Skill Sets

I was cleaning out a closet today, and I found a yearbook from the first year I taught as a "real" teacher, back in 1991. I spent a pleasant few minutes remembering my students and wondering what they were doing now. It was a terrific class and an exciting year. As a computer-themed magnet school, we were under a mandate to have every child in our classroom spend at least half of the day using a computer. Schools are designed to provide students with a set of skills that would make them successful in their future; in this case, end user and programming skills for a technology-rich society.

In what may seem at first to be a completely unrelated thought, I am reading a series of books by S. M. Stirling, set in an alternate present in which technology has mysteriously ceased to work. In this set of books, those who survive are those most adaptable, and also those who have the knowledge to raise and preserve food and build shelter.

Obviously, Stirling is writing fiction. It's highly unlikely that we will wake up tomorrow and find ourselves in his Emberverse. But we do live in a society that desperately needs to change. If we do not alter our habits voluntarily now, it is conceivable that our children and their children will find themselves with no options.

Global warming and climate change is a reality. According to the National Sustainable Agriculture Information Service, produce travels between 1,200 to 2,000 miles from farm to plate. The pollutants and greenhouse gas emissions created by the transport of food is huge: the Natural Resources Defense Council provides these figures:

• Almost 250,000 tons of global warming gases released were attributable to imports of food products— the equivalent amount of pollution produced by more than 40,000 vehicles on the road or nearly two power plants.
• More than 6,000 tons of smog-forming nitrogen oxides were released into the air—the equivalent of almost 1.5 million vehicles or 263 power plants!
• 300 tons of sooty particulate matter were released into the air—the equivalent of more than 1.2 million cars or 53 power plants.
  

In addition to concerns about the carbon footprint resulting from massive food transportation, there is concern about what the disruption of food supply lines could mean. According to a survey published by North Carolina State University, Food From Our Changing World, 85% of the people surveyed felt that food supply was of great concern as target for terrorist attacks.

copyright W.M. Jessee, 2009

And what about Nature Deficit Disorder? In a Salon interview with Richard Louv about his book Last Child in the Woods, Sarah Karnasiewicz says

Louv argues that sensationalist media coverage and paranoid parents have literally "scared children straight out of the woods and fields," while promoting a litigious culture of fear that favors "safe" regimented sports over imaginative play. Well-meaning elementary school curricula may teach students everything there is to know about the Amazon rain forest's endangered species, but do little to encourage kids' personal relationship with the world outside their own doors. And advances in technology, while opening up a wealth of "virtual" experiences to the young, have made it easier and easier for children to spend less time outside.

I can see evidence of that, even here in semi-rural Pennsylvania. While we have a number of parks for use, the only undeveloped free play area, not taken over by ball fields is in the dog park, where patrons are asked not to bring children under 10.

Later in the interview, Louv says:

But the hyper-awareness gained from early experience in nature may be the flip side of hyper-vigilance; a positive way to pay attention, and, when it's appropriate, to be on guard. We're familiar with the term "street smart." Perhaps another, wider, adaptive intelligence is available to the young? Call it "nature smart." One father I spoke to said he believes that a child in nature is required to make decisions not often encountered in a more constricted, planned environment -- ones that not only present danger, but opportunity. Organized sports, with its finite set of rules, is said to build character. If that is true, and of course it can be, nature experience must do the same, in ways we do not fully understand. A natural environment is far more complex than any playing field. Nature does offer rules and risk, and subtly informs all the senses.

Finally, there is our planned obsolescence mindset, hand in hand with the heavy use of plastics in manufacture. It is rare to repair broken items any more, it is simpler and cheaper often to discard them and buy another.

It's not just children who are losing basic survival skills. When we first moved to this area, I almost had a stroke while riding in a car with a Real Estate agent. We were on our way to look at a house, driving down a rural road. She said "I wish these farmers would sell off the land next to the roads for development. What do they need it for?" Obviously she had a shaky concept about the relationship between farmers and food. Girl Scout Councils across the country organize badge days where girls earn sewing or cooking badges because many leaders don't know how to sew or cook.

So- what skills do our children need? No one is arguing against providing them with technology skills, but should they also be able to plant a garden, grow a tomato in a pot or fix something that is broken?

Change

I hope that I am never too old to learn new things about myself, even if they are uncomfortable to think about.

Had you asked me, 5 or 6 years ago, if I was actively protecting the environment, I would have assured you that yes, indeed, I was. We gardened, we composted, we didn't litter. No fur, no ivory, no teak or mahogany. When we bought new appliances, we got energy saving ones. In the summer we mostly grilled, so as not to turn on the oven, and in the winter we kept the thermostat turned down. I mean, we were old hippies, with subscriptions to Mother Earth News! Of course we were environmental. We were part of the solution.

Then I was introduced to Colin Beavan's blog, No Impact Man, and from that I found Riot 4 Austerity. I began to realize that we were, indeed, part of the problem. Granted, these blogs represent extreme examples of environmentalism, but they gave me a lot to think about. Things that were uncomfortable. I realized that while I was environmental in theory, laziness and ignorance were keeping me from practice. Once I realized I was faking it, I was able to change things so we were making a real difference. I realigned my activism with my core values.

This morning I read a post at The Green Phone Booth that caused me to think about those core values regarding environmentalism The author, known as the Green Raven, ends her post by saying "How about you? How much has "religious" thinking—be it God-centered or non-theistic ethical thought—inspired you to feel responsible for the earth and its inhabitants? Does your spiritual practice reinforce your commitments? How much has it motivated you to act"

Raven's post reminded me of a couple of books that were fundamental in helping me crystallize a plan about how I wanted to live on this earth. Both are cookbooks, commissioned by the Mennonite Central Committee.

Years ago, probably 25 or more, I bought a cookbook from a food coop where we chopped. It was called More With Less, and focused on frugal living and whole foods. My copy is battered and worn- I have used it a lot. I bought copies to give to at least two of my sisters.

Even the rabbit enjoyed the cookbook, as evidenced by the missing corners. When we moved here to Central Pennsylvania, I was amused to find contributed recipes from women with familiar names- we live in the midst of a large Plain community and many of the recipes came from towns close by.






More With Less was a good cookbook, but not life changing. However, the sister publications Extending the Table and Simply in Season ARE life changing books. The recipes are good, but for me, the most important part are the comments from recipe contributors. Read for pleasure, these glimpses into other lives illuminate and inform.


For example, on page 166 of Simply In Season, under a recipe for Vegetable Pizza Bites, you find this:
"A crop of healthy children. For us as CSA farmers, having direct contact with our customers is incredibly meaningful and rewarding. We learn so to know many of their favorite vegetables and often have specific people in mind when we are planting or tending a crop.
"It's a pleasant surprise to find that many people, especially those with young children, will spend hours at the farm when they come to pick up their produce. They'll sit in the shade, swing on the rope swing and pick basil until their fingers are pungent.
"From year to year we get to see the children of our returning customers grow up and we have a sense of privilege in knowing that our vegetables are helping their bodies grow strong and healthy. This feeling is especially keen as we watch expectant mothers select their vegetables and know that we are contributing to the health of their growing babies."
Jon and Beth Weaver-Kreider, Goldfinch Farm CSA, York, PA


I was wary at first about Extending The Table- I don't have much use for missionaries. In my mind, missionaries are always dressed in clothing inappropriate to the climate, frowning and insisting that the poor pagans need to adopt modern Western ways. I was so humbled by the stories and descriptions included in this book- it was so respectful of the people and their lives. On page 94, I read this "Mbodangaaku, the tradition of the Wodaabe, is the way we hold hands with one another. This is the way we feel attached to each other.

"Mbodangaaku is the only wealth of the Wodaabe. It is their true wealth. When we go to the villages of the sedantary people, we are hungry and thirsty because no one gives us anything without money. But when we travel in the bush, wherever there is a Wodaabe camp, we are at home.

"When someone comes to your camp, it is because of the tradition of Mbodangaaku that you welcome him. You take a mat for him to the west of your camp. You take him water to drink. You light a fire for him even if it is not cold. You take him food.

"Even if you yourself do not like your guest, when his foot comes to your camp, you go to welcome him as if he were your God. The proverb says "Your guest is your God!" Bodaado man of the nomadic Wodaabe tribe of Niger.

As much as that subscription to Mother Earth News, these cookbooks affected the way I see and interact with the world. This time, instead of buying copies for my sisters, I bought them for my children and their families. I hope they find as much benefit as I did.

We're being Cheated!

When you go to the grocery store, how many kinds of eggplant can you find? There's the deep purple one that everyone recognizes, perhaps the long, thin lighter purple asian eggplants. If you are really lucky, and shop at a "fancy" store, you might find white eggplants, smaller than the "regular" kind. At a farmers market during growing season, especially in an upscale area, you might be able to find Rosa Bianco, with lovely lavender swirls on a white background. But that's about it, at least in the places where I shop.

Well, if this what you know of eggplants, let me tell you, you don't know nothin'!

I just got my hard copy of the Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds 2007 catalog, and I am in awe. Jere Gettle, Baker Creek's founder, lists 39 kinds of eggplant. Thirty Nine! Seven pages of different kind of melons, not including watermelons, and 25 varieties of cucumbers! Not to mention the six pages of winter squash, and the tomatoes broken down in to color categories- green, orange, pink, purple, red, striped, yellow and even white.

My jaw dropped; I was amazed. And as I thought about the variety of foods available at my local grocery store, the main thought running through my mind was "I've been cheated!" (Or maybe it was "I'm BEING Cheated!") Even in the best, fanciest, yuppiest grocery store you don't find this sort of variety in the produce section. So here we sit, eating the same 5 or 6 vegetables- corn, green beans, broccoli, lettuce. Wow, I'm hard pressed to think of others. Spinach, maybe? Carrots? This sparsity of veggies is perpetuated; we end up feeding our children the same few things. Why, when there are so many lovely things to eat in the world?

Transportation, for the most part, is the culprit. We get to eat those things that tranport well. The average dinner travels over 1500 miles "from field to fork" , so we are limited to eating things that can be picked green and travel well. By and large, being picked green and transporting well doesn't equal tasting good.

Fear is another reason- we are afraid we won't like the taste of something, or that we won't know how to prepare it. We pass that on to our kids too, feeding them special "kid friendly foods" and teaching them that they really shouldn't be expected to like anything they have never had before.

How can we fix it? First, by eating local. If you can't garden, join a CSA (Community Sposored Agriculture). Find one near you at Local Harvest or The Eat Well Guide or The National Sustainable Agriculture Information Service. If there are no CSA's near you, try a farmers market. It's a fun Saturday trip.

Second, be willing to experiment. I had collards and kale for the first time this year, because they were in my CSA share- I LOVED them! We tried celeriac for the first time, too, same reason. If it's in your CSA box and you have already paid for it, what a great incentive to try it at least once. At the farmers market, ask the farmer, chances are she will have some recipes or cooking suggestions. Or use the Force, er, the Internet. You can find a recipe for anything there. Of course, if you are reading food blogs, you are probably already an adventerous eater, and I'm preaching to the choir here!

By the way, there are places in your grocery store where you can find diversity- among the processed foods. The cereal aisle, the chip aisle, the soda aisle. Isn't it pitiful that we have so much choice amongst the manufactured food (Typically made from corn and wheat, plus a big slug of preservatives and artificial colors) and so little choice amongst the real foods?

Well, I've placed my seed order. I did have a problem related to the number of varieties available, though- I had a hard time choosing only the amount I can fit in my garden. Oh, well, I have long tried to convince my husband that the front lawn is wasted space- perhaps this is the year I'll put a new garden in out there. Then you'll be able to identify my house- I'll be the one with 39 eggplants instead of bluegrass.

Carnivore?

Tomorrow we are getting a lamb. And that is something about which I have mixed feelings.

This morning, when the sun came up, this lamb was out in the field, thinking sheepy thoughts, looking for edibles in the snow. By now, dinner time, it is no longer alive, and on Saturday, it will be in my freezer as chops, roasts and ribs. That is an awesome realization, that this lamb is no longer alive simply because I like to eat lamb chops.

All of my sisters are vegetarians, and they chant “No food with a face.” I understand why they chose that path, and was, in fact, a vegetarian for several years. Pregnant with my first child, however, inexplicable cravings for Sonic’s chili cheese coneys brought an abrupt end to that, and since then I have been a carnivore. And besides, as I have pointed out to my sisters, if everyone was a vegetarian, then cows and pigs would become extinct.

But I feel that eating meat carries an enormous responsibility. I have to understand that I am responsible for the death of this animal. And equally, I am responsible for the life of the animal, as well.

Recently I read an article that voiced my feelings about this exactly. Why I Farm, by Bryan Welch, was published in the February/March issue of Mother Earth News, p. 78. In it he says “People often ask ‘How can you eat your own animals?’ Sometimes it’s a sincere question, meant to explore the emotions associated with raising your own meat. But often it’s more of an accusation, as in ‘How can you be so callous?’ So in response I might ask ‘How can you be so cruel as to eat animals without knowing them? Without knowing how they lived? Without making sure they were treated kindly and with respect?’”

A paragraph later, he says “I don’t mean to suggest that everyone should raise their own meat. But it’s perverse, isn’t it, that many people in our society seem to consider it more civilized to eat animals they don’t know? Meanwhile, industrial agriculture treats meat animals as nothing more than cogs in the machine, without regard for their happiness or basic well being.

“There’s a Buddhist wisdom in the stockman’s cool compassion. The best of them seem to understand that our own lives on this Earth are as irrefutably temporary as the lives of the animals, and that we should provide as much simple comfort and dignity to our fellow creatures as we can. After all, aren’t simple comfort and dignity among the most important things we wish for ourselves and our children?”

When I read this article, I wanted to shout “Yeah! What he said.” If I am going to eat an animal, I have to respect its life. And yet, I don’t raise my own meat. Despite living within walking distance of working farms, the covenant for my subdivision rules out farm animals. Since that is the case, I take another approach.

I’ve always been a great proponent of “voting with my dollar.” Shopping and the purchases I make are political statements for me, and the money I spend stands behind my beliefs. To that end, as much as possible, we purchase meat that has been raised locally. Sometimes we buy at the local 4H auction, other times we buy from local farmers who share our philosophy. Our lamb will be coming from an Amishman who milks the sheep and makes artisan cheese; our pork is raised by his son. We are currently eating beef raised by a local high school boy, who used the money he got from the auction to buy a car. We have the option of visiting the animals, of seeing them living out their lives before they end up on our plates. We are voting against factory farming.

The consequences of this have been greater than I expected, and in fact changed more than the way we eat at home. Eating out has become very different. We eat next to no fast food, we eat very little meat in restaurants, and in fact, we don’t eat out often. Lunchmeats are a rarity, purchased perhaps 4 times a year. Meal planning takes more, well, planning than it did when we could pick up a bucket of KFC and head home for dinner. And the meat we purchase tends to be more expensive than supermarket meat, so we eat less.

I am not perfect at this- we do still eat meat out occasionally; I still crave an occasional chili-cheese coney or Supersonic burger. I’m not at all sure that, given the opportunity, I am in a place where I could raise my own meat. But I feel that I am eating consciously, responsibly, and very well.

Pigs waiting to be shown at the 4H auction