EDINBURG — Romelia Torres does not always have an easy job.

Romelia Torres, migrant clerk, walks up to a mobile home as part of the Migrant neighborhood identification and Recruitment Program as she goes door to door in a neighborhood on Monday, Nov. 29, 2021, in north Edinburg. (Joel Martinez | [email protected])

A migrant clerk at Edinburg CISD’s Longoria Middle School, Torres is on the front lines of the district’s migrant neighborhood identification and recruitment program, which goes into local communities to sign migrant families up for federally funded supplemental programs in the school district.

Torres returned to door knocking for the first time in the better part of a year this semester, revisiting communities that on the surface looked much the same as when the pandemic began but had changed less visibly.

She was doing that Monday morning in a neighborhood off Monte Cristo Road in northwest Edinburg.

The morning featured one of the chief hazards of Torres’ job: dogs.

A constant presence in many of Edinburg’s more rural neighborhoods, unrestrained canines aren’t always friendly to representatives from Edinburg CISD. Frequently, migrant recruitment employees will honk when they pull up to a house, to see if residents will meet them outside or to flush out any lurking hounds.

Torres had a near miss Monday. She was talking to a woman when her dog jumped out and nipped at Torres’ heels. The dog missed Torres’ leg but caught her pant leg.

Still, Monday morning was a success — the district signed up a new family that migrated to the area over Thanksgiving with four kids.

Romelia Torres, migrant clerk, walks up to a mobile home as part of the Migrant neighborhood identification and Recruitment Program as she goes door to door in a neighborhood on Monday, Nov. 29, 2021, in north Edinburg. (Joel Martinez | [email protected])

“We picked up four students,” Torres said. “One from the high school, one from the middle school and two from the elementary.”

Torres had less luck that afternoon. She talked to two women to see if they would qualify for the migrant program, asking if any of their family worked in agriculture and whether they had any kids in school.

No dice; the families didn’t qualify.

Torres remained undeterred.

That neighborhood’s dogs hadn’t been quite as aggressive, plus she’s used to striking out. Edinburg CISD’s migrant recruitment program finds more people who don’t qualify than people who do.

When migrant clerks do find families that qualify, the sort of aid the program provides can be incredibly meaningful, Torres said.

“I have families that have up to 10 kids,” she said. “And that’s a lot of money on school supplies that they don’t have to spend, because we provide that to them. And clothing, and shoes and they get extra help.”

Migrant neighborhood identification and Recruitment Program members gather and coordinate at R.C. “Fito” Flores Mark A. Zapata Elementary on Monday, Nov. 29, 2021, in Edinburg. (Joel Martinez | [email protected])

Torres said her job looked much the same as it had before the pandemic. She’ll usually meet families in front of their homes now instead of inside, but the communities and the people in them are the same.

In the grander scheme, the pandemic seems to have had a significant impact on the program.

Migrant Education Coordinator Patricio Escamilla said over 30% of migrant families that would have normally been identified have been lost because of the pandemic.

“We’ve seen a huge decrease in migrant families being identified, for obvious reasons,” he said. “Because of COVID-19, many states were apprehensive of allowing our migrant families to migrate from state to state.”

Those families stand to lose out on the opportunity for supplemental services, services that are important for keeping migrant children up with their peers.

Other employees in the district’s migrant program reported families leaving for work, falling ill, and having to return home, bungling their season.

Romelia Torres, migrant clerk, walks up to a mobile home as part of the Migrant neighborhood identification and Recruitment Program as she goes door to door in a neighborhood on Monday, Nov. 29, 2021, in north Edinburg. (Joel Martinez | [email protected])

“A lot of our families did not migrate, did not make a move, because of COVID,” Migrant Counselor Leticia Salinas said Monday. “That’s why our numbers have gone down a lot because of that, and that’s why we’re doing this, we’re trying to bring up our numbers and bring up our families and see if we missed anybody.”

As a counselor, Salinas works on campus and traditionally does not go door knocking like Torres.

She does, however, understand the struggles of the people in those communities more than most.

In the late 80s, when Salinas was a teenager, her father lost his job as a maintenance man at a trailer park.

The family had no choice: they hit the road.

Salinas’ family would leave in March and wouldn’t come back home until late September, moving around California following work in the grape industry.

Salinas went to a school in California where migrant children were effectively segregated from their peers. It was hard.

“So I know how it is to leave your house, leave your friends behind,” she said. “To come back and feel totally lost. So I understand them and I understand their situations, and can empathize with them.”

For a migrant counselor, empathizing with students means putting them in labs aimed at catching students up who have missed weeks of coursework. The counselors follow up with their grades, and work with teachers to explain the situation migrant students are in.

“Our job is to make sure that there is support for them,” Salinas said. “That they don’t fall through the cracks.”

Counselors also push college and continuing education, and try to find a way to get their students there. Salinas sees higher education as a way out of an often tough life as a migrant laborer. College, after all, is what worked for her.

“I didn’t want that,” she said. “That’s why I went to college, I didn’t want to continue working like that.”

Often, Salinas will tell her students they’re fortunate. They get a regular academic counselor and a migrant counselor. It’s the kind of support Torres’ door knocking tries to link families with and, Salinas said, it’s the kind of support those families deserve.

“It’s hard for them.”