Is farming still just a way of life?

Summer 2014

The romantic idea surrounding farming today in America is riddled with labels and opinions of sustainability. Romantic because every living creature needs to eat and being that close to the the soil that sprouts such a necessary custom is simply satisfying. People love food. It brings us together as humans. Where in an emic demographic, the trendy term "sustainable" needs to ground its community's health with consideration of a shared triple bottom line.

My experience at Spring Ledge Farm has been an extraordinary one. I have been immensely fortunate to work with every person there. I have never worked on a farm before and these six months have been full of genuine, rich, enlightening and sometimes outrageous conversations. Thank You Tasha, Greg, Bruce, Alden, Anne, Jonalyn, Zach, Claire and Thomas. I feel stronger everyday with your help.

Thomas told me one day that "farming could be the most noble profession there is." On the surface, where crops become food, i agreed. There are so many contingencies in this process however. For one, the local debate. Then there is organic, fair trade, direct trade, or hydroponically grown distinctions that require even more dinero to manage pests and weeds.

There are some misconceptions i am hoping to address about the inglorious truth behind American farming. There is a risk of who the misnomers of labeling are benefitting apart of who the general consumer seeks to support. Regardless of technology or unionized organizations that see those products reach the table, people need to work and people need to eat. Days when the rain is never at your back and others where only the relentless sun sucks all the words from the air, sometimes farming is just empty feeling. Those days normally start with "why am i doing this?" and then "i dont get paid enough for this" and finally "im not making any irreplaceable difference." I was not searching to work on a farm as a heroic duty or anything silly like that but to simply learn of what has enabled me to be curious. I was assimilated into the romantic preconception of eating our own food like many people of our generation. As people come and go on the farm or any farm for the matter, the ebb and flow cannot falter.

Is farming still just a way of life as it was two, three generations ago?
Maybe it is for Greg, Springledge's owner.

Perhaps i am insinuating more issues involved with how we as millenia-American society view our food. Starting with where it comes from and what values do those products deserve. Some New Hampshire folks who "live free or die" believe they dont need any more laws that say what they should and should not eat. Somewhere, we as American consumers deserve how to grow what is right for our people, planet and our future. Are these social issues resolved within the American classroom or is it the responsibility of the consumer? The paradox between education or class with what food sources are available is unacceptable. In order to make our own lives healthier, we need to become more socially proactive with what we as a community believe is sustainable to ourselves and the environment.

How does one initiate the greater public in creating a business out of teaching food empowerment?

voice scavenger 2x2

Voice scavenger drop box:
Goal as many responses as possible/allowed

1.) What would you say to those who do not have the same freedom you do?

2.) How can you make your community a healthier place?

3.) What do you wish you could say that you could not before?

4.) Do you think there is a need for more community art in our public space?



All living things starting from insects want happiness and not suffering. However we are only one where as others are infinite in number. Thus it can be clearly decided that others gaining happiness is more important than just your self alone. -Dalai Lama

further inspiration:

 

Henri Beunders: "The End of Arrogance, The Advent of Persuasion"

http://blog.artsusa.org

NH support for the Arts

Purpose:

NH community change

 

survey for voice

final ethnographic methods  

challenges with advocating voices in public spaces 

ethnographic methods 1

This is my first blog in a year. So much has changed, from the scenery, smells, longings and mostly my outlook in this wild world.
I have been working in similar patterns, involving art and the public voice, in different segments of my life. Not until my junior year at the University of New Hampshire have I regained interest in this community driven task.
I want to see more public art. I want to provide unique people and the supressed bathroom wall graffiti artists with an anonymous outlet...
I have been so overwhelemed with the radical notions of power and the abundance of my own ideas that my voice has been muttled. Having too many tangents will not turn an ear. So after weeding through all of the "exploratory" questions I am directing towards a survey for the 15,000 possible participants that attend UNH, I have taken a step back to look at the broader picture.
If we as humans are always striving towards this goal, whatever that may be, Nirvana, self-actualization, heroin, or a new day, if my intentions are good, why is it so difficult to get there?
So I am asking these questions to understand if this is just my own curiousity, that the walls at UNH are too "bland," If there is a sense of a security while being anonymous, and if there is a louder message to be shown.
I have been shut down by the Library Administration to display my project because they do not promote individual projects at the university. I thought this was funny because the project will mean absolutely nothing without the anonymous voice of the people. I was sincerely upset about this at first because of the various reasons why the libary is the most appropiate place for such an interactive project. Mainly because it is a communal high traffic area that encompasses and encourages students of all kinds towards this greater goal. It is also a place that potentially networks and connects people. After the ethnographic methods class and a chat with the professor, I let go of the denial a smidge and focused on breaking in this first step. Winter always turns to spring, so if I let myself channel one project thoroughly without thinking twice, the better I can face the next challenge head on.

El fin

It wasn’t until my junior year of high school that I truly started valuing school at a different level. My parents had always pressed on about school being the most important thing we can give ourselves. I am thankful for their lack of tolerance with bad grades. When I was younger, I remember being jealous of the other kids whose parents paid them on behalf of their good grades. I suggested this to my mother once and she scoffed at me.  “I’ll earn more money from it later” she said.

            My language and composition class that junior year changed my perception of the way a classroom should function. We had a teacher that was unlike many of my own in a manner that simply suggested that she was genuinely interested in how our day was and seemingly concerned with how we shaped our voice. Not only did this bring our class closer together, but we were able to discuss topics of required reading of Into the Wild, Three Cups of Tea, The Color of Water, When the Caged Bird Sings and a few others more freely. We spent a considerable amount of time reflecting and analyzing Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson unbeknownst to his visit to our school a year later. For those who do not know of the book, mountaineer Greg Mortenson stumbles down the Karakoram Mountain of the Himalayan Mountains off the border of Pakistan and India. The less fortunate people of Korphe find him and nurse him back to health while instilling the importance of drinking and cherishing tea. Before he departs for home, he promises the villagers that he would return with the purpose of building them a better school. By raising awareness of the people and his journey, he eventually founds the non-profit Central Asia Institute and turns stones into schools. With this book, I discovered that I wanted to help people on a more personal level through anthropology and teaching, or nursing or art or all of it. I am fortunate enough to live in a country where I can take the most advantage of my educational opportunities. Compared to the people who grew up without this privilege like the villagers in Korphe, I can redirect my focus of study where it makes the most positive difference in their well-being.

            Even when I’m near tears with stress of homework and finals, I remember the intent behind all of my work and how much pressure there is upon me to be the louder voice of somebody. I am thankful for the expensive opportunity in hopes I will continue to discover deeper in a land of doors.

about the other sea story

I have been fascinated by all kinds of boats ever since I was placed in my rocking boat crib my dad crafted. Twenty years later, I am the first to go away to college in my entire seafaring family. What lured me to study anthropology originally was the vast history of maritime activity and the fact that scientists know more about the surface of the moon than the bottom of the ocean. Researching more into my Anthropology of the Art topic of symbols, style shifts and assimilating ideas of the evolving boat, I have discovered my greater passion in the study. Specifically along the Atlantic coast in Colonial Latin America, where aborigines meet European influences and where pirates flourish, art is mustered in a plethora of new forms. From various figureheads, sails, wood construction and the goods these boats traveled with reflect the background and stories from which they were born.

The research process I went through may have been the hardest part in writing about solely one topic. I was constantly distracted by the most fascinating information about different boats and maritime institutes to a point where I refused myself from going online. My biggest difficulty I encountered was time management in this sense because I spent more time digressing from the core of my topic in the Age of Discovery. My original abstract was altered slightly when I started questioning why the differences in boats were prevalent during this time. Based on their intended function and the perspective of the vessel, can one add a certain amount of value. This one word made me focus more on the idea of different cultures reaping the best of favored raw materials for the sake of better shipbuilding. The importance of geography came into play as I analyzed the word “value” and the sense of power that advances with it.

If I were to follow-up on this project, as I plan to do countlessly, I would focus on a single sea story and their reflection upon other cultures as well as their own. Stories of famous pirates or making sense of the uncertain such as the feared Kraken or the re-occurring symbol of mermaids or the enchanted land under the sea known as Atlantis, would have drawn more of a detailed account. When comparing the physical elements of maritime boats, there are so many factors to consider when evaluating a person’s craft. Whether or not their function supports their intention, resembles where their from and is made special reflects the value and strength of its ability to withstand the water’s will. By honing in on a more specific perspective, i could say alot more about their time and place in the larger sea.

consuming art

Within the abundance of new ideas, sights and sounds I consumed this thanksgiving break, I learned more than I thought I would have in a single week. I learned not only more about myself and my hazardous handicap in a jungle of lights, but how to appreciate people more through their creative works. Even amongst a vacant dirty parking lot outside the magical tent of Cirque Du Solei, with the city lights cast in the foggy background, my senses were overwhelmed by the novelty of it all. Rarely would I consider cities something beautiful but as I compared San Francisco to the few eastern cities I have visited, I noticed that people only contribute to adding (or taking away depending on the perspective) beauty to something humankind initially related to begin with.  From a virgin perspective, I was picking up on things I never would have drawn attention to if I was home in the Boston area such as the color of the fire hydrants and the more extravagant-looking homeless people.

This vacation, I sought out art through camera lenses, in food, galleries, stores, lakes, planes, nature, anywhere where my eyes and ears lured me. Every moment was favored for its first time as beautiful. Fortunately I was able to experience the works of various street artists, Salvador Dali, Rob Gonsalves, Dr. Seuss, designers of the Japanese Tea Garden, antique arcade inventors, a winking sushi extraordinaire, and the nature of Lodei’s wineries from above to name a few.

I am so thankful for these new aesthetic experiences and the stories I have to emphasize them. They not only strengthened my appreciation of home tremendously, but they boosted my desire to do more than just one great act. Even Ma’s stuffing can’t compare to the blissful change I’ve consumed this Thanksgiving. This time its not my tummy that aches from chowing but my cheeks from smiling.