I spent the first seven years of my life on the Shafter Cotton Research Station. My Dad's first spoken word was "tractor". My grandfather grew up on a farm in Rio Bravo with two work horses named Jack and Dan who pulled the cultivator. My great-grandfather Pete grew cotton and alfalfa. My great-great grandfather Jake moved from Oklahoma to Kansas to California and farmed the land in each place. I am descended from generations of people who worked the land, and I am proud of it and feel connected to this land and my food because of it.
This year the cotton is coming off late in Shafter and I was happy to get to see it. I even ran into the owner of this particular field while I was out picking dried cotton boles and when I rattled off my genealogy we discovered that he used to ride the bus with my grandma Judy.
Farming is becoming more and more of a big business and less and less of a family oriented task. It makes me sad, but in my own generation not a single one of my grandfather Walter's grandchildren is involved in farming (besides the backyard variety). I don't know what, if anything, I should or can do about that. But it seems wrong to me. A break in tradition. Losing a bit of where we've come from. Where will we go with no roots to feed us?
No comments:
Post a Comment