by Casey McAuliffe
I don’t find the farming life necessarily noble.
There are farmers who are noble, yes. And there are also farmers who are not noble. Noble plumbers and dental hygienists abound as well. Possibly the virtue lies in the person, not the profession.
Yet it seems that most of the articles and internet blurbs that enter my awareness lately tout this nobility of the farmer—lauding their sacred duty and whispering of their monk-like reverence to land and beast. The more skeptical potshots I’ve read take this view too, only adding more italicized irony. Providing the good public with club-sized daikon radishes–although organic! and fresh!–might not be the preferred face of nobility.
“So I just gotta say, “Y’all, farming isn’t noble.””
What I do believe to be true is that many of the folks whose attraction to said ideas of integrity and goodness are the same ones who find them working outside, raising animals and planning harvests. Whether they do it on 3 acres or 3,000 these people usually have at least that in common.
That, and the same sun-in-your-eyes squint.
Do any of those beliefs make me more noble than another farmer, or more so than a teacher, truck driver or real-estate agent? Nah. Does it make me more noble than a farmer who doesn’t hold to those same beliefs? I don’t think so–it means we value different things, and see different ends.
However, farming DOES take balls.
For me, I’ll admit– I do need that belief in the noble. Most of the time, my work instills it for me. Some days it’s all spreadsheets and cursing, but other days I’m given a sideways glance into the positive impact our farm truly does have on others and our environment. We hold dearly to those days when we’ve done our job most right and see the goodness we’re always after. I believe it is good to grow food in tandem with nature as much as I can, and to work to provide real foods to people in my community
It isn’t noble to farm, but I do think it’s the perfect goal.
“So go on, have the balls to try that giant daikon radish–it could just be the noblest thing you do all day.”
Casey McAuliffe is one half of Moon Dog Farms and the manager of Galveston’s Own Farmers Market, both located on the Texas Gulf Coast. Her Certified Naturally Grown farm and orchard is rife with coyotes and crawfish. She finds blogging a strange but welcome distraction, and the chance to have a good think. Plus, it means air conditioning.