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Politics : Rat's Nest - Chronicles of Collapse -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Wharf Rat who wrote (10177)	3/29/2010 11:31:13 AM
From: Wharf Rat	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 24225

The New Agriculture- A Revolution by Alan Wartes It is hardly possible to read the news these days without tripping over another story about scrappy city folk turning wasted space into lush gardens that produce astonishing amounts of nutritious food—vegetables, honey, eggs, goat cheese—you name it. Every day, greater numbers of ordinary people appear to be answering Sharon Astyk’s call for an army of new farmers to return to the land, wherever they can find it. In other words, this is no passing novelty. It is a movement springing up spontaneously all over the country that is quietly revolutionizing how we grow and share food; how we occupy the land where we live--(Yes, an urban neighborhood is "land")--how we define economic value; how we relate to each other in small, local communities whose shape and character are determined by common need; and how we think of "power", both political and economic. (Full disclosure: I am one of those new farmers. My family has recently launched New Leaf Gardens, a half-acre micro-farm within sight of downtown Denver.) The positive ripples that radiate outward from the simple act of taking back our food supply can't be overestimated. The centralization and globalization of everything--even the most basic necessities of life--is coming to a rapid and jarring end. Of that there is no doubt. The concentration of power and wealth in the hands of a tiny elite has finally reached its apex, having run into the same laws of physics and ecology that govern all complex systems. The capitalist empire was built on the assumption that technology (powered by fossil fuels) had rewritten the rules and made us different from previous imperial projects. We were wrong. The costs of this mistake are coming due, and the straining infrastructure of globalization is coming down. The forces making it so are as fundamental and inexorable as gravity. As in all moments of epic change, this historic passage is filled with both peril and promise. The dangers are very easy to imagine. So is the possibility of creating a better, saner way of life out of the ruins. We will either be crushed in the coming collapse, or we will build viable local alternatives to the failed paradigm now crumbling around us. It is that simple. Frankly, the outcome is uncertain. Even so, one thing is absolutely clear: Without food, all other questions are moot. There is a lot of work to do, but unless we localize the process of feeding ourselves again, we won't be in any position to do it. We will be vulnerable to distant disruptions in the insanely intricate chain of production and distribution. We will be equally vulnerable to tyrants (large and small, corporate and political) who promise to feed us in exchange for God only knows what. That is simply not acceptable. The good news is that the value of growing our own food doesn't end at the dinner table. We all decry the loss of community cohesion in our society, and many well-intentioned people have tried to do something about it. It turns out that food is one of the missing catalysts. It is the nucleus around which all sorts of vital community connections can and will form. In just a few short days of working in the New Leaf Gardens field--a highly visible spot in our neighborhood--we have met more of our neighbors than in the past six years of living together. They stop by to ask what we're up to. When we tell them we are turning this weed-choked vacant lot into a micro-farm, their eyes light up. They want to know how they can get a share of the produce. A diminutive elderly woman name Jeanie offered to drag her garden hose from her house across the street and help us water. (She also told us, with a mischievous grin, to watch out because she might just hop the fence one night and get a tomato or two.) George walks by every day with his backpack, on his way to the library. I've seen him many times before, but now I know that he suffers from Alzheimer's Disease and will not be here by the time the vegetables ripen--he has to go live with his daughter an hour away. Ray has seven daughters and is currently unemployed. He stopped to find out if we were hiring. Claudia and Vern take walks together nearly every day and look like aging hippies--but Claudia is just as likely to pull up on a three-wheel Harley Hog and holler at me to "rent a plow, for crying out loud." (Apparently she worries about my back as she watches us create such a large garden by hand.) Eric runs an advertising novelty business out of his house three doors down the road. He came by to find out what's up, and to tell us he used to play baseball in this field when he was kid. His wife is a "health nut" who currently drives many miles out of town to buy organic milk and meat. We told him about our produce CSA and he took a card. Every single one of these people lives within a two-block radius of New Leaf Gardens--and of our home only a block away. Every single one of them was as invisible as a ghost to us until we started digging in the dirt. Just wait until we have a monthly neighborhood potluck, or hold a harvest festival! Wait until we put up a "barter board" where people can come to connect the dots between what they have to offer and what their neighbors need. Wait for the gardening classes that will teach people to grow for themselves (and keep Jeanie from having to jump the fence for a tomato)! How about a documentary film series in the Valley Vista Methodist Church (from whom New Leaf Gardens has leased this land)? A weekly bicycle repair clinic? A food co-op to procure the things we can't grow? A minor medical clinic? (We can dream, can't we?) The list goes on and on, and where it leads is to the rebirth of this community as a place where people know each other, trade with each other, look out for each other. As that takes root, "globalization" will seem more and more like a weird Alice in Wonderland hallucination. As we come to our senses, we'll realize the scope of the lie we've been told about the so-called benefits of corporate capitalism. (Hint: It is a whopper!) I'm confident this little corner of the world, at least, will never be the same--all because of one half-acre garden. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Editorial Notes ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Alan Wartes is an urban farmer, beekeeper, poet, musician, and freelance writer. He lives in Denver, CO, where he and his family operate New Leaf Gardens (www.newleafgardens.org), a micro-farm that supplies fresh organic produce to local restaurants and neighbors. energybulletin.net