The Fields That Harvested My Purpose

My summer memories growing up don’t include trips to Disneyland or family vacations. Instead, every summer my family migrated to Oregon to work as cherry pickers, and from a young age, I joined them in the fields.

It was 3:30 a.m. when the alarm scared me out of a deep sleep, but thankfully, it wasn’t my turn to make lunch, which meant I could savor 10 more precious minutes of sleep. My body ached as I tried to drift back off. Dad was already up, moving with the ease of someone whose internal clock never failed him — a trait I deeply envied.

Reluctantly, I pulled on yesterday’s jeans and hoodie. I wrapped my fingers in tape to protect them from the sharp sting of cherry stems, then laced up my work boots and headed out to the fields. The darkness made it impossible for me to remember where we’d left off the day before, but somehow, Dad always knew.

“Buenos días, Primo,” he greeted the worker in the next row. Primo, which translates to cousin, was a friendly way people addressed each other in the fields.

By the time the sun crested the horizon, I’d earned $9, the reward for filling three heavy buckets — each weighing up to 25 pounds — with cherries. I knew lunch time was approaching when I would catch myself wiping cherries on my hoodie and sneaking a few bites. Suddenly, the field would echo with shouts of “¡LONCHEEEEEE!” as workers announced it was time to eat. After quickly devouring our prepared sandwiches and chips in 15 minutes, we continued to pick until 3:00 sometimes 5:00 p.m.

“As I look back on those early mornings and long days, I realize the fields gave me more than aching muscles and sunburnt skin — they gave me a sense of purpose. The resilience and camaraderie I witnessed among farmworkers continue to drive my passion for farmworker health and is the reason I co-founded La Cosecha.“

Despite the relentless sun and backbreaking labor, the fields were alive with music, laughter, and a sense of community. No matter how tough the harvest, my dad’s optimism never wavered. He would always say, “Vamos a dejar los árboles temblando” — we’re going to leave the trees shaking.

At the end of a long, exhausting week, we would gather at the laundromat. The ladder-shaped imprints on everyone’s calves made it clear — we were all farmworkers. This shared experience is why the “Laundry Love” program, run by Friends of Fieldworkers, resonated so deeply with my vision for La Cosecha’s future: reaching more farmworkers with essential health information to help prevent occupational health hazards.

Farmwork is among the most physically demanding jobs, leaving little time or energy to seek health services. Combined with limited work benefits, these challenges have lasting impacts on the health of farmworkers. By meeting people where they are — in the spaces they already use — we can start to bridge this gap.

As I look back on those early mornings and long days, I realize the fields gave me more than aching muscles and sunburnt skin — they gave me a sense of purpose. The resilience and camaraderie I witnessed among farmworkers continue to drive my passion for farmworker health and is the reason I co-founded La Cosecha at the David Geffen School of Medicine at UCLA. As the eldest daughter of farmworkers, La Cosecha represents all the information and resources I wish my parents had.

Programs like “Laundry Love” remind me that small acts of care in familiar places can make a profound difference. By bringing health resources directly to farmworkers, we honor their hard work and help protect the hands that feed us all.

My journey back to the fields is rooted in gratitude and inspiration. The fields will always be a part of me, guiding my “why” and shaping the way I hope to serve.