Six times a week Philippa Thomas heads out from her Cochrane home with her dog Gaffer to go for 12-kilometre walks through woods, meadows and cow pastures.
Thomas’s four-hour treks are her moments to meditate; to put out of mind the agonizing pain she has endured since she injured her thumb almost seven years ago while working as a farm worker at a local equestrian facility.
At first the injury was just a small cut but it morphed into complex regional pain syndrome (CRPS), a chronic progressive disease characterized by severe pain, swelling, and changes in the skin. It progressed to her wrist, elbow, shoulder, and then to her neck. Ultimately, the condition rendered her right arm useless.
“I never knew a body could handle this amount of pain. My back teeth are all broken as I grind. I vomit every day, copious amounts,” said Thomas, 53.
To combat her CRPS, a spinal cord stimulator has been implanted in her back. She must wear morphine patches and take four daily doses of methadone for the pain.
“This is a forever thing. I will never get better,” she said.
Her walks give her the emotional strength to move forward on a sacred mission to acquire safety protection for the province’s 12,000 disenfranchised farm workers. They are a group of Alberta citizens, unlike their counterparts in every other province in Canada, not covered by health and safety legislation. They are also completely exempt from the Alberta Labour Relations Code, mandatory Workers Compensation Board coverage, and most provisions in the Employment Standards Code.
“It is constantly in my mind. It is what I need,” said Thomas of her quest to change government policy. “When I got hurt I finally got my voice.”
That voice is for the 477 Albertans who died in farm-related incidents between 1985 and 2011, an average of 17 a year. The Alberta Centre for Injury Control & Research reports that 87 per cent of the agriculture deaths between 1990 and 2009 were work related. Another 678 workers have been seriously injured in farm accidents over the past three decades.
“Most farm workers will not come forward because they would not only risk their jobs but also their homes, as a lot of farm workers live on the farm where they work. Apparently their lives are worth nothing, yet they are taxpaying members of society,” said Thomas.
“This is dangerous work and the workers are not even allowed to turn down a dangerous task for fear of being fired.”
These types of fears have long left Thomas. Her strength to keep fighting the provincial government for legislative equality is inspired by the mission of Eric Musekamp, president of the Farmworkers Union of Alberta.
With his wife Darlene Dunlop at his side, from their modest mobile home in Winnifred, a ghost town of just 18 souls in the County of Forty Mile No. 8 in southeastern Alberta, Musekamp has been a lonely voice battling the provincial government since 1999. That year, Taber farm worker Terry Rash was stabbed to death by his employer after accidentally tipping a water truck into a ditch.
The employer ultimately received a four-year jail sentence and Musekamp’s movement was born; a quest that has seen him blacklisted from working on farms, financially bankrupt, and even homeless for more than three years.
“When Terry was killed that really shocked everybody,” said Musekamp, who was working on a nearby farm at the time. “When I started to look into it I was shocked to find out that yes, child labour is perfectly legal, yes, you don’t have to pay overtime, don’t have to provide safety training or equipment or none of it. I was shocked.”
Like a persistent bulldog, Musekamp repeatedly brought his cause to successive provincial Tory governments. At first they ignored him but his perseverance slowly paid off. He has not yet achieved his reforms but politicians, from the premier to government ministers, now give him an audience. The meetings are not always cordial but the government can’t ignore Musekamp’s tenacity.
“It is a basic human rights issue. I consider it as fundamental as Rosa Parks wanting to sit on the front of the bus. It is as basic as that. Farm workers are persons, not animals,” said Musekamp. “Every person I reach about this issue is shocked and appalled, except for a small handful, the Wildrosers, farmers and ranchers.”
Musekamp’s arduous journey has experienced snail-paced movement, if any at all, from the province, which has been unwilling to interfere with the business of Alberta’s farming community.
In 2002, a government committee reviewing the provincial Labour Relations Code and headed by Richard Marz, the former MLA for Olds-Didsbury-Three Hills, recommended the government review agricultural labour relations “as soon as possible”. It noted the exclusion of farm workers could soon face constitutional challenges. Ten years later no movement has been made to include farm workers in the labour code.
Six years later, following a fatality inquiry into the death of farm worker Kevan Chandler near High River, provincial court Judge Peter Barley recommended that farm workers be covered by the Occupational Health and Safety Act (OHS). Again, no movement by the government.
In 2011, Premier Alison Redford pledged to both Musekamp and the media that she would protect farm workers. To date there has been no movement on the premier’s promise.
However, the government’s Farm Safety Advisory Council has moved to retain the status quo. In a leaked report in September, the council said proactive farm safety awareness would limit the need for legislation and regulations to reduce farm accidents.
Ron Casey, the Torys’ rural caucus chair and the MLA for Banff-Cochrane, said the farm safety issue has been discussed “many times” by caucus members and that the council’s report, which has not been officially released yet to the public, is still “working its way through government.
“We are giving it due process. It will come forward and hopefully we will see it released soon. It will be made public,” said Casey, who admitted he has not yet met or talked to Thomas, who he represents. “She (Redford) has made a commitment to move forward and will follow through with it.”
Farm and ranch operators, who have long been against reforms for workers, insist industry can regulate itself without government interference.
Musekamp has an unlikely political ally for reform. Bruce Rowe, the current Wildrose MLA for Olds-Didsbury-Three Hills, said “to not protect” farm workers is “wrong” and favours bringing in protective legislation for farm workers employed by larger corporate farming operations.
“Times are changing. We need to adapt,” said Rowe, adding his party is preparing official policy on the issue. “Twenty years ago you didn’t see these corporate farms. The reality is that corporate farms are much larger. Those workers are at risk.
“But leave the family farm alone,” he added. “If a neighbour wants to come and help, do you have to sign him on WCB? It doesn’t make sense at all.”
And that is just fine for Musekamp, who said he would accept legislation that would protect the family farm.
In the meantime, his fight against the provincial government continues, although there are some days he feels like throwing in the towel. It is often just too draining, too emotional.
“I fall into despair on a regular basis. There is a lot of frustration in my heart in that nothing progresses. I know that people are being damaged and injured unnecessarily,” said Musekamp. “I’m not particularly religious but I’m pretty sure God is making me do it because the strangest things happen to keep me going. Angels come when you need them.”
One of those angels is Thomas.
She vows to continue the cause as long as she is able to stand.
Every week there will still be those six long 12-kilometre walks to think about strategies for the farm worker, to relieve the never-ending pain, and to be grateful for the constant inspiration from Musekamp.
“We owe it all to him. It is because of his perseverance we have gotten so far,” said Thomas. “He has given up so much. He has nothing to gain. He does this because he knows the situation is just wrong.”
