5) They have limited their farms to a scale that is compatible both with the practice of neighborhood and with the optimum use of low-power technology.
Farming in the modern day has been simultaneously romanticized and distanced from urban lifestyles. Phrases like ‘returning to the land’ imply that those who farm are not the same as those who live in cities – that urbanites and country folk are two unmixable cultures, like oil and water.
But, coming to Louisville, and seeing houses and yards like those of Joe Franzen and Claude Stephens, has changed my perception and definition of ‘farming’. Joe and Claude are both visionary individuals, motivated to live within the limits of a sustainable and rewarding lifestyle. They both live in urban areas of Louisville, yet their yards are small urban patches of greenery amidst rows of houses and a high population density. From the fronts of their houses, the last thing you expect is a substantial garden in the back yard.
Walking into these yards, I was struck by an intense admiration for both these people. Even with their busy lives, they somehow managed to grow gardens in these yards – yards teeming with life and nourishment, indicative of care and foresight, revealing of the intentional and motivated personalities of their inhabitants.
They were yards overflowing with carefully cultivated flora: fragrant herb gardens, colorful patches of swiss and rainbow chard, broad leafy lettuces, bright juicy berries, tomatoes bursting with flavor, and many more vegetables and fruits that nourish both our minds and souls.
These two people are just stand-out examples of a growing movement of urban farmers – their backyards, though not a 40-acre property with tractors and hay bales and traditional implications of a farm, are their own personal farms, filled with crops that they themselves cultivate and can easily eat for dinner.
When I return home to suburban New York, I’m returning to a back and front yard more than twice as big as the yards here. We have a swingset in the back, unknowingly resting on fertile soil – a perfect place for a thriving garden. My dad wants to cover this precious soil with asphalt and add a basketball hoop.
Now, I have a renewed motivation not to let him do that. With the houses of Joe and Claude in mind, I plan to begin to create my own urban farm, a farm that is limited in scale enough to fit in a suburban neighborhood, but still be vibrant and dynamic enough to provide fresh greens for my family, and a spiritual connection to the soil.
I wish you the best of luck with your Dad. I had not realized that I also would like to carry small-scale backyard gardening into my post-FoodWorks life until I read your post and was struck by how powerful caring for a few vegetables can be. In my work this summer, the farm vegetables have been both a source of tasty healthy food, of joy, and a way to get out of my own head and leave my ego at the gate. Such a thing is much better than a basketball court.
My question is: How will you get your Dad to agree? From what you say, I assume he has never farmed and perhaps does not share your appreciation for gardening. How do you convey the feelings you have gained this summer to someone who has never felt that way about plants, and convince them to change their behavior (i.e., by not putting up a basketball hoop)? I ask because I envision a similar struggle with my own family.