Who Is A Farmer?

I have a Master’s in Communication (my B.A. too), which means I’ve spent years studying, describing, and then theorizing on all things related to how we individuals communicate with ourselves, each other, our community, and the world as a whole. I love EVERYTHING about communication and language and if I wasn’t so jaded on how my post grad degree was applied in the career I had pined for and ultimately received then lost, I would have gotten my doctorate. But I digress and that story I’ll save for another blog; or not. But it was in one of my graduate classes that I saw first hand how someone could have it so wrong about who is a farmer.

I don’t even remember what class it was but we spent what felt like the entire semester analyzing commercials. I remember the commercial and the professors take of it, and many of us students were wondering why he was so fired up about it. He was angry actually, almost outraged. It was a Ford truck commercial and the actors in it were the actual farmers. It was a father and son walking the fields and leaning against the back of the truck. My professor said there was “no way they are the actual farmers, look at their clothes and how clean the truck is!” I of course was super confused, as were others. Why did my professor equate a clean outfit and a clean truck for the farmers insincerity of being who they said they were? An interesting part of this scenario was my professor had no idea I was a pot farmer. No one knew actually. I come from a time where you never shared with anyone that you grew weed and I was always the “stay at home mom” and Craig did “construction.”

Even though legalization had the masses celebrating, those of us that spent years prior to legalization in the actual “industry” (it’s not an industry but a way of life) certainly didn’t advertise it. So I found it bewildering and then amusing to see him almost frothing at the mouth, so incredulous at “these people” posing as farmers. So then what would he make of me? What would anyone make of me really if I said I was a farmer? Does growing weed mean you’re not a farmer? Is there a certain outfit or vehicle, a certain way of looking and or being that defines who is a farmer?

There have been quite a few instances before and after legalization that have brought this question again and again to the forefront of my mind and life. I’ve been working next to my husband in the mountains since the early 2000’s and we’ve talked (at times I’ve argued) about my role in growing weed; what feels right, what doesn’t, and the overall misogynistic environment I’ve found myself in within the culture of weed in Southern Humboldt. Post legalization has expanded this work beyond our homestead and into the greater community where conversations still continue to defer and or outright deny my part in it, as I’m not an actual farmer; my husband is. But I’m not going to spend much time in this blog blah blah blahing about the misogynistic culture we women live and survive, because 1) everything that can be said about it has already been said, 2) there are millions of men who are not misogynistic and 3) I choose to think about other things. But I will dissect the question of “who is a farmer” for my own learning and writing purposes because it’s fun to figure things out. And since I too would like to know, I’ll do a bit of research (both academically and introspectively) and see where this goes.

According to both the Oxford and Cambridge dictionaries, a farmer is a “person who owns or manages a farm,” while the Merriam Webster dictionary defines a farmer as a “person who cultivates land or crops or raises animals (such as livestock or fish).” I asked my husband to define what a farmer was to him and he said “someone whose livelihood depends on a crop.” So then this is different from a gardener right? The same dictionaries define a gardener as someone who “takes care of a garden either as a hobby or as a regular job,”or “one employed to care for the gardens or grounds of a home, business concern, or a person who tends and cultivates a garden as a pastime or for a living.” All these definitions adequately define what it is I have been doing for these last two decades.

I’ve been living and tending to gardens on my off the grid 60 acre homestead in the mountains for both pleasure and profit for about 23 years. So then why do others (and honestly, myself at times) question the legitimacy of my claim? I mean, I own the land, the business, I pay the taxes, pop the seeds and starts, prep the soil, build compost, dig the holes, plant the plants, water, amend, harvest, process, and sell; herbs, vegetables, fruit, and weed. Craig decides what cultivars for each season (sometimes there are dozens) and pulls the tarps for dep (I help if he needs it but I’m usually too cozy inside or in bed and he’s the kind of man and husband who would never dream of asking a woman, let alone his wife and mother of his children to go outside at night with a flashlight, climb a tall later and pull a tarp as heavy as a beached whale, though I’ve been known to do it because when it needs to get done it will get done).

Try as I might, I’m not really into the nuanced parts of farming (or whatever it is I claim I’m doing) because in truth I find it kind of boring and my husband is so steady and strong and I’m usually thinking about the butterfly that’s bouncing of the flowers, or that I should get some gloves from the barn because I’m getting splinters from the shovel handle, and what time is my daughter coming home, and did I flip the laundry, and dinner will be chicken with rice and veggies, oh and we need half and half, and oh my gosh I’m so excited to read my new book I got from the library after dinner, and what do I need for work in the city this weekend, and I’ll be done with those pounds for transport Thursday, and “yes Craig? Yes, I’ll go water up at Big Flat, and yes, I’ll turn the solar pump on…now which one is that?”

 I’m not sure if this train of thoughts negates my “farmerness” but I think other people who work and love the land for their pleasure and income think of other things when they are under the sun from dawn to dusk. I can assure you (or is it me in this diary-like months blog that I’m trying to assure?) that I can concentrate whole heartedly at tasks at hand and tiny details of both present and future responsibilities and have the aforementioned degrees and others to prove it. But why do I need to prove it? And to who exactly? I’ve been around weed (cannabis) for decades and it’s so normal to me that I forget it isn’t for most people and talking to and or teaching others about what we do is like trying to teach someone intuition and tenacity. I mean you just know things by knowing them and farming is something you learn from years on the land. Plus I really really really look forward to talking about other things, anything really, outside the realm of weed because it’s usually all my husband and my Humboldt community talk about.

I’ve seen cannabis farmers tell me everything about a cultivar, its lineage, the structure, how it’s grown, the taste, smell, etc, and then not be able to change the hose clamp on a water line. I’ve been around farmers who can barely form a proper sentence who cultivate the most serene and stable environments that hum in perfect tune with nature. I’ve seen seasonal workers more adept with a weed whacker, chainsaw, and fence building skills than the guy who runs the show, and I personally know the long time barefoot homesteader who was responsible for the 1979 drop most people in the industry would walk right past. When I hire someone who says they have farming experience I use nonverbal cues to clue me in and if they show up in a long sleeved button down, jeans and boots it’s usually a sign we’re on the same page (but in all honesty one of my best employees was most often barefoot in a bikini and that woman is still farming all these years later for someone else and has since included a sun hat with her scant ensemble ).

Most farmers I know shower after a day’s work or when they head to town (unless it’s a dump run day because lets be for real) and in all honestly when I’m not working I do clean up well. And since Craig and I have been successful in the transition from being pot growers to cannabis farmers we’ve had LOTS of media, and 9 times out of 10 we put on something cute and clean for the photo ops. Does that not make me a farmer?

I remember years ago I had just finished mowing the lawn and I had showered and put on these flowy pants and a tank top and rode my bike to pick up my two daughters from school (I have a baby blue beach cruiser and my oldest would ride on back and my youngest up front and down the sidewalk we’d fly from school free as the wind until an email was sent to all the parents of JCS talking about bike safety and wearing helmets). I sat on the bench waiting for the kids to get done playing and I was talking with the playground attendees and sharing I had just finished mowing the lawn and the guy said “you don’t look like a woman who would mow a lawn” and I was thinking to myself “what does a woman who would mow a lawn look like?” And it really stuck with me because it was seriously so interesting. As I shared earlier, I am fascinated at all the how’s and why’s of our ways of communicating and where exactly do such statements come from? And clearly after my grad school commercial incident, I can no longer claim its misogyny because my male professor made the same statement about a father and son. And all I claimed to do was mow my lawn! I can only imagine his disbelief if he knew about my other life, you know the one outside the flowy pants, tank top and beach cruiser?

Farmers come in all shapes, sizes, sexes, colors, classes, and cultures. THIS IS A FACT. There is no one size fits all and the only thing we all have in common is our love for our land and our unyielding hope of a successful harvest. We all have opinions, preconceived notions, and prejudices around most matters in life, but what perhaps intrigues me the most are how people choose to communicate them. I’ve been in this business and way of life for a good amount of time now, and whether it be a solitary farmer, mom and pops, family farm, monocropping, market gardening, craft cannabis, acreage, square footage, done in a swimsuit or overalls, it’s important for YOU TO BE YOU. There are undoubtedly threads of similarity woven into the fabric of us who attend and move with the land in this intimate way. But we are as diverse as the climate and the crops therein. So what have I learned in my short quest on this blogs big question of who is a farmer? You perhaps? But certainly me.