American Flatbread - Waitsfield Vermont

As you may have heard, The Chicken Event has already produced promising change in local agriculture.

Click here for the article in The Times Argus.

Click here for an update on the Vermont Localvore effort.

Below, George's thoughts:

The Chicken Event: A Public Act of Civil Disobedience in Support of Local Agriculture

Why?
In the end, I came to realize how personal it all was. Maybe these kinds of things always are. Private ghosts, their long need to be free…

When I was a little boy, I worked and played on my aunt and uncle’s farm in northern Vermont. It was a small diversified family farm typical of the time: 20-30 milking cows, a pen of pigs, chickens in the yard, and a large vegetable garden. It was the farm my mother, her sisters, and brother had grown up on.

My aunt and uncle worked hard, went to church every Sunday, and, like almost all parents, loved their children dearly. There was always enough for everyone to eat, but in most other ways they were very poor. For us cousins growing up in the suburbs, their poverty was quite striking. My dad used to buy his sister-in-law 50 lb bags of flour “to help out,” and all of my outgrown clothes were packed up and sent to my younger cousins on the farm. The adults spoke in hushed words about my aunt and uncle’s difficulties. The conventional wisdom was that farming had changed, and that maybe, and maybe even probably, my aunt and uncle were not very good at it.

For all these years I have held the private thought that my aunt and uncle failed at farming.

I now know this is not true.

The food that came from their farm was wonderful. Milk from pastured cows called by name, eggs and meat from chickens that scratched in green grass under blue skies, poppin’ fresh sweet peas that us kids ate like M & M’s.

It wasn’t that my aunt and uncle failed at farming; it was that we failed them. The collective we—all of us.

A whole society simply stopped valuing farm fresh food. Our farmers were selling their eggs for 50 cents a dozen when the worth of a really good egg is closer to 50 cents each. Old-time farmers didn’t get much for their milk thought their milk was excellent.

It was as though we all stopped caring about our food. As long as the shelves in our stores were full, and the prices were low, and everything was clean and blemish-free, we didn’t care where it came from or how it was grown or processed.

Although government policy and the values of big business shaped the industrialization of American food after World War II, it was we, the consumers, through neglect and indifference, that gave permission for this change in agriculture.

Today, American food is at a new crossroads. We are rediscovering the joy of well-grown, well-raised foodstuffs. We are revaluing the role of food in our health, and we are better understanding the environmental implications of the various food production and delivery models. Increasingly, we are compelled to look honestly at our food stories: How was it grown? Where did it come from? What’s in it? What’s not? What of the farmer, the field hands, the drivers and cooks and the people who clean?

We are beginning to care again about our food stories and that creates a unique opportunity to re-imagine how we feed one another.

The change that I believe is needed will not come easily. We have lost a whole generation of farmers. We have lost a significant fraction of our land base. And there are substantial economic and political forces that would lead our food ever-deeper into the industrial food model. But the logic of local food cannot be denied. If not now, soon. If not soon, someday neighbors will feed one another. Their children will grow strong, their waters will run clean, their air blow fresh, and the people will be glad for it

And George's first paper:

Think of a farm and what image comes to mind? A house and barn surrounded by fields and woods. A few chickens in the yard, a big garden, a pen of pigs and a small herd of cows in the pasture. This, or something similar is what most of us think of because for about as long as we can remember this is what farms looked like. They called them family farms and they functioned within the content of nature and their communities. Although far from perfect and often difficult, at a fundamental level family farming produced both delicious and nutritious foods, conserved open space and were a durable foundation upon which democracy and civil society flourished.

That was food’s past. Today very little of our food comes from such places.

Beginning after the First World War and accelerating after the Second, small family farms gave way to large corporate organizations that to the greatest extent possible stripped the messy complexity of nature and humanity out of farming and replaced them with a streamlined industrial process. Petroleum based synthetic fertilizers took the place of on-farm manures and allowed for nutrient intensive hybrid seeds; pesticides supported monoculture cropping patterns; the routine use of antibiotics and growth hormones promoted high density feedlots and confinement rearing of animals; machines replaced people. More recently G.M.O.s, synthetic hormones and irradiation have further distanced food from its natural origins.

Food became a commodity: cheap, abundant, and seasonless. Flavor and nutritional integrity were sacrificed on the altar of price, appearance and convenience. In a mad scramble to survive, neighbors valued each other’s land more than their friendships. The significant environmental costs of this new system were discounted. The social costs were hardly considered. Farming lost it’s innocence.

The industrial transformation of the American food supply was not an evil solely of faceless self-serving corporations but was done with the encouragement and support of the federal and state governments and with the acquiescence of a disengaged public who saw food as little more than fuel and valued cheap, unblemished seasonless variety over all else. In a way, business and government gave us exactly the food we asked for. If we now find ourselves with a kind of thoughtless food it is because we have been thoughtless – and careless – about it.

Like so many systems of human design, industrial food swung past it’s point of equilibrium which gave rise to a counter response that came to be known as the organic food movement. Born in idealism, organic food began as small and personal expressions of a more sustainable and nurturing food production model. For many years the model existed at the margins of the national food supply. Starting about twenty years ago, however, organic food gained more public acceptance and began a steady rise to prominence. Today organic food is the fastest growing sector of the food industry – a fact that has not been lost on “Big Food” – the large, often multi-national corporations that control a great deal of what the world eats.

Ironically, though perhaps not surprisingly, organic’s success is now compromising its future. Now in the big time, organic’s production, processing, and distribution systems are mimicking its non-organic conventional counterparts.

Organic food is being industrialized

Large fields are all but mono-cultured; “Free-Range” poultry range on barn floors shared by 20,000 birds; labor conditions on vast irrigated fields in the American southwest echo those of conventional food. Hundreds of miles separate field from plate (the average piece of food in America travels 1500 miles). Over packaging and market hype are common. I think commercial organic food is better than its conventional counterpart, but it is only somewhat better.

American food is at a new crossroads. The industrial food model, be it conventional or organic, is failing us. With its long distances from farm to plate, it is failing our environment. With its reliance on some-place-else it is failing local and regional land bases. With its emphasis on “cheap at all costs” it is failing our farmers. With its concentrated processing plants, it is failing our safety. With its ever more exotic chemicals and processes exempt from labeling it is failing to be transparent. And with its problematic residues and narrow views of soil fertility it is failing our nutritional needs.

Food is important. What we eat and how it is grown intimately affects our health and the well being of the world.

Good, nutritious food is not a luxury. It is essential, and related to all that we hold dear.

What is needed, in my view, is a more local and regional perspective on food. “Localvore” as this cuisine has been called is based on the logic of eating locally.

I think the best food you can eat comes from your own garden. Following this would be food that is grown and raised on small farms in your area or region. CSA’s, farm stands, and farmers markets are great sources of these foods.

One of the peculiarities of food is that it does not scale well, that is it is hard to maintain food quality and integrity with ever increasing volumes.

In the same way there is a difference between a batch of Grandma’s homemade cookies and cookies that are churned out 10,000 an hour in some distant factory. There is also a difference between vegetables from a five-acre plot and those from a 5,000-acre corporate farm. And there is a difference between milk and milk products that come from a small herd of animals who pasture outdoors and are called in by name and a 3,000 head herd confined 24/7 to a concrete barn.

If we are to have better food, the kind we truly need, we need better farming. The solution is not a few mega farms; it is many small successful farms. Many farms imply many farmers. Currently less than 1% of Americans make their living in agriculture. Never before have so few tried to feed so many. How did this happen? It’s simple really: People stopped farming because farming stopped paying.

And this is where you and I come in.

There are people willing to farm if only they felt confident there would be buyers of their work.

We are their customers.

If we truly want to have better, cleaner food, if we want to help conserve open areas and agricultural land bases, if we want to lessen the environmental footprint of our food supply, if we care about the dignity of our neighbors who farm –

By getting more money into local farmers pockets we will make local farming more viable. And while we’re at it…

Give ‘em a wave and smile and say thanks
Don’t quibble about the price – good local food is always worth it
Advocate for public institutions to buy Vermont food
Ask your favorite markets and restaurants to carry more local foods
Join a CSA. Take seriously the farmers markets and farm stands.
And finally, ask your elected officials to review policies and regulations that do not protect organic farmers from G.M.O. pollen drift and that restrict or prohibit farmer’s rights to sell directly to the public.

To this last point there are many regulations that restrict Farm-Gate (farmer to public) sales. Most of these regulations revolve around animal products (raw milk and meat) and are couched in the language of public health and safety. Upon closer inspection however these concerns are antiquated, not scientifically based and inconsistent. The rules are slanted against small farmers and they are more properly understood as crutches for the industrial food model.

Farming is a tremendously hard way to make a living and it is shameful that small farmers are yoked to such burdensome rules. Although there are ways around the rules they all ultimately are illegal and therefore criminalize the very people who are responsible for some of the most interesting, flavorful, nutritious and sustainable food produced in Vermont. This is fundamentally wrong. Far from being criminal, the work of our farmers is noble and deserving of our highest praise and respect.

Over the past several years’ well-intentioned and reasonable citizens have petitioned state government for Farm-Gate relief without success. Further, with disregard for the will of the Vermont Senate and House, the Governor has vetoed the Farmer Protection Act which would have held responsible the corporate manufacturers of G.M.O. seeds for any damage or trespass G.M.O. pollen might inflict on non-G.M.O. fields – for these reasons, and at risk to our financial security personal liberty, American Flatbread will openly and publicly serve chicken raised and farm processed by our neighbor and friend Hadley Gaylord. The “Chicken Event” will be a special bake on Friday June 16, 2006. During the evening two short films will be shown at The Inn at Lareau Farm and at 7:30 noted Vermont farmer Doug Flack will speak. All are welcome.

American Flatbread is committed to the rule of law and to responsible citizenship. When government promulgates laws that do not serve the public interest it is the obligation and responsibility of the citizens to promote constructive change. The purpose of this public act of civil disobedience in support of local agriculture is to support our neighbor, to offer the most sustainably produced food to our customers we are able, and to stimulate a conversation in our community and across our state about our food stories: Where did it come from? How was it grown, and by whom? How was it stored or processed? What’s in it? What’s not? And maybe most importantly, what of the future of our food?

For more information about how to support or access local foods go to www.vermontlocalvore.org or join the Mad River Valley Localvore chapter.

This letter was written with the encouragement of many though I alone am responsible for its content. I know that there are some who worry for the well being of Flatbread or for their own reputations. Please know I worry too. I fear regulatory sanctions, public ridicule, and/or financial ruin (though I think all of these possibilities are remote). But more than these I fear a thoughtless acceptance of a food system that is not serving us well and surely will not well serve our children. Thank you.