Sometimes the flat expanse of corn fields in western Kansas are momentarily interrupted by a dairy farm.
Over the last couple decades, Kansas has hopped on the dairy train and those farms are becoming bigger and more common.
Major companies like Hilmar have set up shop, and with all the new investment, Kansas’ dairy industry could continue to grow. But that growth requires labor, and right now, the Kansas dairy explosion is being propped up by immigrants in mostly the rural western half of the state.
Some agriculture leaders say that immigrants play a vital role in the industry’s expansion.
“I don't think ag growth in those rural communities in Western Kansas can really happen without immigrant labor,” Kansas Livestock Association dairy industry relations director Cole Sjeklocha said.
For the region, this isn’t a new phenomenon. In the 1980s, meatpacking plants moved out of urban areas and relocated closer to cattle on the High Plains.
In the late 1990s, there was a shift in the dairy world. Dairy farms from California were looking to expand, but ran up against a lack of land and resources. Western Kansas became a hotspot, with miles of land and a history of large livestock operations like feedlots for beef. The region was also rich in agriculture that could deliver feed for the cows.
“Every one of those rural communities, the majority of the people that live there are employed in agriculture in some way, shape or form,” Sjeklocha said. “When a new opportunity comes or a new facility is being put in, usually those communities are pretty receptive.”
Dairy operators have trouble finding people who want to milk their herd. It’s not an easy job. The hours are long, and the cows need attention every single day, including holidays.
Immigrants have filled that role especially in the Midwest. A 2015 study from Texas A&M found that immigrants make up 51% of all dairy workers, while dairies that employ immigrant labor produce 80% of the U.S. milk supply. And that number has likely gone up since then.
In states with a high milk production, like Wisconsin, up to 70% of dairy workers are made up of immigrants, many without full legal status.
Inside one of the farms in southwest Kansas, fans roar to cool cows, people with power washers clean the floors and metal gates clank as they let in the new round of cows. Men wear boots and aprons and dart around attaching tubes to the waiting bovines.
One of those men is Paul, whose official name has been omitted because he’s worried about being targeted by immigration officials.
Paul’s story is similar to other workers in western Kansas. He left home in Guatemala at 16 to come to America after he had heard stories of the potential and prosperity for years. He referred to it as “the land of milk and honey.”
He bounced around meatpacking plants in Texas before finding his way to rural Kansas.
Today, he is in charge of the team that milks more than 4,000 cows twice a day.
“If you're willing to work really hard, you can handle it, but it feels really tough,” Paul said.
He’s seen plenty of people, including American born citizens, quit the job within a few days.
Paul’s employers tried to advertise job openings, but only six applications came in.
Back in Guatemala, Paul was skilled at working with livestock. He grew up around them, and that has helped him when working for large-scale facilities in rural Kansas. But despite his role in the industry and the region, he said he feels like a lot of people don’t see him as important.
“You go to the market, you pick out all these beautiful vegetables or get a gallon of milk — they’re already ready — but getting them from the farm to you is hard work,” Paul said. “Without immigrants, I don’t think it would happen.”
But Paul, his coworkers and even his employers have been on edge since immigration crackdowns have become common under the Trump administration.
He shared stories of his friends being deported back to Guatemala, only to die six months later from gang violence.
“People sometimes die at the hands of criminals in my home country, but people sometimes die at the hands of the authorities here,” Paul said.
Because of this, Paul said he’s been fearful from threats and rhetoric the last few years. But he has a family and needs to provide for them, and he also said he takes pride in his work providing milk.
Kansas Dairy Association director Chelsea Good said dairy farms and their workers provide stability and socioeconomic development for rural Kansas.
For example, Paul is a faithful person, often quoting Bible verses and thanking God for his opportunities. He is an active member of his church in the rural town.
Good said the opportunity to grow for towns of just a thousand residents is critical.
“Some of those jobs are on the dairy themselves, but some of those jobs (created) are providing the feed, providing the processing and even just jobs in the community to support additional people,” Good said.
Looking at towns like Syracuse or Plains, both saw population spikes in the 2000s after mega-dairies opened up, providing jobs for growing families. Those towns are now 40% to 50% Hispanic.
Mike Brouk, an expert in the dairy industry at Kansas State University, has watched the dairy industry explode in Kansas over the past couple of decades.
He recalls conversations with community members about the importance of those workers in small towns. Without them, the schools may not have enough students to operate.
“There are school board superintendents from out west that will tell you, if it wasn't for the kids from the dairy, we wouldn't still have a great school,” Brouk said.
Brouk said it’s an exciting time to be working with dairy, as Kansas is one of the fastest growing dairy industries in the country.
Brouk sees the future even brighter, saying that the “protein-maxxing” trend where people try to increase protein in their diet has increased dairy demand.
“If you go down to the snack aisle and you pick up a bag of chips that's high protein, you start reading through the ingredients — the protein source is probably actually whey protein,” Brouk said
Whey used to be just a byproduct, something the dairy farms discarded. But now with protein being such an important piece of people’s diets, it’s becoming a valuable commodity.
But there are still hurdles in the way of expanding rural towns and the Kansas dairy industry.
Both the Kansas Livestock Association and the Kansas Dairy Association stressed the importance of the Securing Agriculture’s Workforce Act. It’s a bill that was introduced this summer that would address the need for immigrant workers in the dairy industry.
Under current law, workers on H-2A visas are only allowed to perform seasonal agricultural work, like for harvest. Under the bill, the seasonal work requirement would be removed, allowing H-2A workers to qualify for agricultural work that occurs year-round.
The bill also establishes an H-2A visa pathway for current unauthorized agricultural workers who otherwise meet requirements.
Dairy farms are also a big consumer of feed. Growing the grains the cows eat requires billions of gallons of water from western Kansas’ water source, the Ogallala Aquifer. Combined with creating a sustainable workforce, the industry will need to navigate growing feed with less water available.
Back in southwest Kansas, Paul reflected on his journey and his job in the rural region.
“We’re all important. They don’t acknowledge us. We're migrants, some with papers, some without,” Paul said. “But we all eat just the same and all need food that has to be provided.”
Calen Moore covers western Kansas for High Plains Public Radio and the Kansas News Service. You can email him at cmoore@hppr.org.
The Kansas News Service is a collaboration of KCUR, Kansas Public Radio, KMUW and High Plains Public Radio.
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