|
Guest Editorial
Just what is a "lifestyle farmer?"
by Rupert Jannasch
Several years ago, a new neighbor announced he was going into
beef. He would do it right, he said, not like those part-time
fellows. I often wonder what happened to him.
He came to mind after reading comments about lifestyle farmers
in the courageous bit of reporting about the Nova Scotia beef
loan debacle ("Debt never looked so good," Early Spring
Atlantic Beef, 2009).
Would my neighbor have measured up as a real cattleman or was
he a lifestyle farmer who failed? It's not clear, but then again,
who is a lifestyle farmer anyway?
Could it be what remains of a dude ranch after subtracting the
land and livestock? Maybe it is a farmer keeping less than 40
cows or even someone who shows cattle? Does the farmer who cuts
his own firewood qualify? What about the farmer hard up, getting
by on outside work?
Whatever their substance, it seems lifestyle farmers are being
made scapegoats during these trying times in agriculture. This
ugly label is creeping into farming speech with a cynicism and
contempt of others that reeks of former Agriculture Secretary
Butz's slogan "Get big or get out."
Granted, it could just be loose talk. Part of a spat, maybe,
between parties over who is most deserving of government assistance.
Like roosters crowing the hens are soiling the nest.
In all honesty, though, people are latching on to lifestyle farmer
like a brand; as if wielding the hot iron will somehow set them
apart from others less deserving. Regrettably, the thinking is
shallow and the name calling hurtful and dangerous. Left unchecked,
this gutless attitude will divide communities and make them bleed,
never to recover.
What's more, muddy vocabulary can smear with a very broad brush.
When E.B. White moved from New York City in the late 1930s to
a saltwater farm in Maine, he was urged to spare the reading
public stories about his "little adventures in contentment."
Some time later he produced "Charlotte's Web." Where
does the fanciful story of a pig, a spider, and a young girl
fall on the fit-for-farming scale? Are we ready to trash the
book in case it leads impressionable young minds astray?
What about our 4-H clubs? Probably not one in a thousand members
will ever make a full-time living from farming, yet here we are
teaching that farming is a fine way of life and how to raise
a calf.
God forbid, but some kid might get the idea to keep a few cattle
some day.
Thankfully, the belief that 4-H is healthy for agriculture persists,
and surely, if a children's livestock club is worthwhile then
every person who keeps a beef or hoes a garden deserves attention,
too.
And if allowed to start, where would the cleansing stop? With
so-called lifestyle farmers out of the way, would the inferior
beef breeds be next?
The trouble is, farming is all about lifestyle, but few care
to admit it. The cowboy culture out West, the trucks, neighbors
helping others in crisis and the feel-good scenes used to market
food are all part of an appealing image. Mostly, people take
pride in the culture of agriculture at least what's left
of it.
The cast of characters in lasting communities must be broad.
The smallest breeder, the feedlot owner, and the junkyard operator
are all needed to sustain the cattle markets, the drovers, a
few county fairs, and other essential infrastructure from disappearing
like so much chaff.
To keep things intact, it would be best if the title "lifestyle
farmer" were weeded out, stamped on, and purged. Producing
food is a labor of love for many, and there is no need to cheapen
their efforts with bitter and unsavory comments about the countless
lifestyles that are part of this process.
(Rupert Jannasch farms in Summerville,
Hants Co., N.S.)
|
