Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Notes from the Heartland




“You’re raising that stalk from a seed to maturity in 120 days. The time you get the stalk up there and you get the ear on, you’re done. You usually around here, you can start growing if everything’s right around the first of April.  Usually, it’s best to wait till the 15th, and the 20th is better. The earlier you get it in the better off you are. You want to get it in as the spring is advancing to summer, as the days get longer.”

“If I could plant all my corn on the 20th of April, I’d be tickled to death.   But you can’t always do that because of the rain.  You can plant corn up until June and some people plant as late as July. But you have to have so many degree units, so many heat degree units to mature a crop, and the sun and the moon have a lot to do with how the crop grows, how it germinates and grows and pollinates, and all that. “ 

 “As the season goes on, the dominant ear will suck all the energy out of the less dominant ear, and make a big one.  If you have the one ear standing all by itself, if he’s only got 16 rows on it, and the second one has 16 rows, you’ll have two nice ears.  Rarely can you have three ears since we plant it so thick anymore. There is always an even number of rows on an ear of corn. 12 to 24 rows.  Normally, 14 to 16 rows.  It’s all dependent on the weather.”

My daughter’s grandfather, Richard, is a 75-year-old farmer from Blandinsville, a town in western Illinois. A college graduate with a degree in agriculture, he has been farming 138 acres of land since he was a boy, growing primarily corn, soy, and alfalfa.  He has raised hogs, sheep, and cattle, but he no longer raises animals, as they require too much physical labor.  He rents most of his land from the same family his father struck an initial deal with in the depression.  The terms are the same; they profit share 50-50, a pretty sweet deal for the landowner.  He owns about 50 acres outright and rents them to another farmer.

This is the second visit we’ve made to see this family, and as we tool around in large pick-up truck, Dick tells us all about farming the land, the history of both the area and his family. He can trace his genealogy back seven or eight generations.

My wife and daughter think I’m a bit crazy, as I listen intently, and ask all kinds of questions about farming.  I’m not sure why it interests me so much.  At home I dutifully water a few plants and try to eat local organically produced food as much as possible. The level of specificity about growing crops that Dick goes into captivates me.  That and the fact that farmers like him are both an American tradition and sadly, a dying breed. 

According to Department of Agriculture statistics, there are about 2 million farms today, down from 6.8 million in 1935.  39% of the U.S population in 1900 lived on farms; today, only 2% of Americans live on farms. There isn’t less farming actually taking place; rather, farming is dominated by big agribusiness, food processing conglomerates, and big seed companies like Monsanto.

Dick explains that there are no jobs in the area. Young people just leave, and young families no longer farm in the area. Most of the schools have consolidated, and several have been closed and torn down.  “That used to be a school,” Dick tells us pointing to a field of mowed green grass.  He shows us similar former school sites in about 3 or 4 small towns we drive through. The population of Blandinsville is only 800 people, mostly older adults. The downtown area is about 2 blocks long; there are 2 cafes, a bar, a law office, a few churches, and several empty storefronts, a few of which are filled with rural debris covered in dust.

My recent trip to the Corn Belt has made me think more deeply about agricultural sustainability, and what is happening to people in rural communities.  I don’t talk farm politics with Dick, but as I listen to him, I read between the rows, so to speak.

There are fields of green for miles around; but we see no people. We pass Star Wars like pieces of huge farm equipment that have very specialized functions.  GPS is now used to plant the fields, eliminating the need for markers and human operators to distribute seeds. 

Monsanto produces about 90% of all GMO seeds, genetically modified to produce their own pesticides. These GMOs are designed to increase profits, not yields; Monsanto contractually locks in farmers who must buy their high-priced, patented seeds.  They sell more toxic chemicals to farmers, whose crops become increasingly herbicide-resistant; the topsoil, full of these chemicals, is eroding, and the water quality is dangerously declining. It is a vicious cycle.  Add to this, a litany of social problems including low pay, unsafe working conditions, and immigration concerns. The summer program for migrant school children that my daughter’s aunt teaches at in Mendota, Illinois, was cut back this year.  She is helping fewer kids for a shorter amount of time. 

My head is spinning, as Dick keeps driving and talking.

John Eckard, in his article “Small Farms: The Foundation for Long-Run Food Security, writes:

“We don’t need a lot of data, facts, or figures to understand what is happening to American agriculture; it’s just plain common sense.  In making agriculture more efficient, we have chosen industrial technologies and methods, which have resulted in fewer, larger farming operations, and now, in corporate control of agriculture.  In the process, we have lost both the security of our farms and the food security of our nation.“

Wendell Berry, farmer/writer/activist observed, “Eating is an agricultural act.” Writer/activist Michael Pollan, in his numerous books and speeches, notes that we must make the connection between eating and the way we grow our food.  Says Pollan, “When people are more conscious about their food choices, they can change the food chain. They can change what happens on the farm.”

As I return from the heartland, I take these words to heart. I hope for a revival of “real” farming, the kind that Dick and his family used to do. In the meantime, I am going to engage in a political act, and go eat some lunch.




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