward and a crackdown continuing on illegal immigrants, many of them are learning how uncertain their foothold is in the work force in the United States.
The economic troubles are widening the gap between illegal immigrants and Americans as they navigate the job market. Many Americans who lost jobs are turning to the government's unemployment safety net, with job assistance and unemployment insurance. But immigrants without legal status, by law, do not have access to it. Instead, as the recession deepens, illegal immigrants who have settled into American towns are receding from community life. They are clinging to low-wage jobs, often working more hours for less money, and taking whatever work they can find, no matter the conditions.
Despite the mounting pressures, many of the illegal immigrants are resisting leaving the country. After years of working here, they say, they have homes and education for their children, while many no longer have a stake to return to in their home countries.
"Most of the things I got are right here," Mr. López said in English, which he taught himself to speak. "I got my family, my wife, my kids. Everything is here."
Americans who are struggling for jobs move in a different world. Here, it revolves around the federally financed career center on Andrew Johnson Highway, a one-stop market for unemployment insurance and job retraining.
One worker who frequents the center is Joe D. Goodson Jr., 46, who was laid off more than a year ago from his job at a nearby auto parts plant. Born and raised in Morristown, Mr. Goodson said his savings had run low but his spirits were holding up, so far.
Through the career center, Mr. Goodson enrolled in retraining at a technology college. He believes that the government aid system, though inefficient and overwhelmed, will give him just enough support to survive the economic storm.
"I just try to look on the positive side always," Mr. Goodson said. "Work hard. Things get bad? Work harder."
What help there is for illegal immigrants in Morristown comes mainly from churches, like Centro Cristiano Betel Internacional, where Mr. López connects with a word-of-mouth network to find odd jobs.
Nationwide, Hispanic immigrants, both legal and illegal, saw greater job loss in 2008 than did Hispanics born in the United States or black workers, according to the Pew Hispanic Center. Nearly half of foreign-born Hispanics are illegal immigrants, according to the center, a nonpartisan research group in Washington.
Some illegal immigrants who lost jobs here, mostly workers with families back home, have left the country. Most are determined to stay. Employers, wary of immigration agents, now insist that workers have valid Social Security numbers. Mr. López, who does not have one, said, "Without the number, you are nothing in this country."
Though he is not a legal resident, Mr. López allowed his name and photograph to be published because his status is known to the immigration authorities.
As the recession worsens here — unemployment in this region was 11.2 percent in January, compared with 8.5 percent nationwide — Americans and immigrants are struggling, separately, to hold on to their gains. To date, tensions over jobs have not surfaced.
Some Americans in tough spots said that the jobs immigrants normally hold were a last resort.
Donnie Parker, 45, was laid off in September from his $14-an-hour job as a skilled machine mechanic at a Koch Foods poultry plant.
Because of a bureaucratic snag, Mr. Parker has not been able to collect unemployment insurance. After paying a mortgage for 13 years, he missed three payments and lost his house in December. He and his teenage son moved in with his 72-year-old mother.
He decided last week to apply for a few minimum-wage factory jobs that were advertised at the center after having avoided them until now.
"I didn't know it would get this bad and last this long," Mr. Parker said. "Seven dollars is better than no dollars."
Even in the recession, he said, it would not make financial sense for him to stay for long in that kind of job. "With my kid, I can't live on a minimum-wage job," Mr. Parker said. "There is no goal to reach. You're pretty much stuck."
Although Koch has hired more Americans this year for its poultry production lines, Mr. Parker is not thinking of going back there in a low-end job. "It's nasty and cold," he said.
Melissa B. Reynolds, the coordinator for the Five Rivers Regional Career Center, said Americans worried about receiving their benefits and getting help finding new jobs, not about competition from immigrants.
"We don't have anyone that has any beefs with the Latino population that I've seen come and go through here," Ms. Reynolds said.
Demetrios G. Papademetriou, president of the Migration Policy Institute, a nonpartisan research center, said that if Americans were forced to take jobs below their expectations for too long, competition — and animus — could increase.
"American people who are hurting economically for a long while may start to identify immigrants as the cause of that pain," Mr. Papademetriou said.
But Mr. Parker said he did not look to place blame. "It's not Hispanics I'm competing with," he said. "It's everybody. I'm not angry at no one who's trying to find a job and work. They're doing the same thing I'm doing."
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