My family is descendant from the German Amish immigrants who fled to Pennsylvania where they, in a turn of events that Berry would find shameful, went from traditional farmers to candy makers. Somehow, my mother’s family ended up in Minnesota before settling in New Hampshire but even that didn’t last; my mother and I moved four times before settling back in New Hampshire only to up and go again, finally settling in Vermont, where we have lived for the last 14 years. I still can’t seem to settle. Even after attending college in my home state, it wasn’t until I traveled all the way to Kentucky that I become active in an agricultural/food community in more than just a passing way, which embarrasses me more than I expected.
Most of my work in Louisville brings me to Henry County, about an hour outside of Louisville. During my hour long commute, my co-worker Katie often tells me tales of her rural Kentucky upbringing, pointing out ways that the landscape has changed, what businesses have thrived and which have been bought out to make way for commercial sprawl. She prides herself on her decision to settle close to home in an effort to revitalize home through vegetable and meat processing plants that could bring food locals as well as the one restaurant in New Castle, Kentucky. The projected crown jewel on the town will be a single high end restaurant, offering a change of pace from “Starvin’ Marvin’s” the southern comfort diner that we often grab lunch and sweet tea from.
In high school, I took a two week course on local foods, and my Middlebury OINK trip focused on organic farming. Beyond that, I know Vermont through the eyes of a consumer or, at best, a back yard gardener. My family eats local meat and I push for more farmer’s market produce and fairy when I am home, but at Middlebury, I lose most of this convicaiton and settle for whatever is in the dining hall, not wanting to shell out the money at the co-op. In Vermont, ocal food is a luxury. Berry’s essay on Amish communities along with the discussion we had this week in our video-conference and during our fifth day led me to question the role of enjoyment in one’s life, both in regard to lifestyle preferences as well as to relationships with food and agriculture. As many of us in Louisville experience the reality of working a 9-5 job under the harsh Kentucky sun, myself included, I can’t help but think this experience will lead us to appreciate the work that farmers do but that many will not be interested in toiling away like this day in and day out. And as we look to notions of progress, how do we reconcile our desire to improve agriculture on a broad scale with the idea of personal enjoyment? As I find myself carving a niche in Kentucky, do I abandon it to revitalize my own drug-addled, economically unstable hometown? To do so would surely be seen as a failure to many in my community- didn’t I go to Middlebury so I could get away from a place like Rutland? Do I aim to return to Louisville, the only place I having food knowledge of beyond that of a consumer?
This all leads me to the Amish principle saying that members should “have educated their children to live at home and serve their communities.” I would not say that my family isn’t active in the community; on the contrary. The longer that we’ve lived in Vermont, the more we’ve moved towards local businesses, beginning a small one of our own. My parents often volunteer for school events and I substitute teach when possible in local school systems. But food was never the focus, and who is to blame for this? Did we lose sight of our Amish roots in favor of enjoyment, of the thrill of the next move, of the bigger house? Do I blame my parents for failing to teach me the importance of serving the local earth? And if I leave Vermont after I leave Louisville, how can I hold myself accountable in my next community? There is no obvious answer to this question, but I hope that the longer I spend here, the closer I can get to an answer.
This is very thought provoking. I know I don’t want to live in my childhood hometown after I graduate, but does that mean I’m abandoning it? Are we obligated to stick to our locations of origin and try to preserve and improve them? And most of us have backgrounds stemming from many different places. It would be impossible to live in and serve all of them at once. For example, I grew up in upstate New York, but my dad’s from Long Island, my mom’s from Wisconsin, and my ancestors were from various countries in Europe. It’s less complicated for me since I lived in the same place my whole childhood. But even so, I’m becoming deeply attached to Vermont as I attend Middlebury, and I’m growing much fonder of Louisville than I ever expected to. This makes me wonder how we can balance the desire to live in new places with the desire to remain loyal to our original homes and the people living there. This is tough for me because I want to live in new locations but I also want to be close to the communities I’ve grown up with. In the end, though there is a specialness to staying connected with one’s place of origin, I think we should do what feels right to us, and try to contribute as much as possible to whichever community we end up living in.
Meredith! Your post really got me thinking– is becoming invested (broadly speaking) in an adopted community truly less valuable/responsible than being involved in the food systems (and other systems) of your “real” home? The principle Berry mentions does seem to imply that the admirable commitment is to home soil– to the environment that raised you, I guess. But particularly for someone like you, who’s called many so places “home” (or at least lived in many places– I don’t know how much allegiance you’ve felt to each), it seems like the concept of owing a pocket of land your time and energy might not apply so rigidly. I like the image Berry constructs– of a return to very-nearly-literal roots– but I also believe strongly in the validity of putting down new ones… not necessarily in place of the old, but perhaps in addition to (though would divided commitment then pose a problem?). Clearly this is a brainstorm. Thanks for getting it started!
Hi Meredith!
I really enjoy reading your story. I feel the same as you that I appreciate the work that I am doing now. It makes me feel like I am precious as I am taking care of the school and trying to keep and transform the school’s environment to look nicer. When people come to the school and talk about the food that we grow or the surrounding of the school full of flowers, I will be so happy that I have helped changing the school scenery to make it more beautiful. After staying in Louisville for a while, I started to care more about how much work that the farmers have done to create food for all of us. I am really appreciate them!