Reflections on My Big Year in Ag

For about 2 weeks leading up to AgPro graduation, I nurtured some sourdough starter given to me by my farm coach, Jay Bost.  He had made this kalo sourdough bread for a kalo event at the research station in April, and I thought it was wonderful and asked for a recipe.  He gave me not just the recipe but some starter as well, and I've been intrigued by this process of sourdough bread making ever since.  I realize it's the perfect metaphor for new farmer training -- an experienced farmer passing on some knowledge and materials to someone else to carry forward, add to, then pass on to others.

I can hardly believe my time in the GoFarm program has come to an end.  About a year ago, on the last day of the legislative session, farming was just this intriguing vision in my head, and I attended AgCurious to find out more about this program.  I applied, got in, and started on this journey that has led to many joys, disappointments, discoveries, and challenges.  I've learned so much about what it takes to be a commercial farmer, how little most people know about growing food or living the life of a farmer, and how different farmers are from others just by virtue of choosing farming over other professions.  Pardon what may seem like rambling -- I've been kneading these ideas in my head for the past several months, and I still haven't figured how to eloquently state these thoughts or form a coherent series of thoughts or conclusion. Perhaps I can’t conclude anything yet because haven’t finished digesting everything and settling on a course of action.

I must say I wish I had more support from family and friends in terms of wanting to farm alongside me, but in their defense, I don't think this is how most people would choose to spend their free time.   I'm grateful for the time and energy I have received.  However, I secretly hoped someone would catch the farming bug or see the potential in it and the good that we can do by it.  Most people are happy to support local agriculture as consumers if it's convenient or practical for them, but even those who supported me seemed to think it some sort of phase I was going through.  I've battled with these same thoughts many times, but still I kept coming back and wanting to continue farming or, at the very least, advocating for local, diversified, organic agriculture.  Maybe after a break, I'll know whether it truly is something I want to keep doing or whether I should find something else meaningful to do.  We've been planning to start a family soon, and I've been told a kid can change everything.  Perhaps my passion for farming will also change or take a backseat to parenting, although I'd love for my kid to be raised on a farm or at least be surrounded by plants and all the other biology present in an organic farm so that I can pass on the importance of land stewardship to the next generation.

I've been wanting to start a business for a while now, but I always felt like I was lacking a good product or service to offer.  With farming, I realized I had found an industry I support and a product I enjoy making that incorporates many of the other hobbies and skills I've developed over the years.  I've found organic agriculture to lie at the intersection of several of my interests and previous pursuits in biology and other sciences, athletics, and creative arts.  And I've found organic agriculture at a time in my life where I'm seeking something to throw myself into that makes a positive impact on others and on this Earth.  Whether I am to take this detour and follow it, I don't know.  This is the crossroad I find myself at presently.

Just as AgPro was winding down, I discovered a poet/writer/environmentalist/ farmer/educator/pacifist named Wendell Berry.  He writes beautifully, poetically, and somewhat optimistically about the rural, agrarian lifestyle and pontificates, advocates for, and mourns the loss of rural life and the values that accompanied it and the lifestyle and values with which they have been replaced.  This got me thinking about my own life and what I have been struggling with as I considered the feasibility of becoming a commercial farmer.  On one shoulder sits a crowd of people telling me I'm crazy for wanting to give up a job with good, steady income that I've worked hard for and a chance to be a responsible adult who can support my family, all for a passing interest in a profession that requires hard manual labor, huge financial risks, and questionable access to resources and markets.  On the other shoulder is Wendell Berry, advising me to follow my passion, be a caretaker of the land, and help restore the values of family, thrift, environmental stewardship, and community.  I envision a piece of land separated by a deep, wide trench.  I am standing on one side, wondering whether I can and should make a huge leap of faith and make it across to the other side.  This deep division seems to have played out nationally as well, in our last presidential election.  The urban-rural divide, which brings with it so many other implied divisions in education, income, race, and politics, seems to characterize these two different lifestyles I am trying to negotiate in my head and in my life.

I chose the name Wildish Farm because I realized that the type of farming I'm trying to do is trying to be a little wild and a little tame and connecting worlds and lifestyles of outdoors and indoors, rural and urban, passion and profit.  I’m neither firmly in the farming camp, nor firmly in the urban camp. I enjoy parts of both worlds, and I’d like to have one foot in each. What I really need is a bridge to connect these two worlds and to find my place between them. I'm taking a hiatus from farming for now because unless I start growing and selling out of my lanai, I'm a landless farmer.  Hopefully I'll come out of this hiatus with a way forward for Wildish Farm.  Until then, I'll try to keep my hands busy somehow.