This is a photo of my great-great grandmother Effie Annie Earls. Effie grew up in Metcalfe County Kentucky where she along with the rest of her family grew most of their own food. There was nothing special or glorious about it...it was just part of life. A life where you depended on your family, neighbors and community to meet your basic needs. A lot has changed on Kentucky farms in the past 100 years.
Nathan grew up on a farm in Hart County (one county over from Metcalfe) on what we now call a conventional farm growing crops like corn, soy, wheat and tobacco. He was taught to work hard and depend on the farmers in his community. Like many young people growing up on a farm in Kentucky tobacco paid Nathan's way off the farm and into college so he could pursue a career. We met at Western Kentucky University pursuing degrees in agriculture.
This photo was taken on our first "date" touring irrigation systems on fruit and vegetable farms.
After graduation we were both hired by the University of Kentucky to assist tobacco farmers transition to fruit and vegetable crops. We were given the hard task to convince farmers who were losing their dependable tobacco crops to take a risk on fruits and vegetables. This wasn't always easy to accomplish considering fruits and vegetables are often times more difficult to grow, labor intensive and have an unpredictable market. We spent the next decade of our lives helping farmers stay on their family farms.
My high school job at a local orchard led me to pursue that degree in agriculture after witnessing the connection between people and seasonal food. I was fascinated with the enjoyment over the first peach of the season or the celebration of apples each fall. But even with a degree in agriculture and work experience in fruit and vegetable production we like many others were overworked and overwhelmed and eating the most convenient foods possible. When my second child was born and refused bottles of formula I began a breastfeeding relationship with her that changed my life. I began to look at food in a completely different way. Local food was a motivator for me to eliminate more processed foods from our diet and increase real, whole foods.
The first change I made to our diet was the green smoothie back in 2009. Later a farming woman reached out to me and offered to help me with simple recipes and a love relationship with local food and farmers began. This began our stronger connection to our community and the realization that everyone is capable of overcoming obstacles in their lives and finding their best.
About the time that I was adding green smoothies, fresh milk and brown eggs to our diet Nathan began growing over 20 varieties of heirloom tomatoes. He loves to experience the excitement from customers as they enjoy the variety of flavors available in diversified crops. In 2011 Community Farmers Market opened and we found ourselves surrounded by a group of farmers who both valued what we had to contribute to the market and our community and encouraged us to follow our passion to farm full time. In April of 2013, surrounded by supportive farmers, chefs, friends and customers we started our year round CSA.
The making of our multi-farm CSA is part of our family story. Woven through our childhoods, pathways to adulthood, becoming parents, and finding our voices as local food advocates you will find the farmers who help us feed 35 families, including our own. We went through undergrad in the agriculture department at WKU with the Coleman Brothers and now Tracy Coleman and his partner Chelsea Williams are owners of Crooked Creek Farm and contribute whole chickens and pork to our weekly boxes. Those peaches and apples I remember so fondly help us add variety to our summer and fall boxes. The farming woman who was willing to reach out to me when I started my path to whole foods now provides eggs, beef and pork to our CSA. The milk that took me beyond fruits and vegetables with local farmers is a staple for our customers each week. The cheese, corn meal, granola, fresh baked bread and soups come from real people with stories just like ours who want to be about something real and meaningful.
Read about our CSA from a share memebers perspective HERE.
We grow all of the fruits and vegetables provided in our CSA (outside of tree fruits) on a little over two acres. Each day is a balance of planting and harvesting as we move from one season to the next. Our business model is simple. Feed ourselves and 35 households well while creating growth in the local food system and more opportunities for consumers to support farmers. It's hard work and can seem so big, but I'm reminded that it's as simple as growing, preparing and eating food just like the Earls back in Metcalfe County (or as close as possible, I suppose).
Have our grandparents convinced us that gardens were easy to grow? We were there as seeds were planted and then again as fruit was harvested, but did we miss the breaking of ground, amendments to soil, training of vines and back breaking work of weeding and picking? Must we learn through our mishaps and failures that the harvest only comes after hard work and perseverance?
We've thought about this a lot lately as we have been reminded by another summer at how hard farming really is. In the present it's become a very idealistic way to make a living (captured on instagram and facebook). Like anything worthy of our time it's very hard work and important that the next generation is able to experience it fully so that they really know.
I'm hesitant to write about vulnerability in a place dedicated to farming and simple living, but in an effort to be BOLD in places that make me scared to death I'm going for it.
"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly..." Theodore Roosevelt
What I've learned along the way is that to be fully present, to show up, to dig deep into our lives we must be willing to be vulnerable. And vulnerability is hard work (in fact, it really stinks at times). From the beginning my calling has been to speak up for families and help them overcome the obstacles in their lives that keep them from their best. I love this work and truly believe in it. But over and over again I kept facing the same thing. I couldn't put my finger on what it was until I finally recognized it as shame.
I'd show up, express my thoughts in a vulnerable way and moments later that feeling of dread would take me over. I'm not worthy to be doing this work. Who do you think you are to be offering advice to other people? You are just asking for others to call you out on your imperfections. My calling and my shame were linked to one another. My past (full of insecurities, difficult circumstances and several bad decisions) had given me the dedication and gumption to help others on a similar journey, but it was the same thing that would halt me in my tracks and make me question myself.
"If we want to be able to move through the difficult disappointments, the hurt feelings, and the heartbreaks that are inevitable in a fully lived life, we can't equate defeat with being unworthy of love, belonging and joy. If we do, we'll never show up and try again." Brene Brown
I can't say that I've overcome shame or the insecurities that rise up when I do something vulnerable. That brings me back to my fear of talking about vulnerability in a place dedicated to the joys of life on a farm. What if no one "likes" my post? What if people are uncomfortable by my vulnerability? What if someone thinks I'm talking about them and not myself?
The thing about shame is that it can cause us to become critics of others or at it's worst begin disengagement with the people we care about most. For that reason I've become determined to recognize it, name it and move away from it before I allow it to hurt others...especially my family. Because in the end food, birth and community is all about our relationships with others and without vulnerability in those relationships we lose the true meaning of life. I want you to know that if shame or fear hold you back from time to time that you are not alone!
A sweet friend of mine once said, "Someone may love the poor, but that doesn't mean that they will want to eat, shop and work along side them." Her comment has had me thinking a lot lately about how we value one another. What if someone has little in financial gain, but everything in character, grace and love for others? How is that reflected in my own life? A farming wife with dirt under my fingernails, reaching for mosquito bitten children (a bit wild from farm life) and driving a vehicle that is dependable, but worn from wear. Does my wit, hard work and determination allow me these things in a world that expects something more? I'm hopeful that I will continue to add complexity to the value system by which I measure others and how I allow myself to be measured as well.
Growing up on a commodity crop farm in Central Kentucky, it seems I have always had Kentucky soil under my fingernails and in my veins. I have grown up knowing that the seeds of spring pay the bills of fall and all the hardships and joys that come in between. We small farmers choose to farm for the friendships, community, and an honest way of life. I left the family farm for higher education and spent 11 years of my life working for the horticulture department at the University of Kentucky. In those 11 years, I helped many small family farms fight to offset the income loss of tobacco with vegetable production. Some failed and some succeeded, but in helping these families across Kentucky, I have come to realize that farmers have a greater picture of life than just the bottom line of a business plan. They want to feel value in what they are doing and worthy of their spot in the world. Whether organic, conventional, or somewhere in between, all small farmers are seeing the same struggles of living out a dream of a sustainable way of life. This is where my passion for farmers markets and other local food production has grown. It’s a great way to connect consumers to producers of all kinds and neighbors are helping neighbors in what is a true profit margin.
For several years of our life we were able to give a lot of time, energy and finances to serving others. I became a stay at home mom reconnecting to what that meant for our family and Nathan had a regular 9-5 job. As we began to transition to small-scale farming in 2010 we took some time to write down some holistic life goals for our family:
Time spent working, playing and learning as a family
A slower, more peaceful life
Enough margin in our life to be there for others when they need us
Investment in faith, health, personal growth
We took it a step further and listed all the ways we could make that happen. Reducing our workload, prioritizing our commitments and a daily commitment to balance. But to be honest the last two years of our lives haven't looked that way. A month after we wrote those words we were in a car accident, our daughter was diagnosed with severe sensitivities and Nathan's mother was diagnosed with a life threatening disease. Staying true to our commitment to farm full time was difficult. We had come out of a time in our lives where we had been able to serve others and we found ourselves needing to be served. Thankfully we were blessed with compassionate people who surrounded us with love and a lot of hard work!
Today was a monumental day in our journey to finding more peace. For the first time in two years we were able to see a glimpse of what those words on paper were supposed to mean. A neighbor needed help and Nathan was able to stop what he was doing and jump in on a project for as long as was needed, when there were errands to run in town we all jumped in the car and went together. I had enough space in my day to respond to emails with the time and emotional investment my friends deserve. While we've learned that farming full time means we will always need a strong network of community around us it sure feels good to have more time to serve them back!
farm. eat. connect. grow. write. collaborate. believe. empower. market. sustain. teach. engage.
Nathan moved off his traditional family farm in Hart Co. Kentucky to go to college and find a career. Twelve years later he finds himself back on a Kentucky farm farming full time. This time he's growing fruits and vegetables and building partnerships with other farmers to build a Community Supported Agriculture program. Nathan will be sharing tips on practical farming skills, farmers market development and balancing life on a farm.
Michelle is a wife, mom, writer and advocate for food, birth and community. She works along side her husband on the farm to develop weekly food subscriptions that help families overcome obstacles to eating healthy, local food. Michelle will be sharing thoughts on our food system, balancing motherhood with personal passions, collaboration and grassroots marketing for both farmers and markets.