Unearthing Exploitation: The Hidden Crisis Facing Immigrant Women in the Cannabis Workforce
Immigrant women are the backbone of the cannabis industry, yet face widespread exploitation fueled by legal gaps, gender bias, and immigration vulnerabilities.
The cannabis industry, poised to surpass $100 billion in value by 2030, is often celebrated as a symbol of economic opportunity and progress. But beneath the surface of its rapid expansion lies a contradiction: the industry’s growth relies heavily on labor practices that mirror the most exploitative chapters of agricultural history. Immigrant women—particularly Latina and Indigenous workers—shoulder much of this burden, navigating overlapping systems of discrimination tied to gender, race, and immigration status. The result is a hidden yet entrenched pattern of cannabis workforce exploitation.
Industry Dynamics and Workforce Composition
Cannabis cultivation shares the same structural dependencies that have long defined U.S. agriculture: a deep reliance on marginalized labor. In states like California and Oregon, an estimated 70% of cultivation workers are Latino, with a large share undocumented. Among them are Indigenous migrants from southern Mexico, many of whom speak native languages such as Mixtec or Zapotec, further isolating them through linguistic and cultural barriers.
This population often participates in seasonal migration patterns. The rise of “trimmigrants”—a transient class of laborers who follow the harvest cycle from one state to the next—has come to define the post-harvest period. Living conditions for these workers are typically precarious: overcrowded trailers, unreliable plumbing, and poor sanitation are common.
Gendered labor divisions are entrenched throughout the cannabis supply chain. While men dominate cultivation, machinery operation, and supervisory roles, women are disproportionately placed in trimming and packaging. These are roles perceived as “care-oriented” and therefore undervalued—despite trimming being a meticulous, hand-intensive process that directly impacts product quality. Within this hierarchy, cannabis workforce exploitation becomes normalized, especially for immigrant women whose options are severely limited by legal status and economic precarity.
Gender Discrimination and Sexual Harassment
Immigrant women in the cannabis workforce consistently earn less than their male counterparts—by as much as 20% to 30%, depending on the region and role. In California’s Emerald Triangle, wage violations are widespread, with many undocumented women earning below the state minimum wage. Meanwhile, their male colleagues are assigned to better-paid roles involving equipment handling or management.
Wage disparity is only one component of a broader crisis. Sexual exploitation is disturbingly common. Informal hiring practices, a lack of regulatory oversight, and the prevalence of isolated rural work environments create ideal conditions for abuse. Some women have reported being offered overtime or better-paying assignments in exchange for sexual favors. In particularly egregious cases, such as one uncovered during a 2022 Mendocino County investigation, supervisors demanded topless labor as a condition for continued employment.
These abuses are rarely reported. For undocumented women, the fear of retaliation or deportation acts as a silencing mechanism. Language barriers, lack of legal knowledge, and dependence on employers for housing and transportation further discourage speaking out. The cannabis workforce exploitation they endure is not just physical or economic—it’s psychological and deeply systemic.
Immigration Status as a Tool of Control
The paradox of cannabis legalization is particularly stark when viewed through the lens of federal immigration law. Although cannabis is legal in many states, it remains classified as a Schedule I substance at the federal level. The Department of Homeland Security has used this designation to justify raids on cannabis farms, classifying undocumented farmworkers as drug traffickers rather than victims of labor abuse.
This legal ambiguity creates a chilling effect. Workers, especially those without documentation, are forced into silence. Reporting wage theft, unsafe conditions, or sexual harassment could expose them to criminal prosecution or deportation. Even for those on a path to legal residency, cannabis-related employment can become a stumbling block. Immigration courts may interpret such work as evidence of poor moral character, potentially delaying or disqualifying applicants from citizenship.
In this context, cannabis workforce exploitation is not just an unfortunate byproduct of a booming industry—it’s baked into its legal contradictions and enforced by systemic policy failures.
Workplace Hazards and Economic Abuse
The physical toll on cannabis workers—especially women—is considerable. Exposure to pesticides such as myclobutanil, a chemical linked to respiratory illness, is routine. Protective gear is often unavailable or not provided. Substandard living conditions exacerbate these hazards. Mold, contaminated water, and extreme temperatures are common in the trailers and makeshift shelters where workers sleep between long shifts.
Economic abuse is equally widespread. Wage theft occurs frequently under piece-rate pay systems, in which workers are paid based on output rather than hours worked. Employers undercount hours, withhold wages, or—in some cases—offer payment in cannabis product instead of cash. In southern Oregon, several women reported being misled into barter-based arrangements that left them indebted and unable to leave.
These labor violations are not unique to cannabis. They echo exploitation found throughout the agricultural sector. However, because cannabis remains federally illegal, it exists outside many of the regulatory frameworks that offer even limited protection to traditional farmworkers. This legal vacuum is fertile ground for cannabis workforce exploitation.
Labor Advocacy and Policy Gaps
Despite these challenges, workers and advocates have begun organizing. Women-led groups such as the Cannabis Workers Coalition offer harm reduction training, bilingual rights education, and legal support. The United Food and Commercial Workers union (UFCW) has negotiated labor peace agreements in parts of the industry, ensuring union neutrality and offering a foothold for collective bargaining.
Legislatively, some progress has been made. California’s 2023 Cannabis Worker Protection Bill mandates safety training and reporting mechanisms. However, it excludes farms with fewer than 20 employees—effectively omitting most small-scale operations where immigrant women are disproportionately employed.
Nationally, cannabis workers remain excluded from many labor protections under the National Labor Relations Act. Without federal recognition of state-legal cannabis employment, most workers have no avenue to challenge abuses. This policy gap reinforces the industry’s dependence on invisible, unprotected labor.
Toward an Equitable Future
Confronting cannabis workforce exploitation requires bold, inclusive reforms:
Social Equity Programs should explicitly protect undocumented workers, including provisions that prohibit employer retaliation or deportation threats and provide access to legal assistance.
Gender Quotas and diversity mandates should be introduced for licensing, incentivizing the development of women-owned farms and requiring inclusion in leadership positions.
Enhanced Safety Oversight by OSHA and state equivalents must be extended to cannabis farming. Multilingual training programs and anonymous reporting systems can also empower workers to raise concerns safely.
Collaborative Frameworks must include policymakers, labor unions, immigrant rights groups, and ethical cannabis brands working together to shape a more transparent, equitable industry. Independent platforms like the Cannabis Equity Accountability Commission can help monitor progress, amplify worker voices, and hold businesses accountable.
The continued success of the cannabis industry cannot come at the expense of the laborers who sustain it. Immigrant women—too often invisible, undervalued, and exploited—deserve more than just legal protections. They deserve systemic change. Addressing cannabis workforce exploitation is not merely a moral imperative; it’s essential to the long-term sustainability and legitimacy of the industry.
As cannabis legalization spreads, the question remains: will this new frontier replicate the injustices of the past, or rise to become a model for ethical labor and inclusive economic growth?
