War On Poverty, 50 Years Later
4:22 am
Sat May 31, 2014

In Confronting Poverty, 'Harvest Of Shame' Reaped Praise And Criticism

Originally published on Sat May 31, 2014 5:31 pm

Fifty years ago this year, President Lyndon Johnson launched his war on poverty; But just a few years before that, CBS gave millions of Americans a close look at what it means to live in poverty.

In the world of journalism, CBS' Peabody Award-winning documentary Harvest of Shame is considered a milestone for its unflinching examination of the plight of migrant farmworkers in the United States. The CBS investigative report was the first time millions of Americans were given a close look at what it means to live in poverty. The producers — Fred Friendly, Edward R. Murrow and David Lowe — made no secret of their goal: They wanted to shock Americans into action. To maximize its impact, CBS aired the documentary — about the people who pick fruits and vegetables — the day after Thanksgiving. Murrow, perhaps the most recognized journalist of the day, delivered their message with a sense of urgency. "We present this report on Thanksgiving because, were it not for the labor of the people you are going to meet, you might not starve, but your table would not be laden with the luxuries that we have all come to regard as essentials," he said in his narration.

Harvest of Shame begins in an open lot, crowded with men and women looking for jobs. It's what's called a "shape-up" for migrant workers. Crew leaders yell out the going rate for that day's pay and men and women pack onto the backs of large trucks that drive them to the fields. One farmer told CBS, "We used to own our slaves. Now we just rent them."

The film is full of vivid, black and white images reminiscent of Depression-era photographers Dorothea Lange and Walker Evans. In it, African-Americans and whites; weary mothers, fathers and their children recount their stories to producer Lowe. Sitting with her nine children, one woman tells Lowe that an average dinner is a pot of beans or potatoes. As for milk, she reluctantly admits the children might have it once a week, when she draws a paycheck.

The day after it aired, The New York Times' review said Harvest of Shame was "uncompromising in its exposure of filth, despair and grinding poverty that are the lot of the migratory workers." Former CBS News anchor and correspondent Dan Rather told NPR, "Nobody but nobody had taken an hour to do this kind of expose." He describes the tone as "somber" and the style as "part expose journalism, part a deep-digging, investigative report."

The Soil's Meager Fortunes

The CBS crew spent nine months filming Harvest of Shame, traveling from Florida to New Jersey to California. They filmed in rundown labor camps and talked to workers in the fields. Many of the migrants were from Belle Glade, Fla., a town whose motto is "Her soil is her fortune." For the generations of workers who've spent grueling hours on the soil — or "muck" — those fortunes have been meager.

Teresa Osborn, a 54-year-old middle school teacher in Belle Glade, says it was merciless work. Her grandfather was a crew leader interviewed by CBS for Harvest of Shame. "You go from sunup to sundown and you look at the amount of money you bring in and a lot of times it just didn't make ends meet. It's almost like you were working for that day," Osborn says, "and then the next day had to take care of itself, and the next had to take care of itself. And it was hard to save and put away money. So you were always looking for work."

Osborn credits Harvest of Shame with making the rest of America look at how people who didn't have a voice were living. But there was also criticism of the documentary, even from some of the migrants themselves. Take Allean King, who was interviewed while she was picking beans. When CBS' Lowe asked her how much she earned, King said $1. Years later, she told Florida's Sun Sentinel that she actually made $10 to $15 a day; when CBS interviewed her, she said $1 because she'd only worked two hours so far that day.

In one of the most dramatic moments in the documentary, Lowe interviews King's 9-year-old son, Jerome, who's watching his baby sisters. The camera cuts to the kitchen counter, where flies swarm around a pot of beans, then it cuts to a ripped up section of the mattress Jerome sleeps on. When Lowe asks how the hole got there, Jerome tells him, "The rats."

"It was not rats," says Teresa Osborn, who is Jerome King's cousin. "I mean, that was just ... Jerome giving his depiction of things." Osborn says the producers "took the first thing out of his mouth."

More Than 50 Years Later, Problems Persist

After it aired, members of Congress and the farm lobby kicked into gear to discredit Harvest of Shame, saying it was distorted and one-sided. Time wrote that the documentary was an "exaggerated portrait."

But Greg Schell, an attorney with the Migrant Farmworker Justice Project, believes the images of the dire working conditions for migrants spoke for themselves. "The impact of Harvest of Shame cannot be underestimated in terms of what it produced," he says.

By today's standards — under which most outlets are careful not to sound like they're in favor of anything — Harvest of Shame feels more like advocacy than journalism. In his closing remarks, Murrow looks squarely into the camera and urges viewers to take action: "The people you have seen have the strength to harvest your fruit and vegetables. They do not have the strength to influence legislation. Maybe we do."

"Edward R. Murrow was a crusader," Schell says. "He came and said, 'We can change this, people, if you get aroused and demand that the government and Congress react.' And Congress did react." Schell credits the film with helping push forward legislation that was already pending in Congress, like funding for health services to migrant workers and education for migrants' children.

Whatever changes Harvest of Shame might have helped bring about, migrant workers are still living in poverty. TV news teams have tried to cover why these problems persist in segments that have revisited the documentary on anniversaries of its airing. NBC sent Chet Huntley to Belle Glade in 1970. He closes his report thusly: "It has been 10 years since Edward R. Murrow made Harvest of Shame. We hope that no one will need to make a film about migrants 10 years from now."

But they did: NBC went back to Belle Glade in 1990 and CBS went back in 1995, and then again in 2010. Schell believes the TV news stories covering migrant workers have gotten tired. He says, "They're increasingly characterized by a sense of resignation, that these problems are intractable and nothing's going to change."

Schell admits some of these problems are hard to solve. Take the link between immigration policy and wages. Today many of the field workers are from other countries like Mexico and Haiti. They're often paid by the piece, meaning the more fruit or vegetables they pick, the more they get paid. Since 1966, they're also covered under minimum wage.

"Under the law, the worker is guaranteed the minimum wage no matter how many or how few pieces he picks," Schell says. "If piece rates are set properly, the diligent worker will make well above the minimum wage. But because of a chronic surplus of labor, most piece rates are set very low and the fastest workers cannot earn the minimum wage. But the workers don't understand the minimum wage guarantee. That's a secret the employers like to keep from them."

The Morning Shape-Up Continues

In today's Belle Glade, men and women still gather around 5 a.m. in the same lot you see at the beginning of Harvest of Shame, waiting for buses to take them to the fields. The "loading ramp," as it's called, is a bleak, empty lot, surrounded by some small buildings with bars on the windows and a boarded up storefront.

Leroy Akins, 35, is a third generation farm worker. He helps his crew leader find workers and makes boxes for the corn picked during the harvest. By the time Akins was a teenager, his parents and grandparents had him working in the fields. "So I grew into like it was a hobby for me," he says. "If I wasn't doing it then I probably wouldn't be doing it now."

City officials recently decided to demolish the loading ramp and turn it into a park. Akins was surprised to hear about the plans, but he says it won't stop the early morning shape-up. The crew leaders, he says, will "pick workers up from their houses if they have to." After all, somebody has to pick the corn and cut the sugar cane, even though it's among the worst paid jobs in the country. Today the average farm worker makes about $10,000 a year.

Copyright 2014 NPR. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.

Transcript

SCOTT SIMON, HOST:

This is WEEKEND EDITION from NPR News. I'm Scott Simon. We're going to hear, now, about a landmark documentary. In 1960, CBS aired "Harvest Of Shame," about the plight of migrant farmworkers. It was the first time millions of Americans were given a hard look at what it means to live in poverty, and it aired the day after Thanksgiving.

(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, "HARVEST OF SHAME")

EDWARD R. MURROW: We present this report on Thanksgiving because were it not for the labor of the people you're going to meet, you might not starve, but your table would not be laden with the luxuries that we have all come to regard as essentials.

SIMON: That was Edward R Murrow, perhaps the most recognized journalist of the day. Now in broadcast journalism history, "Harvest Of Shame" is considered groundbreaking, but did it change anything? As part of our year-long series marking the 50th anniversary of President Lyndon Johnson's war on poverty, NPR's Elizabeth Blair reports.

ELIZABETH BLAIR, BYLINE: It begins in an open lot crowded with men and women looking for jobs. Crew leaders yell out the going rate for that day's pay.

(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, "HARVEST OF SHAME")

UNIDENTIFIED MAN: Eight, seven bucks and you got to you and if you pull today, and we pull what we got to pull today you'll have $11 in your pocket.

BLAIR: It's called a shape-up for migrant workers. Men and women packed onto the backs of large trucks that drove them off to the fields.

(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, "HARVEST OF SHAME")

MURROW: One farmer looked at this and said, we used to own our slaves. Now we just rent them.

BLAIR: African-Americans and whites, weary mothers and fathers and their children told their stories to CBS producer David Lowe.

(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, "HARVEST OF SHAME")

DAVID LOWE: What is an average dinner for the family?

UNIDENTIFIED WOMAN: Well, we just - you mean, what do we have in...

LOWE: Yes.

UNIDENTIFIED WOMAN: We - well, I cook a pot of beans and fry some potatoes or some corn or something like that.

LOWE: How many quarts of milk do you buy for the children?

UNIDENTIFIED WOMAN: Well, we don't - I don't - we don't have milk except maybe when we draw our paycheck, we have milk about once a week.

BLAIR: The day after "Harvest Of Shame" aired, The New York Times said it was uncompromising in its exposure of filth, despair and grinding poverty that are the lot of the migratory workers.

DAN RATHER: Nobody but nobody on American television had taken an hour to do this kind of expose.

BLAIR: Former CBS news anchor and correspondent, Dan Rather.

RATHER: The tone was somber, serious, direct. The style was part expose journalism - part a deep, digging investigative report.

BLAIR: The CBS crew spent nine months filming "Harvest Of Shame" from Florida to New Jersey across to California. They filmed in run-down labor camps and talked to workers in the fields. Many of them were from Belle Glade Florida, a town whose motto is, her soil is her fortune.

TERESA OSBORN: It was a hard job. You go from sunup to sundown. And you look at the amount of money that you bring in, and a lot of times it just didn't make ends meet.

BLAIR: Teresa Osborn is a middle school teacher in Belle Glade. Some of her relatives were interviewed for "Harvest Of Shame."

OSBORN: It's almost like you were working for that day, and then the next day had to take care of itself. And it was hard to save and put away monies and stuff, you know, so you always were looking for work.

BLAIR: Osborn credits "Harvest Of Shame" with making the rest of America look at how people who didn't have a voice were living. But there was also criticism of the documentary, even from some of the migrants themselves. Take Allean King, who was interviewed while she was picking beans.

(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, "HARVEST OF SHAME")

LOWE: How much did you earn?

ALLEAN KING: A dollar.

LOWE: One dollar?

A. KING: That's right, one dollar.

BLAIR: Years later, Allean King told The Sun-Sentinel in Florida, she actually made 10 to 15 dollars a day. When CBS interviewed her, she said one dollar because she'd only worked two hours. She had more hours to go. In one of the most dramatic moments in the documentary, producer David Lowe interviews Allean King's nine-year-old son, Jerome. He's watching his baby sisters. The camera cuts to the kitchen counter where flies swarm around a pot of beans. Then, it cuts to a ripped up section of the mattress Jerome sleeps on.

(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, "HARVEST OF SHAME")

LOWE: How did you get that whole in that bed there, Jerome?

JEROME KING: The rats.

LOWE: The what?

J. KING: Rats.

BLAIR: Jerome King is Teresa Osborn's cousin.

OSBORN: That was not rats. I mean, that was just Mitch saying what it was, but...

BLAIR: Jerome King?

OSBORN: Yeah, Jerome.

BLAIR: The boy.

OSBORN: That was Jerome giving his depiction of what it was, but give him time to get it right. No, it wasn't rats. It wasn't rats.

BLAIR: After it aired, members of Congress and the farm lobby kicked into gear to discredit the documentary, saying it was distorted and one-sided. Time Magazine wrote that "Harvest Of Shame" was an exaggerated portrait. But Greg Schell, an attorney with the Migrant Farmworkers Justice Project, believes the images of the working conditions for migrants spoke for themselves.

GREG SCHELL: The impact of "Harvest Of Shame" cannot be underestimated in terms of what it produced.

BLAIR: Schell says the documentary helped push forward legislation that was already pending in Congress, like funding for health services to migrant workers and education for migrants' children.

SCHELL: Edward R. Murrow was a crusader. He came and said, we can change this, people, if you get aroused and demand that the government and Congress react. And Congress did react.

(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, "HARVEST OF SHAME")

MURROW: The people you have seen have the strength to harvest your fruit and vegetables. They do not have the strength to influence legislation. Maybe we do. Goodnight and good luck.

BLAIR: But whatever changes "Harvest Of Shame" might have helped bring about, migrant workers are still living in poverty. TV news teams have tried to cover why these problems persist in segments that have revisited "Harvest Of Shame" on anniversaries of its airing. NBC sent Chet Huntley to Belle Glade in 1970.

(SOUNDBITE OF TV SHOW, "NBC NEWS")

CHET HUNTLEY: It has been ten years since Edward R. Murrow made "Harvest Of Shame." We hope that no one will need to make a film about migrants ten years from now.

BLAIR: But they did. NBC went back in 1990. CBS went back in 1995 and then again in 2010. Gregory Schell believes the TV news stories covering migrant workers have gotten tired.

SCHELL: They're increasingly characterized by a sense of resignation - that this - that these programs are intractable and nothing's going to change.

BLAIR: Schell admits some of these problems are hard to solve. Take the link between immigration policy and wages. Today, many of the field workers are from other countries like Mexico and Haiti. They're often paid by the piece, meaning the more fruit or vegetables they pick, the more they get paid. And since 1966, they're also covered under minimum wage.

SCHELL: Under the law, the worker is guaranteed the minimum wage, no matter how many or how few pieces he picks. Now, if piece rates are set properly, the diligent worker will make well above the minimum wage, but because of a chronic surplus of labor, most piece rates are set very low. And the fastest workers cannot earn the minimum wage. But the workers don't understand the minimum wage guarantee. That's a secret the employers like to keep from them.

BLAIR: Back in Belle Glade, Florida, men and women still gather around 5 a.m. in the same lot you see at the beginning of "Harvest Of Shame," waiting for buses to take them to the fields.

LEROY AKINS: How many? Seven...

UNIDENTIFIED MAN: Same thing yesterday.

AKINS: Huh?

UNIDENTIFIED MAN: Same thing as yesterday.

AKINS: Same thing yesterday.

BLAIR: Thirty-five-year-old Leroy Akins helps his crew leader find workers. He also makes boxes for the corn they'll pick that day. He says his parents and grandparents all did farm work and had him doing it when he was a teenager.

AKINS: So I grew into it, like, it's a hobby for me. If I wouldn't have probably been doing it then, I probably wouldn't be doing it now.

BLAIR: The loading ramp, as it's called, is a bleak, empty lot surrounded by some small buildings with bars on the windows, a boarded-up storefront. City officials recently decided to demolish the lot and turn it into a park. Leroy Akins was surprised to hear about the plans, but he says it won't stop the early morning shape-up.

AKINS: I'm pretty sure they got more places for buses.

BLAIR: Where else would they do it?

AKINS: Well, they - anywhere. They'd come pick you up from the house if they have to.

BLAIR: Somebody has to pick the corn and cut the sugarcane, even though it's among the worst paid jobs in the country. Today, the average farm worker makes about $10,000 a year. Elizabeth Blair, NPR News. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.