Pot growers are rapists -- they dump toxins in the soil, steal increasingly scare water, and clear-cut old growth to extract as much ganja as possible and leave land asunder. Pot growers are capitalists masquerading as hippies. They're hypocrites who tout libertarian ideals but complain about not receiving enough food stamps and about poorly paved highways.
These popular stereotypes fuel general disdain for cannabis growers and local antagonisms between traditional and marijuana farmers. In Mendocino County, nationally known as a stockpot of pot, people uninvolved in the cannabis industry actively try to shake off the association and will assert that the county's largest employer is the government. Sure, the government is the largest recorded employer. We know, however, that cash transactions supercede credit-based financial exchange here. Where does that cash come from? From across the entire country into this 4,000 sq. mile coastal corner because of a major export commodity: cannabis. Cannabis is the backbone of Mendocino's economy. Many residents engage in the cannabis sector, which gainfully employs an unfathomably high number of both residents and transients in the fall harvest months. Are they all selfish opportunists?
For a long time I dismissively lumped cannabis growers into the same category as vineyard owners: environmentally-destructive, monocropping capitalists who take up prime agricultural lands for extravagant products. Not having visited many pot operations, I went by hear-say and news articles. Then one day I caught myself wondering why I readily adopted these stereotypes. What bad science! While living in the Bay, friends would come back with stories of sweet hill-side homesteads where they trimmed to pay for another year of geometrically increasing college tuition. While working at Mendocino farmers' markets, some customers hardly diminished a stack of bills from which they pulled $125 to buy my produce. They were obviously growers. Yet there they were as the reliable customers supporting me, supporting small farms. All these anecdotes led me to question and investigate my assumptions about cannabis growers, their methods and motivations, and their role in California life.
The greatest shift in my perspective happened last week when I visited HappyDay Farms, a vegetable and marijuana farm. Never has a 20-acre property transformed my understanding of farming so drastically, and for the better. Actually, let me back-track to explain how I got there.
I read in the Willits News about a new Water Board regulation that's geared towards cannabis cultivation but affects all farmers. The policy is in a 30-day comment period, wherein presentations were made in Trinity and Humboldt but nothing was planned for Mendocino. I couldn't stomach the idea that a new regulation would silently roll out without sufficiently engaging the public, especially when this historically significant policy is the state's first attempt to regulate cannabis farming. Shouldn't Mendocino, as part of the Emerald Triangle, be notified and included in this comment period? Yes. But, according the article, no events were planned in Mendocino. I took up the challenge and soon faced the challenge of coordinating with a community of people I had no connection to.
I called up Adrian Baumann, who wrote the Willits News article and covers weed stories in Mendo, to ask for a contact in the cannabis community. He recommended Casey O'Neill, a well-respected native Mendocino farmer and active member of the Emerald Growers' Association. I reached out to Casey to see if he'd work with me to put on a forum, to which he immediately responded with warmth and enthusiasm. Coincidentally, my friends were planning to meet with him in a few days and I was already supposed to go along before heading to the coast. I followed the thread of serendipitous connections and arrived at HappyDay Farms on a sunny spring afternoon.
We drove up winding roads into an arid environment that seemed inhospitable to farming. The manzanitas manifested their red arms as red flags for farming. "Seriously, there's a veggie farm up here?" Indeed, there was. We pulled into HappyDay Farm where emerged Casey with a friendly smile and earnest handshake. From the mountain top that overlooked a wondrous valley of conifers and golden grass, we descended down terraces of lush greens neatly nourished by drip lines and shaded by remay tunnels. There was so much food! On the side of a mountain! I saw this land form in Southeast Asia, where at least rains provide plenty of water into rich loam. But this was hard rock with little rainfall. My world was rocked, my mind was blown. I've been interacting with veggie farmers clamoring for valley bottom soil this whole time, and here was this slope of abundant edible growth. I hardly noticed the pot plants among the massive canopy of lettuce and kale. This is when I realized that the false dichotomy between traditional vegetable farmers and cannabis farmers has been detrimental to everyone and the environment. We could be learning from each other to improve our farming practices to produce more while taking less.
Casey brought us back to his porch-side patio for refreshments. He shared stories about his farm, ambitions, and dreams to contribute to food security and community strengthening. They were the same as mine, the same as my friends'. This is when I realized that the false dichotomy deterred friendships to form.
I feel honored to have met Casey and Amber, to have visited their farm, to eat their delicious salad mix sitting in the bowl next to me. They and their friends are not the enemy. They are also small scale farmers striving to support our community and to be good stewards of the land. Some have even taken it upon themselves to remediate environmental damage perpetrated by logging companies, which they could only afford by growing some marijuana. Far from raping the land, they are repairing ruins left by entities whom the government granted land.
With upcoming legalization, I want to be allied with Casey, Amber, and other cannabis growers to protect their endeavors and small farms in Mendocino. We're seeing new regulations that will levy fees and fines greater than before. We've seen, from the organic farming side, how regulations can destroy farms and people's abilities to afford their land. In the meantime, corporations and large investors could start sweeping in to buy land set up for cannabis cultivation and/or seeds and plants people propagated. I want to be neighbors with friends, not Big Ag. I want seeds saved by farmers, not stocked up by chemical and pharmaceutical companies. Don't you?
I'm not so naive to think that all cannabis farms are like HappyDay, just as not every organic veggie farm is like Full Belly. Trespass grows and environmentally damaging cultivation certainly exist. But let's not throw the baby out with the bathwater. Larger, stronger forces affect the environment and economy in broader strokes than small scale farms. Let's keep in mind that our cannabis-cultivating neighbors aren't the enemy. If you don't believe me, next time say hi to your neighbor.
*No, friends, I didn't start smoking. I'll let you know when my scilia regrow. 'Bong' was a good replacement for 'bomb', don't you think?
These popular stereotypes fuel general disdain for cannabis growers and local antagonisms between traditional and marijuana farmers. In Mendocino County, nationally known as a stockpot of pot, people uninvolved in the cannabis industry actively try to shake off the association and will assert that the county's largest employer is the government. Sure, the government is the largest recorded employer. We know, however, that cash transactions supercede credit-based financial exchange here. Where does that cash come from? From across the entire country into this 4,000 sq. mile coastal corner because of a major export commodity: cannabis. Cannabis is the backbone of Mendocino's economy. Many residents engage in the cannabis sector, which gainfully employs an unfathomably high number of both residents and transients in the fall harvest months. Are they all selfish opportunists?
For a long time I dismissively lumped cannabis growers into the same category as vineyard owners: environmentally-destructive, monocropping capitalists who take up prime agricultural lands for extravagant products. Not having visited many pot operations, I went by hear-say and news articles. Then one day I caught myself wondering why I readily adopted these stereotypes. What bad science! While living in the Bay, friends would come back with stories of sweet hill-side homesteads where they trimmed to pay for another year of geometrically increasing college tuition. While working at Mendocino farmers' markets, some customers hardly diminished a stack of bills from which they pulled $125 to buy my produce. They were obviously growers. Yet there they were as the reliable customers supporting me, supporting small farms. All these anecdotes led me to question and investigate my assumptions about cannabis growers, their methods and motivations, and their role in California life.
The greatest shift in my perspective happened last week when I visited HappyDay Farms, a vegetable and marijuana farm. Never has a 20-acre property transformed my understanding of farming so drastically, and for the better. Actually, let me back-track to explain how I got there.
I read in the Willits News about a new Water Board regulation that's geared towards cannabis cultivation but affects all farmers. The policy is in a 30-day comment period, wherein presentations were made in Trinity and Humboldt but nothing was planned for Mendocino. I couldn't stomach the idea that a new regulation would silently roll out without sufficiently engaging the public, especially when this historically significant policy is the state's first attempt to regulate cannabis farming. Shouldn't Mendocino, as part of the Emerald Triangle, be notified and included in this comment period? Yes. But, according the article, no events were planned in Mendocino. I took up the challenge and soon faced the challenge of coordinating with a community of people I had no connection to.
I called up Adrian Baumann, who wrote the Willits News article and covers weed stories in Mendo, to ask for a contact in the cannabis community. He recommended Casey O'Neill, a well-respected native Mendocino farmer and active member of the Emerald Growers' Association. I reached out to Casey to see if he'd work with me to put on a forum, to which he immediately responded with warmth and enthusiasm. Coincidentally, my friends were planning to meet with him in a few days and I was already supposed to go along before heading to the coast. I followed the thread of serendipitous connections and arrived at HappyDay Farms on a sunny spring afternoon.
We drove up winding roads into an arid environment that seemed inhospitable to farming. The manzanitas manifested their red arms as red flags for farming. "Seriously, there's a veggie farm up here?" Indeed, there was. We pulled into HappyDay Farm where emerged Casey with a friendly smile and earnest handshake. From the mountain top that overlooked a wondrous valley of conifers and golden grass, we descended down terraces of lush greens neatly nourished by drip lines and shaded by remay tunnels. There was so much food! On the side of a mountain! I saw this land form in Southeast Asia, where at least rains provide plenty of water into rich loam. But this was hard rock with little rainfall. My world was rocked, my mind was blown. I've been interacting with veggie farmers clamoring for valley bottom soil this whole time, and here was this slope of abundant edible growth. I hardly noticed the pot plants among the massive canopy of lettuce and kale. This is when I realized that the false dichotomy between traditional vegetable farmers and cannabis farmers has been detrimental to everyone and the environment. We could be learning from each other to improve our farming practices to produce more while taking less.
Casey brought us back to his porch-side patio for refreshments. He shared stories about his farm, ambitions, and dreams to contribute to food security and community strengthening. They were the same as mine, the same as my friends'. This is when I realized that the false dichotomy deterred friendships to form.
I feel honored to have met Casey and Amber, to have visited their farm, to eat their delicious salad mix sitting in the bowl next to me. They and their friends are not the enemy. They are also small scale farmers striving to support our community and to be good stewards of the land. Some have even taken it upon themselves to remediate environmental damage perpetrated by logging companies, which they could only afford by growing some marijuana. Far from raping the land, they are repairing ruins left by entities whom the government granted land.
With upcoming legalization, I want to be allied with Casey, Amber, and other cannabis growers to protect their endeavors and small farms in Mendocino. We're seeing new regulations that will levy fees and fines greater than before. We've seen, from the organic farming side, how regulations can destroy farms and people's abilities to afford their land. In the meantime, corporations and large investors could start sweeping in to buy land set up for cannabis cultivation and/or seeds and plants people propagated. I want to be neighbors with friends, not Big Ag. I want seeds saved by farmers, not stocked up by chemical and pharmaceutical companies. Don't you?
I'm not so naive to think that all cannabis farms are like HappyDay, just as not every organic veggie farm is like Full Belly. Trespass grows and environmentally damaging cultivation certainly exist. But let's not throw the baby out with the bathwater. Larger, stronger forces affect the environment and economy in broader strokes than small scale farms. Let's keep in mind that our cannabis-cultivating neighbors aren't the enemy. If you don't believe me, next time say hi to your neighbor.
*No, friends, I didn't start smoking. I'll let you know when my scilia regrow. 'Bong' was a good replacement for 'bomb', don't you think?
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