Whenever I visit the city I meet people who tell me that my life must be great because I live in the country where it's quiet and I have a simple, straightforward job. I respond with a quizzical look. I have a uniquely nice set-up as a farmer, but that's not what these people are referring to. When I say "farmer" I can see this flash of a bucolic life living off the land. Do they have no clue as to what farming is?
I'm working a plot that hasn't been farmed in more than 30 years. That's been plenty of time to allow blackberries to take over. I've been at it for 6 months and they are now coming up in my grains. If I don't get them out, they will block the harvester and I will lose that crop. So I wake up at 5 AM to remove blackberries. I go home to shower at 8 AM to get ready for a 8-hour work day in an office. If I didn't have this job, I wouldn't be able to pay for
Come 5 pm, I come home to eat dinner before going back to the field and working until dark. I wash up, go to sleep, and wake up to repeat that routine.
I don't have time to read, listen to music, write correspondences or do things that bring gladness and inspiration. My world has shrunk. My main points of reference are my past, present, and thoughts, which is in no way live.
I'm trying to make time to keep in touch with friends and family, to challenge my views, to learn, to collaborate and create. But it's a different world out here. I can't take a break to go dancing, listen to music, or attend a lecture. What's hardest, though, is that there's a different culture here.
Most of my friends here are fellow people of color. Each time we talk or get together we each have an account of a racist encounter, without fail. There's that time my friend was stalked by an older white man, and when she confronted him, he said it was ok because she's a docile Asian. There's that time I sold veggies at the farmers' market and some people were escorted away from my stand by their friend telling them that, "Asians don't grow organic." Then there are just the stares I get when walking around. It's no wonder that people moving from cities to the country to farm are mostly white.
What pains me today is that I haven't been able to share my grief with anyone regarding the massacre in Charleston, South Carolina. Out here, people insist that racism doesn't exist and turn away from incidents that are glaring indicators than it does.
When will our lives and efforts be recognized and valued?
New farmers groups and media, like The Farmers Guild, The Greenhorns, and Modern Farmer, tout that America's farming landscape is changing for the better. They support and highlight burgeoning small-scale operations run by mostly college-educated white people who have resources to rent or buy land. "This is the new face of farming," they say. How much impact do they actually have on food production, the economy, and future of farming? Meanwhile, big agricultural production farms are still in full action and produce most of our domestic and exported food. The farmers on those farms are completely ignored. They have been the faces of farming and will continue to be. What about their children who are also forced to work on farms? I'd count them as new faces of farming. And they're all exposed to pesticides, herbicides, and conditions that cause severe, acute and chronic health problems. I've seen their arms covered in lesions from agricultural chemicals. And they still farm. Let's start acknowledging that their lives matter.
I'm working a plot that hasn't been farmed in more than 30 years. That's been plenty of time to allow blackberries to take over. I've been at it for 6 months and they are now coming up in my grains. If I don't get them out, they will block the harvester and I will lose that crop. So I wake up at 5 AM to remove blackberries. I go home to shower at 8 AM to get ready for a 8-hour work day in an office. If I didn't have this job, I wouldn't be able to pay for
- food, which is very expensive in rural areas
- fuel for the long drives into town for supplies
- utilities, like expensive internet because there's only one provider out here
Come 5 pm, I come home to eat dinner before going back to the field and working until dark. I wash up, go to sleep, and wake up to repeat that routine.
I don't have time to read, listen to music, write correspondences or do things that bring gladness and inspiration. My world has shrunk. My main points of reference are my past, present, and thoughts, which is in no way live.
I'm trying to make time to keep in touch with friends and family, to challenge my views, to learn, to collaborate and create. But it's a different world out here. I can't take a break to go dancing, listen to music, or attend a lecture. What's hardest, though, is that there's a different culture here.
Most of my friends here are fellow people of color. Each time we talk or get together we each have an account of a racist encounter, without fail. There's that time my friend was stalked by an older white man, and when she confronted him, he said it was ok because she's a docile Asian. There's that time I sold veggies at the farmers' market and some people were escorted away from my stand by their friend telling them that, "Asians don't grow organic." Then there are just the stares I get when walking around. It's no wonder that people moving from cities to the country to farm are mostly white.
What pains me today is that I haven't been able to share my grief with anyone regarding the massacre in Charleston, South Carolina. Out here, people insist that racism doesn't exist and turn away from incidents that are glaring indicators than it does.
When will our lives and efforts be recognized and valued?
New farmers groups and media, like The Farmers Guild, The Greenhorns, and Modern Farmer, tout that America's farming landscape is changing for the better. They support and highlight burgeoning small-scale operations run by mostly college-educated white people who have resources to rent or buy land. "This is the new face of farming," they say. How much impact do they actually have on food production, the economy, and future of farming? Meanwhile, big agricultural production farms are still in full action and produce most of our domestic and exported food. The farmers on those farms are completely ignored. They have been the faces of farming and will continue to be. What about their children who are also forced to work on farms? I'd count them as new faces of farming. And they're all exposed to pesticides, herbicides, and conditions that cause severe, acute and chronic health problems. I've seen their arms covered in lesions from agricultural chemicals. And they still farm. Let's start acknowledging that their lives matter.
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