Author: alaskaadmin

In Colorado, a national debate about the role of Latinos in American society has deep roots in the state’s history, current identity — and future.

I’m a professor of ethnic studies at Colorado State University. I recently published a book titled “Latino Colorado: The Struggle for Equality in the Centennial State.” In it, I explore how Latinos in Colorado have bridged Old West and New West industries to help our state grow. As a longtime resident of the state, I have witnessed many of these socioeconomic phenomena firsthand and through my research.

Latinos have always been a part of the Colorado story. Let’s look at some ways Latinos help drive the state’s economy and contribute to its unique culture and lifestyle.

Latino labor in Colorado

Latinos were the first Coloradans.

San Luis was founded in 1851 by Hispanic settlers from northern New Mexico. It is the oldest continuously inhabited town in the state. In the late 19th century, Hispanic Coloradans and immigrants from Mexico fanned across the territory and later the state to work in mining, the railroad industry and the emerging agricultural sector.

In the fist decades of the 20th century, Colorado’s sugar beet industry relied heavily on Latino workers. Those workers then established Hispanic neighborhoods in cities along the Front Range and the Eastern Plains.

Colorado’s geographic diversity has led to the development of numerous economic sectors from so-called Old West industries like agriculture, cattle ranching and mining to New West industries like tourism, real estate and tech startups.

The running thread of Colorado’s diverse economic picture is its reliance on Latino labor, whether from U.S.-born or immigrant workers. The state has relied on this labor practically since the territory was acquired from Mexico in 1848. The region known as the Western Slope is a good example of this trend.

In the Western Slope, Latino workers were the muscle behind the building of railroad lines and the growth of the sugar beet industry in the early 20th century. Latino immigrants still work in the oil and gas industry and the fruit orchards that dot the region. But, more recently, their descendants have moved into the middle class. They’ve opened small businesses and some have even become white collar professionals.

As tourism began to flourish in the Western Slope in the 1990s, Latinos quickly became the indispensable labor force that kept the ski resorts, hotels and restaurants running. And as Baby Boomers began to retire and move to the region, Latino labor supported the construction boom fueled by this demographic shift. There is practically no sector of the Western Slope’s — and the state’s — economy that does not rely on Latino labor.

Latino demographic shifts

Latinos have also driven the Western Slope’s demographic growth. The expansion of the real estate and tourism sectors around the turn of the 21st century attracted tens of thousands of Latinos to the region. They came from Colorado’s Front Range, other U.S. states and Mexico and Central America.

Their presence has revitalized towns historically afflicted by the woes of the boom-and-bust cycles of the oil and gas industry. For example, along the west I-70 corridor, towns such as Eagle, Edwards and Gypsum in Eagle County, and towns like Glenwood Springs, Parachute, Rifle and Silt in Garfield County, have seen their Latino populations soar with the arrival of families attracted to job opportunities in resort destinations like Vail and Aspen. By 2020, Latinos made up more than a third of these counties’ total populations compared to the 1990s when Latinos made up less than 10% of the population in the region.

Further west, Montrose’s Latino population has grown in tandem with the popular resort town Telluride’s economic expansion. Nowadays, Latinos represent more than 20% of the Montrose County population compared to 12% three decades ago. Mesa County has the largest number of Latinos on the Western Slope, about 25,000, which make up 15% of the population. Latinos are mostly clustered in and around Grand Junction, the largest metro hub between Denver and Salt Lake City.

Like most working-class Coloradans, these Latino families typically cannot afford to live in the ritzy communities where they work. Many make long commutes over treacherous mountain roads to get to their workplace. Some juggle multiple jobs and rely on carpooling because they don’t own cars and don’t make enough money to afford their long, potentially dangerous commutes.

While the first-generation immigrants who came to Colorado’s Western Slope in the 1990s-2000s have a limited educational background and speak little English, their second-generation children are trying to realize the American Dream by moving into the middle class. This second generation benefits from a public education, command of the English language and greater knowledge of American society than their parents.

The U.S.-born descendants of Latino immigrants represent a tip-of-the-iceberg phenomenon. They currently make a large component of the school-age population in these counties. In another decade or two, they will join the labor force, pay taxes, vote and likely transform the demographics, culture and political status quo of these mountain communities.

Challenges facing Latino Coloradans

Latino Coloradans’ story is fraught with challenges, too.

First-generation Latino laborers often endure long work hours for low pay, a high cost of living, occupational hazards and the stigma of racial discrimination. Moreover, shifting political winds represent a significant challenge for Latinos concerned about changes in U.S. immigration policies.

President Donald Trump’s recent immigration dragnet has reached the Western Slope, where Latino individuals have been routinely arrested and Latino families fear deportation. Many Latino families in Colorado are mixed-status families, in which some family members may lack U.S. citizenship or work visas and are subject to deportation. They feel targeted for the color of their skin, their accent or the jobs they do. The immigration operations are having an impact on the economy and social fabric of the communities where Latinos live and work.

Still, Latinos have grown deep roots in Western Slope communities. Grand Junction has a thriving Latino middle class and is home to the Western Colorado Latino Chamber of Commerce. Latinos, such as State Rep. Elizabeth Velasco, are running for office in the region and getting elected. Velasco represents House District 57, which covers Glenwood Springs and Aspen.

Latinos have always been an intrinsic feature of the Western Slope’s socioeconomic landscape, as ubiquitous as the area’s mountains, mesas and canyons. In cities like Grand Junction and Durango, and ski towns like Aspen, Telluride and Vail, they enrich the region’s economy, society and culture.

Read more of our stories about Colorado.

Ernesto Sagás does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

​Politics + Society – The Conversation

America’s bees and beekeepers are losing a valuable ally just when they need its help most.

The U.S. Department of Agriculture plans to soon close the Beltsville Agricultural Research Center, a 6,500-acre agricultural research station in Maryland that is home to the nation’s premier bee research and disease diagnosis hub, the Beltsville Bee Research Lab.

The closure comes at a critical moment for bees. In winter 2025, many beekeepers lost over half their operations as pesticide-resistant varroa mites spread, bringing deadly viruses. The losses have led to low honey production, and soaring fuel costs have made shipping bees cross-country for agricultural pollination increasingly expensive, further stressing the industry.

During my 14 years researching bees and beekeepers, and in writing my new book, “Bitter Honey: Big Ag’s Threat to Bees and the Fight to Save Them,” I’ve seen beekeepers frequently turn to the USDA bee labs for support during crises like this. Because honey bees contribute roughly US$15 billion to U.S. crop production – native and managed bees pollinate more than 130 crops – these labs help stabilize the nation’s food system.

Today, that scientific support system is at risk, just as beekeepers face their greatest challenges and native bee populations continue to decline.

Why the Beltsville Bee Lab matters

USDA’s bee researchers have served beekeepers for over 130 years, including nearly 90 years at the Beltsville station. One of the Beltsville Bee Lab’s standout services is its bee disease diagnostic service, where beekeepers can send samples for analysis free of charge.

Since the early 2000s, Beltsville researchers have helped beekeepers respond to varroa mites – a primary driver of high colony losses each year. Now, the lab is helping them prepare for a deadlier mite that is infesting honey bees in Asia, Tropilaelaps mercedesae, or “tropi” mites – by developing detection and response protocols that beekeepers can use to protect their colonies.

While the Beltsville Bee Lab supports beekeepers nationwide, it’s located in a prime farming and beekeeping region. Its closure would leave a critical research gap in the Northeast, where beekeepers help pollinate cranberries, squash, blueberries and other crops.

Its location has also allowed researchers to conduct extensive studies on winter colony losses, research that would be difficult to replicate at the remaining USDA bee labs, which are primarily located in more temperate climates.

Hidden costs of bee lab closures

The USDA states that it will decommission the entire Beltsville Agricultural Research Center because building maintenance and renovations would cost an estimated $500 million. But closing the lab could cost beekeepers, farmers and consumers far more.

For example, in winter 2025, beekeepers experienced their highest losses in U.S. history. Many opened their colonies in January that year and found that more than 60% of their colonies had died – nearly 1.7 million colonies nationwide. Beekeepers contacted Beltsville, and researchers quickly flew out to test affected colonies for pesticide residues, diseases and varroa mites, data that could help guide beekeepers’ treatment response.

A few weeks later, as the lab’s scientists were working on the crisis, the Trump administration fired probationary researchers and staff at the bee labs, along with thousands of other employees across the USDA. The Beltsville team was hobbled, and the remaining staff restricted from communicating with beekeepers.

Because of the communication lockdown, it took nearly six months for researchers to deliver their findings. By then, the season was over and beekeepers had been forced to navigate the crisis on their own.

The loss of bee colonies ultimately cost beekeepers an estimated $600 million in lost honey production, pollination income and colony replacement costs – far more than the one-time projected costs to modernize the entire Beltsville Agricultural Research Center.

These losses can hit consumer pocketbooks too.

When beekeepers lose nearly half their operations, they often need to charge farmers more for pollination services to stay afloat. Those added costs can ripple through the food system and affect what everyone pays for the fruits, vegetables and nuts that depend on pollinators.

More cuts planned to US pollinator research

The Beltsville Bee Lab closure is not an isolated case. The administration has proposed eliminating the U.S. Geological Survey’s Ecosystems Mission Area, a move that could defund the USGS Bee Lab, an essential resource for research on native bees.

It also plans to decommission 16 USGS research centers nationwide, including the Northern Prairie Wildlife Research Center in North Dakota, the highest honey-producing state in the nation. For decades, beekeepers have brought colonies to forage on grasslands in the region. Researchers have been tracking how the shift from grasslands to crops has affected honey bee health and beekeeper revenue.

The U.S. Forest Service also faces widespread cuts, including the planned closure of 57 of its 77 research stations throughout the United States. Since the Forest Service manages over 193 million acres of federal lands that support native plants and pollinators, those closures could affect crucial pollinator habitat as well.

These closures risk a severe brain drain.

When the first Trump administration moved the USDA Economic Research Service from Washington to Kansas City, Missouri, in 2019, the agency lost over 75% of its experienced research staff. A recent survey suggests that history may repeat itself. If the reorganization goes through, farmers and beekeepers will lose experts with decades of institutional and technical knowledge.

The Beltsville Bee Lab is a key part of the often-unappreciated federal research infrastructure that supports the health of pollinators and the nation’s food supply.

If the USDA and the USGS move forward with their plans to close bee labs and research sites, the result could be slower responses to bee threats, weaker tracking of native bee populations and diminished pollinator habitat for bees – all of which raise costs and risks for beekeepers, farmers and everyone who depends on the food system.

Jennie L. Durant does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

​Politics + Society – The Conversation