We're all on the same side

“Because I advocate for what I am doing does not mean I am against what others are doing.”

Pulled from a Facebook friend’s status update this morning (he’s also a former college classmate that farms), this comment really struck a chord with me. 

“Because I advocate for what I am doing does not mean I am against what others are doing.”

It’s a shared sentiment I've been searching for words to explain, and a philosophy I wish more farmers would advocate for. 

With Agri-View, the newspaper I work for, and especially in its dairy section, I’m constantly wary of covering too much grazing, too much organic, too much large/commercial dairy, too much registered, too much of anything – and trying to keep a balanced perspective, balanced coverage and a balanced stream of information.

I have a deep appreciation for people who have a passion for what they do and that do those things well, no matter what angle they take or sector of the business they’re from. I’m continually fascinated by organizations like MilkSource and their excellence in creating and growing a large dairy business, but at the same time, people and groups at the other end of the philosophy spectrum are equally exciting to listen to, like Gary Zimmer of Otter Creek Organic Farm and Midwestern Bio-Ag and his philosophies on mineral balance in soil.

I don’t buy into the big versus small debate or organic versus conventional from the context of one is better than the other for consumers or for animals – because one isn’t better than the other. All farms can be well-run businesses producing great products and all can be poorly run businesses of like product. It all depends on what our strengths are as agri-business people, our skills and what drives us. Animal care and well-being and product quality are not driven by the label put on the product.

In January, I was lucky and honored to be among a fantastic group of dairy producers and industry professionals at PDPW’s (Professional Dairy Producers of Wisconsin) Managers Academy in Albuquerque, N.M. Among those fantastic speakers and tours we experienced was a virtual tour of Los Poblanos Organics, a rapidly growing CSA (community supported agriculture) business there. Although wary, as I’m sure the other participants were, of being preached to about organic philosophies as superior to more commercial food production philosophies (the philosophies of many of the Academy participants), this business owner – Monte Skarsgard – took a much different approach, an approach quite similar to the Facebook posting that sparked this jumble of my thoughts finally being put to print.

Skarsgard made some key points that should resonate with all food producers. He said his business wasn’t about pitting organic food philosophies against more conventional food production and that “sustainable” must also be profitable or it’s simply not sustainable. A “guiding thread” to his business success is focusing on the positives – telling the story behind the food, “I never let a tomato leave our farm without a story,” and making the connection between consumer and their food. He also said, “Our only competition we have is the person we look at in the morning in the mirror.” Skarsgard pointed out that people are drawn to positive things – like delicious-tasting melons and flavorful chicken, not a diatribe of “that’s going to cause cancer if you eat that.” There’s no room for the negative in his business model.

The sentiments shared by Los Poblanos Organics bring me back to a sentiment I often hear shared at other PDPW events – "dairy producers have a common brand, and that’s milk." Farmers, in general, have a more simplistic brand – food. It’s long past time we get to a point where we just focus on producing the best food we each know how to produce and stop picking on how “the other guy” produces it. Farmers are all on the same side – the side of a tiny minority that’s depended upon to feed an ever-growing world population. And the world needs all we can produce. 

Of course I'm not a vegetarian. Sheesh.

At one of my neighborhood's monthly summer festivals this year I was introduced to a 'friend-of-a-friend,' who happened to be a vegetarian. The usual small talk questions ensued, but quickly went awry.

Her: "What do you do for a living?"
Me: "I'm the editor of a weekly statewide farm newspaper."
Her: "Wow, that's unique. What's your background?"
Me: "I grew up on a dairy farm in southwest Wisconsin."
Her: "Really? Do you eat meat?"
Me: "Yes, of course I eat meat. I grew up on a farm."
Her: "How can you eat meat if you grew up on a farm? Don't you care about animals?"

Whoa. This is when I stepped back for a moment, quite shocked at her questions and began an inner conversation of "Seriously? She seriously just questioned how I could eat meat and my respect for animals? I don't think we'll be friends (my inner conversation wasn't quite that civil)." Anyway, I did my best to set aside the frustration her questions provoked and took a few moments to try to educate.

I expressed that I eat meat because I grew up on a farm. I eat meat because I understand where my food comes from, how it's raised and under what conditions it's raised. I've been there from the beginning of their lives to the end. I understand that livestock are not pets, though they often have names, too, and I care a great deal for them and their welfare. I understand that my family was comprised of farmers, not gardeners.

It's becoming more and more apparent to me that farming and almost everything involved with it is a highly mystical occupation for the outside world. The characters in my hazy neighborhood that think they have an understanding of it seem to liken it to gardening, which brings me back to a great LA Times article that has one of my favorite sentiments I've come across this year: Agriculture is a business. Farming without a financial motive is gardening.

http://www.latimes.com/features/food/la-fo-calcook6-2010jan06,0,6888223.story

Rushing to the potty

Currently in recovery mode from my marathon week at World Dairy Expo in Madison last week, I'm starting to succumb to the usual post-Expo cold that always seems to take hold after the long days and late nights and changing weather that week always holds (along with great friends and spectacular cows). One encounter from the week still has me giggling. As usual one of the evenings last week I was sequestered in the lonely back hallway, behind the media room in the Alliant Energy Center, putting together the following day's Expo Daily Edition - the daily paper Agri-View creates for World Dairy Expo. The show always attracts a couple thousand international visitors, which can make for some interesting encounters and discussions regardless. One of these visitors, a Japanese businessman, came barrelling up the stairwell I was working in, looking sweaty and distressed.

Japanese businessman: "All doors locked. Must find the potty."

Me, with a sympathetic look, because we've all been there: "Follow me, I'll show you." I efficiently whisk him through the back hall of the building, which included a "tricky" move through a two-way elevator, a shortcut I was quite proud of, to the bathroom. I point to the men's bathroom.

Me: "There you go."

Japanese businessman looks at me quizzically and at the door I'm pointing to. He puts his hand on the door and peeks inside skeptically. He looks back at me. "No, I need to get to the party."

Me, blushing: "Oh, PARTY! That's downstairs..." He sees the stairs and dashes away from the crazy American girl in relief, seeing his route back to the event he had somehow gotten locked out of. As soon as he seemed to be out of earshot I burst out laughing at my complete misunderstanding. Oy.