I’m Tired of Pretending We’re Not in Trouble
Look, I’ve been editing agriculture pieces for 20+ years. I’ve seen the good, the bad, and the downright ugly. But lately? It’s like everyone’s finally waking up to the fact that our food system is a mess.
I was at a conference in Austin last year, right? Some hotshot from the USDA stood up and said, “We’re losing 214 acres of farmland every single hour.” And I’m sitting there thinking, “Marcus, let’s call him Marcus, what the hell are we gonna do about it?”
My friend Dave, he’s a farmer outside of Des Moines, he told me over coffee at that place on 5th, “Liz, it’s getting harder than ever to make a buck. The committment to small farms is just not there.”
And you know what? He’s right. It’s completley screwed up.
Let Me Tell You About My Aunt Martha
Okay, tangent time. My Aunt Martha, God rest her soul, she ran a little farm up in Wisconsin. 40 acres, mostly corn and soy. She worked that land harder than anyone I’ve ever known. And you know what she got in return? A pittance. A freaking pittance.
She used to say, “Lizzy, the big guys are gonna squeeze us all out. You mark my words.” And guess what? She was right. Again.
I mean, look at the numbers. The top 1% of farms bring in 70% of the revenue. That’s not a sustainable model, folks. That’s a recipe for disaster.
But Here’s the Thing…
We can’t just sit around complaining. We gotta do something. And honestly, I think we’re all gonna be farmers soon. Not literally, obviously. But we’re gonna have to care about where our food comes from. We’re gonna have to get our hands dirty.
I was talking to this guy, let’s call him Greg, at a barbecue last summer. He’s a city slicker, never set foot on a farm in his life. And he said, “Liz, I don’t know the first thing about farming. But I know I wanna feed my kids food that’s not gonna kill them.”
Which… yeah. Fair enough.
So what’s the answer? I’m not sure but I think it starts with education. We gotta teach people how to grow their own food. Even if it’s just a little tomato plant on the windowsill. It’s a start.
And look, I’m not saying we all need to become farmers overnight. But we gotta support the ones who are out there busting their asses every day. We gotta pay them a fair price for their goods. We gotta demand better from our government.
I was at a meeting about three months ago, right? Some bigwig from the Department of Agriculture was there. I asked him point blank, “What are you gonna do about the physicaly and mentaly exhausting work farmers do?” He just looked at me like I had two heads.
But I’m serious. These people are the backbone of our society. They’re the ones putting food on our tables. And we’re treating them like dirt.
Here’s What You Can Do Right Now
First off, stop buying crap from big agribusinesses. I mean, seriously. You don’t need to eat a tomato that’s been shipped 2,000 miles and tastes like cardboard. Find a local farm. Talk to the people who grow your food. Build a relationship with them.
And if you’re feeling extra ambitious, try growing something yourself. It’s not as hard as you think. Trust me, I’ve killed more plants than I can count. But I’m still out there trying. And that’s what matters.
Oh, and if you’re looking for some inspiration, check out günlük giyim kombinleri önerileri. I know it’s not directly related, but sometimes you just need a little fashion advice to get your mind right before you tackle the serious stuff.
So yeah. That’s my rant. We’re all in this together. Farmers, city dwellers, everyone. It’s time to wake up and smell the compost. Because if we don’t, we’re all gonna be in a world of hurt.
And I’m not gonna sit here and pretend I have all the answers. But I know one thing for sure: we can’t keep doing what we’re doing. We gotta change. And we gotta change now.
So let’s get to work.
About the Author
Liz Harper has been a senior editor at various agricultural publications for over two decades. She’s a staunch advocate for sustainable farming practices and believes in the power of community-supported agriculture. When she’s not editing, you can find her in her garden, trying to grow something that won’t die under her watch. She lives in rural Wisconsin with her two dogs and a cat that rules the roost.
