A city girl's explorations into sustainable living

Recently I found myself unemployed, pondering what I should do with my life next. All the career books say, do what you love. Find your passion. Follow your bliss. As if there is an answer -- a solution that will allow you to make money doing what you were meant to do. Help the world, help yourself, and make money!

For me, it's not so easy. I'm interested in a lot of things, but nothing that I am willing to invest in enough to turn it into a career.

I'm what Barbara Sher calls a "scanner," or what Margaret Lobenstine calls "the Renaissance Soul." At least that's what these self-help books for the career-stunted tell me.

What I tell myself is that I'm a learner. And what I want to learn about right now is sustainable living. I have a feeling it's what I'm supposed to be doing -- even if it doesn't pay. Even if it COSTS money to do.

I am meant to be a student right now, exploring peak oil, the economic crisis, climate change, sustainable agriculture, community building, permaculture, natural capitalism, Transition Towns, rural sociology, and my own spiritual growth. I honestly don't know where it will lead, or what it will amount to, but I invite you to share my journey.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

When Salatin Came to Town

On March 3, Joel Salatin came to M State and gave two speeches: one in the afternoon, and one in the evening. I had the honor of picking him up at the airport the night before with my friend Tony; it was a truly exciting experience.

Tony and I had to pick Joel up at the airport in Fargo. We got there early and sat down at a cafe. We both had a hankering to get something -- coffee or soda or a snack -- but we didn't because we were nervous about what Joel Salatin might think if he saw us with our disposable cups filled with a food product grown by conventional agriculture and shipped half-way around the world.

I had drawn a sign for Joel with little farm animals so he would recognize us as his ride. We recognized Joel right away, although we were a bit surprised to see him in a suit instead of overalls and a straw hat. It seemed this was Joel-the-professional-speaker, not Joel-the-farmer.

Soon enough we discovered that despite the fancy clothes, Joel was the Joel we knew from the books and movies: smooth-talking, full of energy, and passionate about sustainable agriculture. We tried not to pester him with too many questions in the car (although there was so much we wanted to ask him) and play it cool. But the conversation inevitably drifted from small talk to sustainable farming, and soon I found myself inquiring about his method of killing rabbits.

That evening, we joined Joel for dinner downtown Fergus Falls and drove him back to his hotel afterwards. The following morning, we got to pick him up and take him to M State. We were Joel's un-official chauffeurs, and it was wonderful!

Joel spent the morning with our class answering our questions, and then we had a potluck lunch. All of us had been so nervous making food for Joel Salatin, but we needn't have been: he was a grateful guest and praised our food.

That afternoon, M State had a decent crowd in Legacy Hall ready to listen to Joel speak. Joel did a fantastic job both inspiring and provoking the audience; at one point he said he would like to abolish the USDA, but he admitted that was never going to happen and suggested that we should just abolish all subsidies instead. At the end of his speech, he got a standing ovation from everyone but the farmers who receive big subsidies.

Thursday evening, Joel gave a different speech outlining the six key components of a local food system. Once again, some people were upset -- a few walked out. But most of the audience was enthralled.

One of the best parts of the experience was getting to introduce Joel Salatin before both of his speeches. Yes, indeed -- I got to introduce Joel Salatin! I remembered the introduction given to Wes Jackson at the Prairie Festival; his introducer said he felt like a math teacher introducing Sir Isaac Newton. Now I really felt where he was coming from. Here I was, a city girl with less than one year of experience in the SFP program, and I was introducing THE Joel Salatin!

I can't do justice to his speeches by summarizing them here. Instead, I will wait until they are posted on youtube and post a link. Let me just say that if you have never heard of Joel Salatin, you should look him up. Better yet, read one of his books. I'd suggest starting with "Holy Cows and Hog Heaven." Or you may want to wait for his new book coming out this fall, "Folks, This Ain't Normal."

Community and Local Food

This week my Sustainable Food Production class is once again doing a local food challenge. Our professor made it easier, since it is winter: we just have to eat 3 mostly-local meals this week.

The first time I did the local food challenge -- back in the early fall -- it was very difficult for me. This time, even though there is snow on the ground, it has been a breeze. Why? Because now I have a community.

On Friday, I was invited over to dinner at Mark Boen's house; Mark is the owner of Bluebird Gardens, a local CSA. His wife cooked a delicious turkey dinner using the turkey that I "helped" slaughter on Monday. (By "helped," I mean mostly watched.) Along with the turkey, we had Bluebird Garden potatoes, corn, and deviled eggs.

Last night, I was invited over to dinner at my professors' house (Tom Prieve and Sue Wika) at Paradox Farm. We eat pork chops from Kent Solberg's farm, Seven Pines, along with carrots from Bluebird Gardens and potatoes from Paradox Farm.

Today my breakfast consisted of eggs from Seven Pines and sauerkraut that I made last fall with my class using produce from Bluebird Gardens.

Instead of struggling to find one farm to source my local food, I now have several I had patronize. My meals this weekend have been a mix of food grown by farmers who I know very well: Mark Boen, Sue Wika, Tom Prieve, and Kent Solberg.

This afternoon, I am heading over to Seven Pines to help with milking the cows. I'm sure I will be treated to another mostly local meal at the Solberg residence, and I hope to take home some of their milk so I can make my own yogurt.

The lesson for me has been that a robust local food system must be build on a robust community. We cannot do it alone.

Tony's Article to his Co-Op

Folks, this isn't normal

We are living in a unique period in history – a blip of time that is considerably different from any other the human race has experienced. In less than 100 years, our nation went from food sovereignty to food slavery, thanks in large part to cheap energy.

As a result, we now are dependent on an oil-based food system – a system that is completely unsustainable. Caring for the land has been thrown out the window. The soil is being mined of its minerals. While oil based fertilizers, herbicide and pesticides are being applied with bigger and bigger equipment using more and more fuel. Commodity crops are engineered into every type of food humans can think of, then, travels an average of 1500 miles before being purchased and sometimes simply thrown away.

Our current food production system rewards quantity not quality. The USDA defines success in agriculture in terms of production increases, ignoring the destruction of the family farm, the local food system, rural economies, and natural resources. This is a broken system that is being propped up with government subsidies and defended with our food consumption patterns.

What are we to do? Although there is no silver bullet answer, there is one clear path to change: growing a local foods economy. Choosing to vote with your food dollars is probably the strongest vote we have in regaining control of our food system.

Why local instead of organic?

Simple put, as the sustainable farming guru Joel Salatin has said, “you can't regulate integrity.”

The organic model is a great way to ensure your food is grown without chemicals. But growing organic food on a massive, industrial scale to provide consumers in Minnesota with oranges and bananas in January is an expensive, wasteful process. The production and distribution of organic food – especially when it is out of season – is often bathed in more oil than conventionally-grown food.

Local is the key to saving everything one may feel is being lost with today’s political, economic and social climates. The more locally focused one becomes the more clear it is that local food, local labor, local spending, and local friends are all ways to revitalize our economy, health, and community.

When you can say “I know my farmer” you do not need organic certifications. Customers can visit the farm and see first-hand how the food they eat is grown. Then they can determine for themselves whether the farmer's methods of growing food are in line with their values, rather than trusting bureaucrats, certifying agencies, and government inspectors hundreds or thousands of miles away to make this determination.

Organic regulation is just a poor substitute for first-hand knowledge of and personal connections to your food source. Trusting your farmer, rather than government regulations, is the real key to a transparent, sustainable food system.

How can Grassroots help?

Grassroots can play an important role in building a more robust, sustainable local food system that keeps dollars and knowledge circulating within our community.

First, Grassroots co-op can help re-configure our thought-process about food by purchasing more local food and providing an outlet for that abundance at the end of the season. I have walked through the community gardens and seen letters from residents of Anoka to the gardeners asking permission to save the fruits that hang there and to often rot on the stem. If the gardeners had an avenue to sell there abundance to the co-op, we could salvage that bounty and reduce the waste of those precious food resources.

Second, Grassroots could help by educating people on how eat seasonally, cook with fresh local ingredients, and preserve food stores for the winter.

What next?

Join me in opting out of the industrial model of food production fueled by the politics of growth, waste, and fossil fuels. Let's work together to transition to a more self-reliant, sustainable, local food economy that builds community, integrity, and health.

We don't have to be perfect, but we have to start moving in a more sustainable direction. Plant a garden, join a CSA, forage fruits before they rot on the stem, preserve the harvest, get to know a farmer, or just try to eat what's in season more often. Start wherever you can, but do something. Together, we can help bring our food production back into balance before we no longer have a choice.

It really is up to you. With your food dollar in hand, will you step up to the plate?

Just Do Something

Today I helped a friend of mine by editing an article he wrote for his co-op newsletter. The article was about the importance of supporting and growing the local foods movement.

One of the points it made was that each of us needs to do something, even if it's small, to work towards this goal. We have the power to vote with our food dollars every day, and how we vote helps determine the direction our food system will move.

My friend, Tony, did something. He took the initiative to write an article for his co-0p newsletter extolling the benefits of a local food system and outlining steps to get there. I suppose I did something, too -- I edited the letter. But Tony took the most important step by going to the effort of getting the word out to his community.

More of us need that kind of gumption.