Agriculture & Ecology
Libby Reed
I sit here in the beginning of March, the sun is shining and it is a cool 28 degrees outside. The mole hills have flat towers of ice pushing skyward. Cool weather has conjured moisture up from saturated soil to stand it at attention in the sunlight for a few hours, it is spectacular. Nature’s beauty, strength and quiet ferocity is commanding. It is one of the things that drew me to food production in the first place.
As someone who often felt less alone in the woods than I did in a room full of people nature has always been a touchstone of sorts for me. Even in the East Bay suburbs of Northern California, my family and the experiences they provided instilled in me a deep love of and respect for nature. But the beauty and ruggedness of the west coast, the old, gnarled live oaks on brown summer hillsides, and steep ravines covered with blackberry and scurrying quail could not hide the imbalances that I saw growing up. I was born the year after the 1973 oil crisis, grew up in the age of ozone depletion and the first public warnings of global warming, California drought and water rationing (1986-1992), and the Oakland Firestorm/Tunnel Fire (1991) at the tail end of the drought. The impact of human intervention on the natural landscape was inescapable. From the car I watched conventional farmland roll by driving south from the Bay Area to Los Angeles, east through Sacramento on the way to Lake Tahoe, and north towards Mendocino. While I didn’t grow up with a direct connection to agriculture, it is everywhere in California and I was luckier than most to have proximity to fields where I could see things like vegetables, strawberries, grapes, garlic and almonds growing.
Decades on, I’ve cultivated that interest and continued learning more about how and why we eat the way we do. The global food system and U.S. industrialized agriculture is an industry fueled by capitalism’s appetite for profit and yield at the expense of all else. This kind of food production relies on chemicals instead of natural systems or biology. It is based on extraction without permission or consequence and ignores the welfare of people and places, including the farmers owners and workers that manage the land. The question I’ve asked myself for years is: If our food system is broken, then how do we fix it? Teasing out the answers to that question is how I started growing food in the first place.
In the intervening decades, I’ve come to understand that the path to a new food system is rooted in both ecology and agriculture and is based on systems that not only lift up our planet but all of us living beings that reside here. And so I thought I’d share a wonderful opinion piece in Civil Eats I recently read that quite beautifully untangles the hurdles that systems change in food production currently faces and talks about agroecology as a solution to the food system that is failing us. It provides perspective to us as consumers and participants in the food system, wherever we sit.
https://civileats.com/2022/03/04/op-ed-evidence-agroecology-transform-food-system-justice-sovereignty/