We are so small. Yesterday, I ventured up to the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont, to check out the Hudson River School painters’ works at the Atheneum Museum in St. Johnsbury. After walking into the beautiful old brick library and weaving around gorgeous wooden shelves and spiral staircases, I was faced with an entire wall canvassed with the sublime landscape of The Domes of Yosemite by Albert Bierdstadt. Looking at the painted canvas, my eyes moved from rock to water, peak to valley, and tree to open sky. It made me feel distanced and small. The intricate and intimate details of rock fractures and edges; rugged tree tops struck by lighting and those still lush and leafy; unruly waters flowing down falls; and wide open terrain weaving through massive outcrops of earth – all so clearly detailed by the stroke of a brush, it all put shame to my relationship to nature. But, this relief moved me, moved me to want to see and adventure into what’s left of our wilderness. The sublime, it calls us, so adventure I did.
The Atheneum – St. Johnsbury, VermontThe Domes of Yosemite by Albert Bierstadt, off in the distance.
I ended the day on a gorgeous semi-frozen lake, Lake Willoughby, which is about 5 miles wide and 300 feet deep. After gawking at insane geology and basking in 65 degree weather alongside sweet friends, I thought of the Domes, of the lake, of the natural world, and us. I thought of just how small we are, how much we do not know.
The grand expanse of Lake Willoughby
In a society where we spend 90% of our time indoors, in front of screens and running laps in the mental mazes we’ve both created and succumbed to, it’s not surprise we think ourselves omnipotent. If you were taken somewhere blindfolded, and once the blindfold was removed, could you tell which direction was north/south based on the position of the sun? Could you determine what the soils are like? What about closer to home — Can you name 3 plans within walking distance and two useful outputs for them?
If these questions seem hard, contrast them with navigating iPhone’s latest iOS, or using an ATM machine. What do we conceive of as hard? Easy? Common? These mind mazes of our daily lives are common, but they are not natural. We have become unnatural beings in an increasingly unnatural world. But there is still a lot of goodness and much hope for preserving what’s left – through each adventure, each awakening, each reminder, because truly, life is the greatest teacher. Each plant’s name learned, each organism’s function understood in the grander ecological system, and each layer of understanding developed of our relationship with the environment, is progress forward. Hope for reconciliation and preservation is not lost – it cannot be, but we must do our best and help others to access the information and experiences that our mind mazes have excluded from so many. We must, too, remind ourselves of just how small we are, because truly, Mother Nature is the finally arbiter.
I found peace yesterday, and in trying everyday, to remind myself that we are so small in this glorious gift of creation. Humility, a reminder we all need.
Life’s trials over the mountains eventually wash out to sea, to the point that we can no longer decipher each individual one, but are left with an acceptance of all that is, all that has been, and look forward to all that might be. We acknowledge and appreciate this from a state of rest, of being and seeing, accepting and reflecting – and we give thanks.
The past few weeks have served as a Sabbath, “man’s eternal rest in God.” It has been a period of rest, reflection, and receiving the nourishment of all that I experienced last semester. Four months of law classes, community projects, intensive studying, congregational engagement, and all the new relationships and experiences I’ve gained since moving to Vermont, have finally had some time to settle – to process, integrate, and be appreciated. Though I intentionally make time throughout the days for rest and doing things I enjoy (going on adventures, time with friends, contemplative and self-love practices, and the like), I do them with the knowledge that once they’re over it’s back to the grind. This is sometimes a complacently accepted truth, other times it’s a truth that keeps me from being present. It keeps me watching the clock, wondering what else I need to do and what else I should be doing, i.e. keeping me in a seemingly constant state of forward looking.
Forward movement is of course beneficial, but there is much to be learned, enjoyed and benefited from in resting in the present. Looking to the current moment for all that it is, not for what it could, should, or will be – but for what it is now. I’ve been doing that these three weeks of winter break – traveling to visit family, cooking with loved ones, relishing in new and old traditions, and celebrating in the joy and love that Christ brought into the world.
Being present to these experiences was a needed reminder that there is much to be celebrated in simply sitting and being, with whoever you’re with wherever you are – in that moment. Besides the festivities, once things calmed down and we settled back home I had much time by myself, time to just be – to breathe, to be silent, to rest, to listen. The Sabbath is a true blessing and a necessity. We are not made to always be in forward movement, which is something I’ve noticed about the environmental field. Climate change, food insecurity, resource pollution, and biodiversity loss has inspired many to action, to intensive fast moving action. It is needed, of course, but we are part of the system too. We have our needs, physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. We also have so much to learn from ourselves, from the good work we are planting and harvesting that we do not always recognize when we’re always onto the next season. This is what I believe the concept of the Sabbath can bring to believers and seculars alike – time to deeply rest, reflect, and engage in the work of nourishment.
“We tend to demean contemplative rest as something unproductive and unnecessary, but this is to do away with the very thing which is most important about work: its meaning. We are called to include in our work a dimension of receptivity and gratuity, which is quite different from mere inactivity. Rather, it is another way of working, which forms part of our very essence. It protects human action from becoming empty activism; it also prevents that unfettered greed and sense of isolation which make us seek personal gain to the detriment of all else.” – Pope Francis, On Care for Our Common Home
I’ve said this before, but I reiterate it to myself as I sit here and feel how much more full I feel after this Sabbath period – “No more good can be done, if the doer can no longer do good for self.” Resting is, to some – including me, surprisingly hard work. Meaningful rest can easily be misidentified as inaction, even laziness. But this is not so. There is so much work to be done within ourselves that resting enables, so much goodness for self. For a month, a week, a day or even an hour, let us all try to truly rest in the meaning of our work, in the meaning and beauty of our lives, so that we can emerge fulfilled by our passions and progress, and go forth in nourished pursuit of our life’s calling.
Tomorrow I emerge from my period of rest ready to dive into my next adventure – Wake Forest Divinity School’s Re:Generate Fellowship on ecological vocation and religious leadership. I’m honored to be in this year’s inspiring class of fellows, led by one of my spiritual and sustainable agriculture inspirations, Fred Bahson. It will be a period of deep connection, reflection, and exploration of the work we are doing in our individual communities around sustainable food systems and climate change, within the vital context of belief and spirituality. In building thriving and forward moving communities of practice, we aim to grow networks of successful change – communities built around learning in collaboration, loving in tandem, and growing in support of each other. To do so, we must first start with finding connection and meaning within ourselves, a process to which rest and reflection is sure to nourish.
peace,
Eva
From Wake Forest Divinity School:
Building a network of young faith leaders working on ecological issues
In January 2016, the School of Divinity will convene twenty young faith leaders from across the U.S. and Canada for its second annual Re:Generate Fellowship on Ecological Vocation and Religious Leadership.With generous support from the Byron Fellowship Educational Foundation and Kalliopeia Foundation, the fellowship provides a holistic leadership development program for young North American faith leaders who are exploring vocational issues focused in the areas of food justice, sustainable agriculture, climate change, and ecological resilience. The cohort will gather at St. Francis Springs Retreat Center in Stoneville, NC.
“Fifteen years ago I was a young seminary grad entering the world of sustainable agriculture and earth care and didn’t have many peers to lean on,” said Fred Bahnson, director of Food, Faith, and Religious Leadership Initiative at the school and creator of the Re:Generate Fellowship. “My desire to start this fellowship came out of a deep need to connect faith leaders working on ecological issues and start building a national network.”
The twenty Re:Generate fellows in the 2016 cohort represent 13 different states across the U.S. as well as Ontario, Canada. Meet this year’s Re:Generate Fellows.
Over the past three years, the School of Divinity has emerged as a national leader in addressing ecological well-being, climate change, and food justice, with a specific niche in training and equipping faith leaders. Through the Food, Faith, and Religious Leadership Initiative, the school trains future leaders through a 15-credit certificate program in Food and Faith nested within the Master of Divinity degree, and offers a robust continuing-education program. The initiative’s workshops, conferences, and retreats have attracted hundreds of participants from 17 states and five countries, from 10 colleges including Exeter University in England, and from more than a dozen Christian denominations, as well as from other faiths. Every June the school convenes a five-day summer immersion course in Food, Faith, and Ecology in the North Carolina mountains.
Read more about how you can partner with the Food, Faith, and Religious Leadership Initiative, join our mailing list to receive updates, and attend an upcoming continuing education event.
Last weekend I visited my aunt and uncle in Calvert County, Maryland. They have a beautiful country-side home on a quiet inlet off the Chesapeake Bay. I’ve spent a lot of time there over the past 11 years, ever since they bought the place when I was 12-years-old. Many a dockside, feet-in-water, wind-blown hair, oyster-shucking and crab-eating memory has been made out there. With my move to Vermont in a few short weeks and their upcoming plans to put the house on the market, I decided it was time for a visit.
While making the drive from Durham, I thought about my visits over the years. There are two things I can always count on, 1) an abundance of love and 2) incredibly intentional and wholesome meals. Auntie Ann has always loved seeking out interesting flavorful recipes, cool fresh ingredients, and even cooler people who produce and/or sell said ingredients. She and Uncle Don garner much joy from preparing artfully crafted meals infused with suggestions from friends, memories from travels abroad, comforts of times passed, and whatever delights the season has to offer. On the menu this weekend were Maryland crab cakes, local sweet corn off the cob, seasoned heirloom tomatoes and onions, and a key lime pie (UD’s specialty).
This visit made it quite clear the extent to which food characterizes just about all facets of my life (work, read, write, play, eat (duh), family, friends, and the list goes on…). When I got in around 10 o’clock, I was met at the door with many hugs from AA, UD, and three of my younger cousins visiting from Atlanta. After the shower of love, I was given a full itinerary of food-related activities for the next day. On the list – a work day at Chesapeake’s Bounty and a visit to Spider Hall Farm.
Gorgeous produce at Chesapeake’s Bounty
Chesapeake’s Bounty
On Saturday morning, my sweet 13-year-old cousin Annabeth and I ventured off to find Chesapeake’s Bounty, a local farm and farmstand serving up fresh local foods, seafood, and flowers and plants to the local community. It was about a 10 minute drive from the house, on a scenic corner right off the highway. There were many stands of fresh produce around the main building and a sizable nursery nearby. We gravitated towards the many raised beds and garden plots to the left of the main farmstand where a few others were gathered. Every Saturday Chesapeake’s Bounty hosts their Community Work Day, whereby any and all are welcome to work in the garden (weeding, planting, harvesting, and the like), and after a couple of hours are rewarded with a share of the collective bounty, some new friends, and a morning well spent in the soil.
We met Will, the founder and guiding visionary of the farm, which is a permaculture farm. Permaculture is a system of agricultural and social design principles based on the patterns and relationships that exist in natural ecosystems – permanent agriculture, permanent culture. It’s a way of looking at our natural world and placing ourselves within that landscape in ways that are congruent with what naturally occurs – rather than what the majority of society does, which is work in ways that dominate and work counter to nature’s processes.
The farmstand has been in Will’s family since the 1990s, but in 2007 he reopened Chesapeake’s Bounty with a new aim of growing, supporting, and promoting local farm-fresh foods from the Chesapeake Bay Region. The farm itself is situated on top of a landfill. Will has worked to build up soil over time, though various permaculture techniques of using local crab compost, rotational planting, cardboard mulching, and the like. Everything this season was grown with seeds saved from last years harvests, and very little is brought into the farm. It’s quite an impressive closed looped natural system he has going on. I especially appreciated his emphasis on supporting local producers and sustainable agricultural practices, all the while preserving the agrarian wisdom of the area.
“We believe in the health and economic benefits of local food, supporting local farmers, watermen, and other producers and paying fair-market prices (or better) for their products. Our goal is to find new and innovative ways of connecting local food producers with steady markets, while considering the ecological consequences of food production.”
After a couple of hours, Annabeth and I made a few new friends (including some precious baby rabbits), garnered a bag full of tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, ground cherries, okra, and basil, and cultivated a strong sense of community and pride in having experienced the goodness that Chesapeake’s Bounty offers.
We also bought a beautiful bouquet of locally grown flowers destined to become flower halos later in the day, and drove off with some of the best chocolate milk we’ve ever had.
Susan Cox, owner and storekeeper at Spider Hall Farm
Spider Hall Farm
After returning to the house for a picnic-style lunch of vegan chill a la Auntie Ann, we headed over to the farmstand at Spider Hall Farm. Auntie Ann was eager for me to connect with the owner, Susan Cox, who has been involved in the local agriculture scene for many years. As the wife of a tobacco farmer, Mrs. Cox expressed having experienced the highs and lows of commodity crop farming. She and Mr. Cox have stayed in the tobacco business for many years, introducing agri-tourism opportunities that have been wildly popular on their farm, especially during the fall season with hay rides, corn mazes, and the like. Now, her daughters are planning on taking over the farm to continue their mother’s vision and work of sourcing and aggregating local, sustainable and organic products to share with the local community.
Spider Hall Farm is a 362 acre farm and is one of the few remaining working farms of its size in Calvert County. The farm produces wheat, barley, corn, pumpkins, soybeans and tobacco. Spider Hall also runs a farmstand that operates much like a food hub in that it aggregates locally produced dairy products, meats, veggies and fruits, soaps and lotions, hand-made crafts, and other delights in one place, connecting many local small-scale producers to the wider market. It was inspiring to meet Mrs. Cox and to hear her family’s story and journey with local agriculture.
On the way out, Auntie Ann grabbed some spicy pickles and sweet corn for supper while Annabeth and I picked up another beautiful bouquet of fresh cut flowers – we couldn’t resist the colorful draw of the zinnias, sunflowers and hyacinths.
What a day!
—
After our adventures and with the afternoon sun was still blaring down, Annabeth and I found a shady spot on the lawn and settled down to make flower halos and get to know each other. The last time we spent time together was when she was about 8-years-old. While we talked about places we’d love to travel, learning of our shared frustration with food waste in America, and our shared love of art, I thought about how fast time flies. It was not too long ago that I was thirteen laying on that same lawn, unsure of what the future would bring, but excited all the same.
With a family’s love, the beauty of nature, and good food, who could not be happy?
It’s been two weeks since I graduated from Sewanee, and after time on the road visiting family and friends, I’ve finally settled down in Raleigh for the summer.
Graduated! Could not have done it without you two
In this period of transition, I’ve been reflecting on my college experience and my current path forward. Over those 4 years, I grew – a lot. I gained a better sense of self, not only in who I am, but who I’d like to be. I developed an amazing group of friends, that, though geographically scattered, I know will always be key players in my life. Most importantly, from my liberal arts education, I learned not only to think quickly, write well, and collaborate with other people and disciplines, but also how to claim knowledge.
To the left goes Colorado, and the right to Vermont – but no matter, that’s what planes and phones are for
Growing up, I, like many others, was conditioned to view knowledge as something to be learned – processed, if you will. In truth, knowledge is everywhere – in our kitchens, backyards, gardens, neighborhoods, gyms, offices, grocery stores, and the list goes on and on. Knowledge is everywhere – waiting for us. It’s in the stories of our neighbors, the conversations with strangers, and the stew of experiences, creativity, and ideas that occurs when people get together. It takes gumption, awareness, a discerning eye, and a humble willing spirit, to claim it. So, a huge thank you to Sewanee, for teaching me all that and more.
In thinking about my goals for the summer before heading to Vermont Law School in the fall, this notion of claiming knowledge is a bit harder to sustain in the “real world” than I thought it would be. I want to learn as much as possible about the urban food corridor developing right in my neighborhood. I want to meet local business owners and those working on the Raleigh City Farm to hear their stories. I want to read the 30+ books I’ve acquired since the beginning of the year, since I now “have time”, in “theory”, to do so. I want to deepen my yoga practice at my local studio. I want to do all these things and more, and I will (I will!), but, man, this transitional period is a bit awkward.
With no 9:00AM classes, weekly scheduled meetings, hours at the greenhouse, “breaks”, or any of my usual routine markers, the “real world” is a bit harder to navigate. I’ve been struggling to find time to read, write, and work on projects, because I’ve been unpacking, servicing my car, going to doctor’s appointments, figuring out student loan payments, and getting settled in for the summer. All very real and practical things that take a lot longer than most expect.
Horton Grove Nature Preserve | Bahama, NC – Site for REI Outdoor School: Outdoor PhotographyThe Group
In my frustration, I’ve searched for outlets to inspire and motivate me out of this post-grad funk – rock climbing, outdoor photography, volunteering, and just walking around my neighborhood to see what’s new. I was reading the June issue of Outside, and there’s a compelling Into the Wild-eqsue piece on Francois Guenot, a disenchanted outdoorsman who rejected consumerist ideals and modern societal practice, holding much disdain for the excess and waste of the world (it’s starts on pg. 74 if this guy peaks your interest). Francois trekked over 3,000 miles through Quebec, the American Southwest, California, Yellowstone, and the Alaskan peninsula, all on borrowed skis, department-store bikes, and makeshift boats. Though Francois ultimately shared the same fate as Chris McCandless, everywhere he went he connected with the community, with the people. He sought freedom, wilderness, and difference, but he cherished connection and simplicity. His adventures and journey were an admonition against capitalist excess and gear junkies who think experiencing the outdoors requires the latest and most hi-tech gear. “He challenged you to live differently.” What a thing, to live differently.
A selfie taken by François during a 2012 pack-rafting trip. Photo: Outside Magazine, courtesy of the Guenot family
Francois’ story is at once both stereotypical and astonishing. He’s been written off by some as another ill-prepared, ill-guided wanderluster, but also remembered and admired for his commitment to simplicity, community, the natural world, and self. One of the most powerful questions I’ve ever been asked is, “What would you do if money were not an object?” How much good would you go out and do, if money were not a barrier. I think one of the most remarkable things about my generation – the too often quoted “Millennials” – is that the answer to this question for many of us, is that money is not a barrier. We are willing to take risks. We are willing to go into debt. We are willing to be poor, dirty, and vulnerable. We are willing to do the hard thing, in the hopes of achieving a better outcome – no matter what the scale.
Jez, who is heading to Greece in 3 weeks for a summer of permaculture and exploration
One such example is my good friend Jez, who recently graduated from Yale majoring in molecular biophysics and biochemistry. Jez is going into public health, and was originally planning on dabbling in investment banking before medical school. He has since been inspired by sustainable agriculture, food sovereignty, and systems thinking – becoming an advocate for integrative approaches to health that incorporate science, economics, community dynamics, and culture. Almost a year ago, I was meeting him for lunch in New Haven telling him about WWOOFing at Pay It Forward Farm, and during our conversation he heard the word for the first time – “permaculture”. This summer Jez is headed off to Greece to get his Permaculture Design Certification. Time, change – difference.
We are nudging our way into economic markets, food systems, community groups, government organizations, law firms, hospitals, and other far off and at home places in order to make a difference. The “nudgers”, as Dr. Rebecca Dunning, Senior Research Scholar of Horticultural Science at NCSU, called us during my orientation with the North Carolina Growing Together (NCGT) initiative. We are nudging change forward. Difference, what a thing (what a thing!).
So, in looking towards my goals for this summer, I’ve decided to aggregate them under one big umbrella goal – difference, for self and others. I’m going to go out and claim the knowledge and experiences around me, no holds barred. Starting June 1st, I’ll be working with the NCGT Initiative through the Center for Environmental Farming Systems as an 8-week apprentice. My mentoring business will be Firsthand Foods, a sustainable meat aggregator based in Durham. The focus will be marketing, social media development, and communications regarding locally sourced and sustainably raised meat, pushing forward the use of the whole animal (permaculture, yeah!), environmental stewardship, university food systems, and supporting small and middle range farmers in the larger market.
In nudging forward, this passage from one of my graduation gifts, Rebuilding the Foodshed: How to Create Local, Sustainable, and Secure Food Systems, ties together the importance of claiming knowledge, experience, and connection:
“[T]he emphasis on relationships inherent in the local food push is the most exciting aspect of it all: we are consciously making the choice to build new economic relationships, rekindle traditional ways of doing business, support those in need, and even invent new technology-based social networks that can, rather ironically, link neighbors… The narratives of this good work start to drive the numbers… It is though these stories that we move the local food agenda forward.”
Building, rekindling, supporting, inventing, and linking stories to push things forward. In whichever cause that inspires you, whichever mission that drives you, and whatever goal you want to achieve, go out and claim all the knowledge available to you – learn the stories, but keep in mind that difference is not only in success, but in the process.
This past week I had the awesome opportunity of having my writing published on National Geographic’s The Plate, an online blog dedicated to the discussion of our nation’s food system. The published article was a reworked version of my very first blog post from last November. I was (obviously) very excited about this opportunity, given my status as a new blogger, but the journey from my first post to having a much larger audience seeing, reading, and actually wanting to know more about me and my experience was and still is crazy to me, but also very exciting.
For starters, my first post “Delayed Beginnings, Ongoing Inspiration” was a while in the making. Over the summer I had toyed with the idea of keeping a blog during my internship on the farm, as many of my friends had during their own internships and semesters abroad, but my days were busy and I had little time to dedicate to writing. At least, that was my excuse. In the fall, I returned to school after an enormously freeing and inspiring summer. I felt stifled. I felt like I was no longer advocating, acting, or working on a cause that I was so deeply passionate about. I felt trapped in a cycle of waking, learning, studying, sleeping, and repeating day in and day out. After a couple of weeks of wallowing in this self enforced state of mind, I realized that I could be doing something. Regardless of my location and my schedule, I was capable of continuing my efforts in the good food fight. I just had to find the right outlet.
One day while checking my mail at the student post office, I passed a flyer for a community event about journalism and the environmental movement. The guest speaker for this event was award-winning journalist and former CNN reporter Frank Sesno, who is now the director of the School of Media and Public Affairs at the George Washington University. Unfortunately, after checking my week’s schedule I realized the talk was during one of my classes, but, an opportunity to meet him for coffee and discussion before his talk was presented to me via email. So, I met with Mr. Sesno, along with 4 other students for some hot coffee and compelling discussion.
From Planet Forward’s Newsletter
He asked us about our interests, our passions, and was completely sincere in doing so. He shared with us his own experiences in college, working in the world of journalism, and highlighted the changes in that world today. Social media savvy, he said, is one of the biggest advantages our generation, the “Millenials”, has over our predecessors. Blogging, tweeting, and engaging with social media interfaces are highly influential and far reaching avenues to activating both our voice and potential, all of which Mr. Sesno emphasized. While he encouraged us to put ourselves out there, he also shared with us the work and mission of Planet Forward, a project of the Center for Innovative Media at the School of Media and Public Affairs that serves as an online public forum facilitating discourse of energy, climate and sustainability. Before we parted, he encouraged each of us to get out there and write something. So, the idea of blogging came up again.
In the days following, I approached various mentors about the subject and received incredibly mixed reviews. One said go out and do it! Another cautioned that I should worry about anonymity, which confused me because if no one knew it was my writing, would it still be my voice?! Another told me to ditch the idea altogether and wait until I got my Master’s or PhD so I would know what I was talking about. But, what about the whole “voice of the generation” thing? What about finding my outlet? Fortunately, a good friend of mine didn’t give me an answer when I asked for one. He asked me to ask myself if this was something I wanted, and if I cared what others would think. The answers were easy. Yes and no. So, I sat down with my computer, a cup of tea, and poured my thoughts and feelings into my writing. Into this blog.
At first, the responses from my friends and peers were enormously supportive and motivating. But once the initial hype died down, what kept me going was the fact that I was doing something. I was going out and meeting members of my local food system, and those in other locales, and asking them the hard questions for which, in this day and age, we need the answers. No longer can we go on unaware of our local resources and the good being done in our neighborhoods and communities. I realize I play only a small role in all this, but, when I sit here and type out these words, I know that I am playing some sort of role – and that’s what matters to me.
“A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality.” – John Lennon
Fortunately, my role was acknowledged by the amazing team over at Planet Forward. After sending Mr. Sesno my blog, I was connected with Taylor Cook, a spunky, fun, and incredibly inspiring woman who serves as an outreach coordinator for Planet Forward. Taylor hails from the South and is a graduate of the University of Mississippi, where she organized several grassroots campaigns for sustainability and social justice. We Skyped one day and had a great conversation about food, farming, activism, and the increasing role young people are playing in it all today. During our talk, she mentioned my blog and asked if I would be interested in having my piece about WWOOFing featured on Planet Forward’s site and on National Geographic’s the Plate. Would I be interested? What a question. After ending a truly enjoyable conversation (I keep finding more and more reasons to love this “career” path I’m headed towards, and Taylor, you’re one of them!), I began the process of editing and expanding my work, with the guidance of Planet Forward’s managing editor, Mike DeVito. From beginning to end, it was a great experience and I am very grateful to have my writing published on both these sites.
The connections didn’t end there. Another outlet for change and personal happiness I am pursuing this semester is with Mooney’s Market and Emporium. I’m currently working with Joan to manage the store’s garden, which, coupled with research and interviews for the blog, has reconnected me with the root (literally) of my passion. My mind is working, my hands are dirty, and my heart is full.
It’s a weedy world out there.
One day, while in the garden, I joined a conference call with Planet Forward. The agenda for the call was planning their Feeding the Planet Summit this coming April. When I jumped on the call, I heard a little “ding” and was prompted by Mr. Sesno to introduce myself, since at that point I was just, well, a “ding”. After introducing myself to professors and researchers from the University of Mississippi, Furman, Sewanee, and other institutions, Mr. Sesno passed kind words about my Campus Voices feature on The Plate and the Planet Forward pages. For about 45 minutes, while I weeded and tilled, I listened to propositions and plans for engaging experts, activists and students over the issues of climate change and agriculture. I was also asked for my input, which I gave breathlessly – sometimes my excited nature dispels the reality that I need to breathe. I put in my two cents advocating for permaculture keynote speakers for which I have contacts up North. Though my battery died before the call ended, I smiled, put my phone away, and continued my work in the garden. A few hours later I received an email from Taylor relaying what I missed and a promise to keep me in the loop for further developments. More smiles.
This above all; to thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.
– William Shakespeare
This experience has taught me that being heard is important, because we all have something to say. What’s difficult is figuring out the how. How will you be heard? By who? Fortunately, through the connections I made, and with the support of others, I bit the bullet and put myself out there, vulnerable to the virtual elements. But, what came back was not only crazy but it really was exciting. Yes, I have an article published on two pretty well known sites, but I’ve also made a few new friends, and have enriched my awareness of my own capabilities, and have honored my voice all along the way.
2014 what a year you have been – for me, for many. I split this Christmas season between the hustle and bustle of my home in Raleigh, and the peace and quietude of the Great Smoky Mountains. This dichotomy facilitated both excitement for the holiday festivities, but also the necessary time and space for contemplation and reflection. On Christmas Eve I attended the Festival Eucharist of Christmas service at Christ Church near my apartment in downtown Raleigh. The service was beautiful. The congregation was dressed in their very best with suits and dresses, reds and blacks, and a Scottish kilt or two. Amongst the vibrant poinsettias and golden accents, weaved the spirit of Christmas, of reverence, of peace, of hope, reverberating with the chants of O Come All Ye Faithful and harmonious whispers of Silent Night. The Reverend James P. Adams gave an amazing sermon about the hopefulness and vulnerability that pervades us all, as well as our faith in the fact that everything will be OK.
The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone.– Isaiah 9:2
This year was one that I marked, “the year Eva would find herself”. Did I find myself? How do you even measure that? But, the people I met, the adventures I went on, the chances I took, and the many new, hard, crazy, and joyful experiences I had – they all pushed me. They pushed me out of my comfort zone, out of former conceptions of reality, and out of doubt in myself. I don’t know if I found all of myself per se, but I did realize a whole heck of a lot about who I am, what I believe, and what I want to do with this one life I’ve been given. A light of sorts shining from above and within.
Pure joy – Pay it Forward Farm 2014
The UN marked 2014 as the International Year of Family Farming (IYFF), emphasizing the importance of traditional agricultural practices, international food security, and the fact that family farming is deeply and inextricably linked to national and global food security – out of the 570 million farms in the world family farms make up 500 million and are responsible for at least 56% of global agricultural production. Clearly, our world’s small scale farmers are vital to our global subsistence, especially in the good ol’ USA, where 83% of our land is managed and farmed by family farms. Through their local knowledge and sustainable farming methods, these family farmers can improve yields and create a much more diversified and nutritious food system. But, as the IYFF and organizations like Civil Eats, Food Tank, Wholesome Wave, the Greenhorns and a host of others emphasize, there is still much to be done. Small scale farming is still highly underestimated, unsupported, and, quite frankly, assaulted and overshadowed by the global corporate food system. But awareness is growing, support is spreading, and change is happening. How do we measure this change? I don’t know that either – I don’t set the metrics, the scales, the quotas, or whatever else those who check off and say, “OK, yeah things have changed” use. But the beautiful thing is, we don’t really need all of that. When we see change in our communities, when we assist in its occurrence, when we feel it, we know that it’s happening.
A gathering of those committed to change – Slow Money 2014
The teachings of permaculture now grace more flyers, libraries, classrooms, and organizations than ever before. I’ve encountered so many this year who either have their PDC (Permaculture Design Certificate) or are hoping to pursue one in the near future. Urban gardens, farmers markets, farm-to-fork restaurants, exposing documentaries, compelling books, eye opening studies, and the ‘organic’, the ‘sustainable’, and the ‘green’ – it might just be me, but these entities seem to be in almost every city, on every social media interface, and bridging all generations. I’ve never seen the words ‘local’, ‘farm fresh’, or ‘all natural’ in basic grocery stores more in my life, but as many of us know, those terms are tricky when it comes to corporate food production. But, as 2014 demonstrated, corporate food production is having to put up a fight – to either sink or swim, to either change their practices or face the music and suffer losses. Why? Because of change. Our nation’s people no longer want food that is harmful to their bodies, harmful to the people who produce it, and harmful to the environment it is grown in. They have voted for better, for slower, for fairer. They have voted for change. Great things are happening, with much more to come. The light is definitely shining.
As I write this, I think about the many inspiring and provoking articles and news pieces I’ve read this year. They detailed various projects and progress made in various locales, and I smile now as much is occurring in my own locale of Raleigh. During the Christmas eve service, Rev. Adams noted that the offerings from all 5 Christmas services would be made towards the Episcopal Farmworker Ministry, an organization that responds to the physical, emotional, and spiritual needs of migrant and seasonal farmworkers and their families. Businesses like Happy and Hale, Poole’s Downtown Diner, Videri Chocolate, Wine Authorities, and Yellow Dog Bakery, and organizations like the Raleigh City Farm, Slow Money NC, and Interfaith Food Shuttle celebrate another year (some celebrating their first or second years) of providing local, sustainable, and wholesome food products to our community, while raising the necessary awareness about family farmers and the plate of hunger.
Picking up donations at Whole Foods
This past Monday, my partner Patrick and I spent the day volunteering with Interfaith Food Shuttle. We woke up to a dark wintery sky and headed out to the organization’s headquarters. We were “Warehouse Warriors” for the day, and would be accompanying a staff member of the Transportation and Distribution department on their driving route. Our volunteer leader was Erik, an energetic, friendly and dedicated member of the Interfaith team hailing from Brooklyn, NY. We had 8 stops, 4 hours, and just enough room for 3 in the front of the truck, rendering quite the recipe for quick friendship!
Erik and his family moved to Raleigh about a year ago so that his children could benefit from the North Carolina education system. Since we were spending the day collecting food donations, I asked him what his views were on natural and organic foods. Though he admits that organic and local food is often more expensive, he thinks it is important to incorporate what you can into your diet. He also emphasized that many people cannot even begin to think about buying natural, organic, or local, they are just preoccupied with getting any food at all on their plates at all, which is one of the aims of Interfaith – to increase local food knowledge and access through their teaching farm and by sourcing donations from local businesses.
Erik, our fearless leader for the day
Whole Foods, Trader Joe’s, BJs Warehouse, Walmart, Fresh Market, and the Butcher’s Market were some of the stops on our route. Our day consisted of driving to each of these locations, pulling up to the loading dock, walking into the business and loading the prepared food donations into the truck. At every location there were carts full of produce, baked goods, meats, and other food products – and to my pleasant surprise, the majority of these donations were natural, sustainable, or organic products. Also surprising, was the quality and amount that was donated. Many popular holiday items like pumpkin pies, hams, and salad mixes, and other favored products like coffee, milk, fresh fruit and veggies, and various other snack items were in abundance. These were not the traditional canned or boxed items that I have often experienced with organizational food drives. We filled the truck by the time we arrived at the last pick-up location, but the day was not without struggle. At one location we encountered donations that, despite Erik’s strength and experience, would have been far too heavy and poorly packaged for one person to handle and were difficult even for the 3 of us. But, we managed what we could and were grateful to each business for their gifts.
Patrick and Erik organizing the many donations
After 4 hours and 6,226 pounds of mostly natural, organic, local and wholesome food products loaded into the truck, we drove to our delivery location at Catholic Parish Outreach (CPO). After unloading the many boxes and pallets stacked with food, I asked a CPO staff member about where the food goes. Their organization feeds just over 11,000 families and distributes about 250,000 pounds of food each month. As I looked around while we unloaded, I saw many families rolling carts to their cars with bags filled with the very items we had unloaded. It was apparent. I could see it. I was participating in it. I could feel it. Change was and is happening, and the light is spreading – through awareness, support, and, most importantly, faith. Faith in God, in local food, in those who produce it, in those who distribute it, in those who advocate for its justice, and in the hope that everything really will be OK. Thank you Erik and Interfaith Food Shuttle, for such an uplifting and enjoyable volunteer experience.
2014, looking back at you, I am filled with much joy and gratitude, as well as the faith to say goodbye and turn my gaze forward to the coming new year.
Wishing you and yours an awesome, adventurous, and happy New Year!
– E
*The views expressed in this article are not affiliated with any of the mentioned business or organizations, but are those of Erik, who agreed to participate, and Our Hungry Food.
The inspiration and desire to begin this blog have been building up for quite some time. It began last summer right there under that wooden sign – “Pay It Forward Farm”. As a 22-year-old senior at a liberal arts college, I’ve spent many summers working in offices of truly wonderful and impactful organizations where I gained valuable experience and made lasting connections. But (oh, the infamous “but”), there was always a part of my inner self that wanted just a little bit more. It was the part of me that didn’t want to sit behind a desk from 9:00 to 5:00 just yet, but wanted to explore and experience the world around me. So, last summer I decided to ditch the desk and do just that – explore. Explore self. Explore life.
I’ve always been interested in food and have been a supporter of the “organic” movement for some time without actually having a real grasp of the term’s meaning, which I’ve found to be the case for many. I took a suggestion from a friend last spring to venture onto the WWOOF USA network (greetings to any fellow wwoofers reading this!). I spent hours going through the many pages of organic farms in locales across the country. The farm bios were compelling, detailing their mission, operations, and tasks for which assistance was needed. Many owners simply seemed eager to have open natured and hard working visitors to add to their communities for one, two, three weeks to several months. The photos from each farm absorbed both my attention and imagination for several hours – scenes of coastal and mountain landscapes, vibrant flora, collections of gorgeous produce and value-added goods, smiling faces, and dirty hands. My mind was reeling at the thought of rolling around laughing in the soil as I sat at my desk in my dorm.
“Nature always wears the colors of the spirit.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson
That night I sent inquires to a handful of farms, and the first response I received came all of (wait for it) … 34 minutes later. As fate would have it that first response came from Sophie Viandier, owner and founder of Pay If Forward Farm, who is now one of my closest friends. Her message was full of excitement for the upcoming growing season and the ensuing projects and plans. After a few days of back and forth correspondence we established 3 main things:
1) We were both extremely excited individuals by nature
2) I was coming to her farm, which was a permaculture farm
and
3) We organized an internship geared toward regenerative and sustainable agriculture (which later evolved into an intensive crash course in permaculture)
With the reality of the upcoming farm internship, the excitement I felt (both natural and situational) made me realize that this was a step in the right direction for me. This was something I wanted to do with my life. That “something” wasn’t exactly clear to me yet, but I knew that a farm, dirt, and growing things with excited young people was greatly appealing to me.
With all that said, traveling from my home in North Carolina to New Hampshire was quite the journey, and also quite the expense. I decided to pursue an opportunity to receive funding for my internship on a Thursday, 5 days before the application was due. Sophie and I were able to get a proposal together within 48 hours, but one component of the application was missing: an interview with a professional in a related career field. Shoot. But, (there’s that “but” again!), fate took hold. Earlier that spring I expressed interest to my aunt about pursuing environmental work after school, and she put me in contact with a family friend who works with multi-party engagement and decision making, often within natural resource management issues. We had been meaning to set up a time to speak about future careers, and thankfully, fate connected us on the Monday before the application was due. 3 weeks later, funding was gratefully received, and a few weeks after that I hit the road for New Hampshire.
Sophie, Owner & Founder of Pay It Forward
My experience at Pay It Forward Farm (PIFF) was phenomenal. No, exceptional. No, remarkable. No, life changing. Words have yet to do it justice, but I’m still trying. For six weeks, I lived with a dynamic influx of young people: travelers, a timber framer, a poet, a musician, a photographer, a barista, a dancer, a Phish addict, and a Selectman of the town (aka Sophie the Wonder Woman), as well as different versions of myself with which I became better acquainted. My housemates, my PIFF family, they were intellectuals, artists, change-makers – they were absurdly inspiring. Adding to the absurdity were the friends that passed under the “Pay It Forward” sign, who were of that same spectacular caliber – writers, scientists, sailors, politicians, artists, flower essence farmers, war veterans, architects, outdoorsmen, homesteaders, and just all around good people.
Work party weeding carrot rows at a friend’s farm
Our days were spent planting, watering, harvesting, working in community gardens, teaching kids about where their food comes from, moving green houses and compost toilets in unconventional ways, shoveling and transporting truck beds of compost, meeting other farmers in the area, visiting farmers markets, helping on our friends’ farms via weeding or emotional support during animal slaughtering, supporting local events, attending policy and permaculture meetings (sometimes separate meetings, sometimes one in the same), finding places and uses for the plethora of donated riches (futons, artwork, chairs, beds, tables, shelves, supplies, you name it) to the farm, and preparing meals for our farm family.
We cooked for each other, sharing favorite recipes and stories.
We held parties with our farming friends, where any and all we ran into were invited and offered any and all food and drinks we had.
We spent our nights under the stars talking, sometimes about heady epistemological ideas and hopes for the future, and other times about joys and frustrations from the day.
We laughed a lot, sometimes we cried, I think once or twice there was some yelling, but man, we just lived.
During these weeks my existence was materially simple yet spiritually rich, and I felt much happiness as a result. What resonated most was that the nourishment of my body (and by extension my soul) mainly came from less than 50 miles away. We ate salads, radishes, beans, and herbs from the gardens we managed. Our eggs were fresh every morning from our 4 chickens. We baked our own bread. Mountains of kale, basil, swiss chard, beets, and garlic from our farming friends. Rich New Hampshire Maple syrup from a friend’s sugar shack 5 miles down the road. Raw milk from the town over. Insanely delicious French pastries from a friend basically next door. The hay and goat manure used in our gardens were local. Almost every step along the way, from planting, to harvesting, to purchasing, and consuming, we knew the face of that member of our local food system. This was the ideal.
Tarte macarons and homemade breadGreens from a friend’s farm
“Food is not rational. Food is culture, habit, craving and identity.” – Jonathan Safran Foer
The not so ideal was that we were a group of young farmers and workers facing the hardships of financing projects, inadequate compensation of time and money, dependent on weather in determining the day’s market success (or lack thereof), and mustering up the necessary energy each day to work hard while oftentimes lacking the necessary support – economic, social, and political. This life is hard, but the benefits, progress, and community is what keeps it going. I am so grateful to everyone from my time at PIFF for sharing their inspiration and unstoppable drive with me. Sending love to you all.
Around the bonfire with friends
So, I’ve shared with you some of my journey to now. My inspiration has been ongoing and accumulating over the past few months to the point of creative explosion, thus manifested in this blog. But hey, better a delayed beginning than none at all, right? My hope is to share stories from local food systems across the country – the good, the bad, the pretty, and the ugly, and along the way share a few of my own. With food being high on economic, social, and political agendas of the day, I hope you’ll join this journey with me to hear stories of what those in our food system are hungry for you to know. Stories of our hungry food: the spiritual and physical hunger of those who produce it as well as those who consume it.
Friendly Fodder 