Workday and knead 2 know | Friday, October 7

On Friday, October 7th, students celebrated the start of Family Weekend with a joyous workday on the Old Acre. On what may well have been the last hot and sunny day of the season, students and their family members harvested tomatoes, peppers, kale, and collard greens. Students washed and packed the greens, then pulled out the end-of-season kale and collard green plants from the field. Participants then chopped the plants into small pieces and composted them, before rolling up the tarps and tidying up the now-empty beds, ready for the upcoming planting of cover crop. Students also raked beds, sowed wheat, weeded the upper berm area, and continued the weekly task of stringing marigold garlands. 

As the workday portion of the afternoon concluded, participants gathered in the Lazarus Pavilion for cool, refreshing apple cider and a plethora of delicious and creative pizzas. Carmen Ortega ’24, a 2022 Yale Farm Summer Intern, shared her knead 2 know on indigenous farming practices in New Mexico. Ortega is from Albuquerque and identifies as mestiza, meaning she has both Spanish and Indigenous roots. Ortega talked about food and cooking as a form of both cultural and physical survival; she discussed the topography and climate of New Mexico, some of the highest and driest in the country, and how farmers utilize various techniques to get plants to thrive in this arid region. She described many practices used to combat water scarcity such as canal irrigation and rainwater collection. Ortega also discussed the traditional practice of co-planting the “Three Sisters,” corn, beans, and squash. Additionally, Ortega presented elements of spirituality and worship as they relate to water and agriculture in indigenous cultures. Ortega talked about how some Southwestern Native Americans have lost agricultural knowledge through forced acculturation, and about efforts to reconnect people to the land, which her research also aims to do. 

After the k2k, students and parents lingered in the Lazarus Pavilion, listening to music as the Culinary Events Team continued to churn out pies. 

Thank you to everyone who came out to the Farm this weekend. It was so wonderful to meet your families and share the YSFP love. Photos from the k2k and workday can be viewed here.

The Unlikely Gardener | Saturday, October 1

On October 1st, a rainy Saturday afternoon, students gathered in Battell Chapel in Dwight Hall on Yale’s Old Campus to listen to Demetrius James give a reading of his piece “The Unlikely Gardener.” The event was co-hosted by YSFP, the Yale Undergraduate Prison Project, and the Yale Student Environmental Coalition. James is originally from the Bronx and is an alumnus of the Bard Prison Initiative. He recently founded the organization Project Oasis with the intention of planting an organic vegetable garden in every housing project in New York City. 

Introduced by YSFP farm manager Kavya Jain ’25, James started by reading his piece and then answered several questions from the audience. Born in a “built environment without green spaces,” James’s first involvement with gardening and organic food occurred during his 18 years in prison. James managed his institution’s garden and found it to be an empowering, healthy, community-building, and life-altering experience. 

James, the son of a sharecropper from South Carolina, spoke about the violent history of “black bodies and green spaces” and community skepticism toward gardening. James proposed an alternative to the commonly used term “food desert” to describe inner city spaces without proximate access to affordable produce or healthy food. Instead of “food desert”, James uses the term “food apartheid.”  A desert is a naturally occurring, sustainable environment, he reminded listeners. The term “apartheid” acknowledges that these disparities are constructed by policies of segregation and state violence. They have been created intentionally, and they can be dismantled intentionally, James taught us. (To learn more about the distinction between these two terms, check out this “Beyond the Buzzwords” article with research from Yale Professor Dr. Dorceta Taylor, curated by Yale Center for Business and Environment resident fellow Tagan Engel, with contributions from former Lazarus Fellow Austin Bryniarski.)

James recounted the experience of eating spicy leaves fresh from a garden bed and talked about the power that comes from being able to identify with food and where it comes from. James additionally spoke about the ways that built environments, especially project housing, can be anonymous and make people feel stripped of individuality. “Land is connected to liberty,” he said. “If you have land, you can basically do what you want.” His initiative is about getting people to their land. “Public spaces,” James said, are “ours. We’re the public.” James sees gardening and land reclamation as a means to unite communities. Neighbors nurture each other. 

James’s engaging talk—along with the YSFP’s cozy apple cider—provided a sense of warmth and inspiration on a dreary day. We are so grateful to James for bringing us his time, words, and wisdom, and to the partner organizations who helped make this event a reality. 

To view all the photos from this event, please follow this link.

Workday and knead 2 know | Friday, September 30

Making the most of the last few weeks of light-sweater weather, students showed up to the Farm in a near-record turnout for this Friday’s workday and knead 2 know. Students got right to work—mulching perennials, cleaning and re-bedding the chicken coop, hand-weeding the carrot bed, removing dead blooms from flower plants (“deadheading”), harvesting peppers and marigolds, and stringing beautiful flower garlands and non-traditional chile ristras. The Lazarus Pavillion looks extra special this month, decorated with drying chiles, dried flower bouquets featuring Strawflowers and Statice, and marigold garlands which will be used to make natural dye. 

After an accomplished afternoon of work, students migrated to the Lazarus Pavilion to enjoy pizza and cider made by our culinary events team. My personal favorite pie of the week may have been the sweet apple compote pizza, but they were all delightful. The culinary team took a brief intermission from throwing their forty balls of dough and community members paused their meal to listen to a knead 2 know by Grace Cajski ’24, a YSFP communications manager who writes the weekly YSFP newsletter! Grace is a 2021 Global Food Fellow who majors in English and Environmental Studies with a concentration in Marine Conservation. Cajski, who has family in Oʻahu, presented her research on Hawai’ian fishpond aquaculture. Cajski impressed upon listeners that Hawai’i is not “just a paradise,” but a place with rich history and unique agricultural traditions. Cajski described how farmers grow fish in estuarine pond. Baby fish can swim in, but larger, grown fish are stuck in the pond. Fishponds are the first form of aquaculture on the Pacfic Rim. Cajski described the “art” and “balance” of this reliable, sustainable food source, and the ways that colonization and invasive species threatened—and continue to threaten—this equilibrium. Cajski talked about the implications of climate-induced sea-level rise and how modern systems of land (or sea) ownership can make it difficult for indigenous stakeholders to steward their ancestral land. Cajski also discussed some potential solutions proffered by the tourism and education industries, as well as the U.S. Navy. While it was chilly and brisk on the Farm, Cajski’s captivating presentation brought us to warm, tropical waters and provoked new insights. 

We are thrilled by the number of people who have been joining us at the Farm. Please keep coming, and bring your friends! We love having you here. 

To view all photos from the event, please follow this link.

Workday and knead 2 know | Friday, September 23

 On September 23, 2022, around two dozen folks came up to the Farm to participate in our weekly workday. The fall harvest was fully upon us, and the afternoon was all about pulling, picking, and prepping.

One group pulled weeds from the lower culinary berm, a tangled texture of green. YSFP’s Manager of Field Academics Jeremy Oldfield taught attendees how to distinguish the weeds from the crops: lemon balm—a cousin of mint—was the target crop, and an eggplant cousin—with spikes!—needed to be pulled, along with unwanted veins of ivy growing in the underbrush. One group of participants dedicated itself to the berm, other students picked sweet peppers (and snuck a couple delicious bites), Still another strung up chrysanthemums.

After the berm was cleared of weeds, workday attendees took turns digging holes and planting black eyed susans. These seedlings had been growing in the Yale Science Building greenhouse for about a month, and they'll spend the next month pushing their roots into the berm. In the winter they’ll die back; come spring, they’ll bloom gold.

As the workday faded towards pizza-time, the sun started to dip towards the horizon and some workday participants wandered the flower field adjacent to Prospect Street. YSFP Communications Manager and photographer extraordinaire Reese Neal ’25 aptly noted that what makes our Farm so special is its dedication, not just to growing food and creating community, but also to celebrating the beauty that comes from working the earth.

 All the while, our undergraduate culinary events team was working hard to whip up some delicious pizza and press some fresh apple cider. Workday attendees—happy to sit down after two hours of farmwork—were spoiled with platters of pizza. As they ate, former Yale Farm Summer Intern and beloved YSFP community member Donasia Gray ’23 gave a moving knead 2 know about her summer working with the Sweet Water Foundation. She helped build and grow a neighborhood space in Chicago that uplifted the local community, recycled discarded materials, and redefined public space. Afterwards, participants asked questions, ate more pizza, mingled, and laughed. As always, many thanks to those who came; and, please join us next time.  

To view all photos from the event, please follow this link.

Workday & knead 2 know | Friday, September 16

On September 16, students gathered at the Old Acre for the second Friday workday and knead 2 know of the semester. Working together, the participants reaped the summer’s harvest and laid the groundwork for the fall. Attendees used pruners and knives to mow basil to the ground and assembled a leaf-plucking assembly line on the steps of the Lazarus Pavilion. These 30 lbs of basil were then given to Yale Dining for transformation into delicious pesto, pizzas, and pomodoro sauce. 

Students continued last week’s project of threading marigold garlands and hung the finished products in the Pavillion. Students also harvested collard greens, kale, lettuce, radishes, and pints of cherry tomatoes, which were brought to the Dwight Community Fridge. Moving their sights toward the later fall, students thoroughly weeded and watered berms, then planted sage, sorrel, and rudbeckia. Participants also cut pears in preparation for cider making.

After all their efforts, the workday crowd was hungry and ready for pizza! Everyone gathered in the Lazarus Pavilion under the marigolds to enjoy delicious pies by the culinary events team and listen to the k2k by Storm Lewis YSE ’23. Lewis, a 2022 Global Food Fellow originally from Brooklyn, NY, presented her summer research on food sovereignty for Black farmers in her hometown. After presenting data on the low rates of Black farmland ownership in the U.S., Storm discussed some of the community-based organizations in Brooklyn that are working in food sovereignty spaces. She explained how instead of pushing a specific definition of this term, she made space for the self-definition of ‘food sovereignty by the study participants. Lewis also presented on the various challenges faced by Black urban farmers and her experience volunteering on several urban farms throughout the summer. Her work highlights some of the incredible efforts already happening on the ground in Brooklyn and will eventually serve as a resource guide for her community. Overall, it was an afternoon of fantastic work and learning. We hope you will join us next week! 

To view all the photos from this event, please follow this link.

First Workday and k2k of the 2022-2023 Year

The Old Acre, which has been lovingly stewarded all summer by a small and dedicated team of Yale Farm Summer Interns, was once again alive with students on the first workday of the semester on Friday, September 9th. 

The perfect late summer weather, glowing afternoon sun, and revitalizing energy emblematic of a new semester made for a joyful reunion, as students returned to the Farm and to each other. 

Students spent the workday weeding the carrot beds and the gravel zones in the Lazarus Pavilion, pinching basil blossoms, and harvesting collard greens, lettuce, tomatoes, and radishes. The final task of the afternoon consisted of picking marigold flowers and stringing them into beautiful golden garlands, which will soon adorn the Lazarus Pavilion and be used to make dyes.  

Once the workday portion of the afternoon concluded, students gathered to eat delicious pizzas prepared by the YSFP’s undergraduate culinary events managers, featuring seasonal produce such as corn, basil, and peaches.  

Slices in hand, students listened to the week’s knead 2 know by Destiny Treloar YSE ‘23, a Masters of Environmental Science candidate at the Yale School of the Environment whose work focuses on food justice. Treloar shared findings from her summer thesis research into the experiences of Latina/x/e women experiencing poverty and food insecurity and how their relationship with emergency food access in cities was impacted by trauma associated with the pandemic. 

After the knead 2 know, students lingered to mingle in the Pavillion and were treated to a musical performance by Dani Zanuttini-Frank ’22 and Jason Altshuler '23 of Toil!. The magnificent turnout and strong enthusiasm amongst participants made for a truly magical evening. We cannot wait to see you at next Friday's workday and k2k and at our Sunday workdays as well. It’s going to be a great year! 

Socioeconomic Trends of Traditional HomeGardens in Pitekele, Sri Lanka | GFF '22

This post is part of Ismini Ethridge’s 2022 Global Food Fellowship.

Socioeconomic Trends of Traditional HomeGardens in Pitekele, Sri Lanka

Ismini, left, picking tea.

Throughout my childhood, I spent many summers on extended visits to family in Sri Lanka. Some of my first and most poignant lessons around environmental and social justice involved food; watching my grandmother carefully wrap every grain of leftover rice in banana leaves to avoid waste, noticing food availability tied closely to seasonal changes and environmental constraints, and witnessing hunger to an extent that I had never seen at home in the US.

The year I began graduate school, a national crisis in Sri Lanka provoked by a ban on agro-chemical inputs presented a unique opportunity to examine the complex entanglements of food systems with socio-political and economic imperatives. Sri Lanka’s President, who was eventually forced by civilian protest to resign, announced the abrupt ban on imports of agro-chemicals in April 2021, citing environmental and health concerns arising from the overuse of chemical fertilizers and pesticides, such as water pollution, soil depletion and erosion, and increased risk of colon, kidney, and stomach cancer due to excessive nitrate exposure in farming communities. The policy change, arguably motivated more by Sri Lanka’s diminishing foreign exchange reserves, brought global attention to the harms of modern agricultural systems devoid of environmental and social considerations.

A paddy field surrounded by forest/forest gardens.

The reaction was an outcry from farmers and the general public regarding the scant planning and lack of support to make the transition to organic farming, coupled with rampant inflation in food prices, and fears that the country could collapse into famine. The government ultimately rolled back many of the policies, but farmers’ harvests had already fallen by 40-70% percent due to lack of access to fertilizer when they needed it, and the concurrent economic crisis, the worst since independence, made it nearly impossible to import food items and other essential goods such as fuel.

Sri Lanka’s story, though perhaps the first to culminate in such dramatic effects, is not unique. Sri Lanka is one of many countries continually facing the deleterious consequences of colonial restructuring of food and economic systems, structural adjustment policies that pushed for the liberalization of agriculture, and a Green Revolution that fueled a dependence on imported chemical fertilizers and cash crop production.

In my nascent explorations aimed at trying to understand how Sri Lanka could move towards a more ecologically and socially integrative food system that bolstered local food sovereignty, I found immense inspiration and hope in learning about Sri Lanka’s deep history of traditional homegarden-agroforestry practices, often referred to as “tree gardens” or “forest gardens”. Homegardens are generally considered part of an agro-socio-ecological system that comprises domesticated plants and/or animals, as well as people, and produces a variety of fruits, vegetables, and non-timber forest products, that contribute to a family′s diet and may even provide additional income (Soemarwoto and Conway, 1992 cited in Mohri et. al 2013;124).

A new lookout hut being built after villagers began to re-adopt paddy cultivation amidst the national food crisis. Villagers take turns watching for animals from the lookout hut.

During the summer of 2022, I had the privilege, thanks to generous funding from the Yale Sustainable Food Program and the Tropical Resources Institute, to conduct research on homegardens in a small village in south west Sri Lanka adjacent to the Sinharaja Forest Reserve. Previous studies conducted in the area about 30 years ago revealed a rich practice of homegardening, as well as an encroaching influence of tea cultivation. The focus of my research was therefore to better understand the role of traditional homegardens in these smallholder livelihoods, how communities living in particularly precious ecosystems and landscapes were balancing subsistence food production with cash crop production, and more broadly, what could be learnt from these practices that are of national and even global relevance?

Planting tea crops.

I spent the better part of two months living in Pitekele, learning about homegardens and changing land use practices through household interviews and ethnographic research. The lives of the villagers are far too rich and complex to be encapsulated in one summer study, but a few trends and moments stood out as profound learnings. Nearly all households engaged in some form of cash crop production, usually tea, but homegardens remained an almost sacred staple for every household. One of the eldest villagers described caring for her homegarden as similar to loving and caring for a member of the family. Despite the increasing prevalence of tea cultivation, villagers rarely reported sacrificing homegarden land for cash crops, and the majority reported growing more food items in their homegardens since the last formal study was conducted 30 years ago, indicating that homegardening practices were still a stronghold in the community.

Villagers had an acute awareness of the role homegardens played in their food sovereignty as well. They took pride in being self-sufficient in growing many staple items, such as jackfruit, breadfruit, manioca, coconut, and a variety of fruits and vegetables. Many noted that despite losing jobs amidst the economic crisis and decreased tea yields due to the fertilizer ban, families were generally able to furnish their basic needs from their gardens. The intimate level of social integration required by village homegardens also helped ensure the economic and social security of the villagers, and played an integral role in the social cohesion and culture of the village. The rich diversity of plants and crops grown in homegardens, for example, was largely due to seed sharing amongst the community. Children not only played in the homegardens, but knew nearly every plant—vegetable, herb, medicinal—growing in them.

Pristinely clean water in the main river that flowed through the village.

Still, villagers faced challenges with their land and cultivation. While homegardens generally didn’t require any inputs, chemical fertilizers and pesticides were used on nearly all tea land, and crops suffered when the sharp rise of fertilizer prices restricted access. Forest laws that restricted hunting of animals and the use of forest products such as wood for fuel, timber, and fences meant that villagers were facing increasing pressure from wildlife threatening their vegetable crops. Local government offices made subpar attempts to support homegarden cultivation by providing some vegetable seeds and occasional workshops on how to make organic compost. 

These villagers demonstrated traditional agroforestry as a practice that afforded remarkable resilience amidst compounding national crises, yet there remains a clear opportunity for both localized and national policy efforts to more effectively support smallholders to maintain their traditional homegarding practices and have viable livelihoods.

Food Sovereignty in Urban Environments: Brooklyn, New York | GFF '22

This post is part of Storm Lewis’s 2022 Global Food Fellowship.

Food Sovereignty in Urban Environments: A Case Study of Brooklyn, New York

Growing up in what used to be a predominantly Black neighborhood, I witnessed how gentrification and food insecurity transformed Brooklyn’s foodscape. My drive to address disparities in food access further developed as my family grappled with the impacts of breast cancer. The relationship between cancer and diets made it clear to me that the quality of food consumed is a critical component of community health. Yet, food apartheids pervade areas where I grew up.

As a student and activist, I turned to urban agriculture as a platform to gain autonomy and help others connect to nutritious foods. Whether I was growing collard greens in my elementary school yard or advocating for public school gardens, I found strength in the ability to grow food. My experience gardening made me understand that access to healthy, culturally appropriate food is only one facet of community health. Black communities must also have a stake in the production of our foods.

 Historically, Black farmers have been systematically discriminated against and denied the right to cultivate farmland for decades. Institutions such as the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) have strategically reduced Black land ownership by limiting access to loans and access to quality land free from environmental hazards. The number of Black farmers in the United States continues to decline due to the loss of land and agricultural knowledge in Black communities.[1]

In 2017, less than 1% of New York State Farmers were Black.[2] [3] For the Black farmers that managed to produce an annual harvest, their profit margins were significantly lower than White farmers. Given this history, current efforts to improve food systems must support models in which Black farmers can achieve self-determination through communal or individual control of agricultural land.

 Food sovereignty is one of the few approaches encouraging communities to define and control their food systems. However, few studies examine the pathways to success for Black farmers. My study fills this gap by questioning what Black-led, food sovereignty organizations exist in Brooklyn across the food supply chain. Do they self-identify as food sovereign? Lastly, what are the barriers to implementing food sovereignty on a local and national scale?

Hattie Carthan Farmer's Market.

 In June of 2021, I used a multi-method approach to understand the challenges and achievements of Black foodways through interviews and participant observation. I spoke with over forty-five organizations ranging from Green Thumb, Universe City, East New York Farms, Seasons Plant Shop, New Visions Garden, Oko Farms, to Red Hook Community Farms, and other gardens in Brooklyn.

I also engaged in fifty-five hours of volunteer work at farms and gardens. Some of the tasks involved weeding, watering, and harvesting plants, building trellises, picking up trash, organizing tool sheds, and selling produce at farmer’s markets. The information collected will contribute to a resource guide that helps food producers access funding sources. The final paper will also provide recommendations for local governments to support Black food systems.

Overall, it was a privilege working alongside farmers to grow and distribute fresh produce. I am humbled to have learned from those who dedicate their lives to food production. As a result, I gained a form of knowledge that cannot be taught in the classroom nor read in literature. I will carry these lessons with me as I move through my studies at the Yale School of the Environment (YSE) and beyond.

To learn more about my research, you can read my article on food sovereignty published in the Mellon Mays Undergraduate Fellowship Journal. Later this year, I will partner with MidHeaven Network to moderate a podcast series featuring Black agrarianism in New York City. I will also present my project at the New Horizons in Conservation Conference, ​​the RITM 3-minute Research Presentations, and the YSE Summer Experience Showcase. 

———

This project was made possible with the support of the Global Food Fellowship, the Mobley Family Environmental Humanities Summer Student Research Grant, the RITM Research and Conference Travel Award, and my research advisor, Dr. Dorceta Taylor.

Full Links:
https://uraf.harvard.edu/files/uraf/files/mmuf_journal_2021.pdf
https://www.midheaven.network

Citations:
[1] Taylor, D. E. (2018). Black farmers in the USA and Michigan: Longevity, empowerment, and food sovereignty. Journal of African American Studies, 22(1), 49–76. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12111-018-9394-8

[2] Taylor, D. E. (2018). Black farmers in the USA and Michigan: Longevity, empowerment, and food sovereignty. Journal of African American Studies, 22(1), 49–76. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12111-018-9394-8

[3] United States Department of Agriculture. Census of Agriculture. 2017 Volume 1, Chapter 1: State Level | 2017 Census of Agriculture | USDA/NASS. (2017). Retrieved October 28, 2021, from https://www.nass.usda.gov/Publications/AgCensus/2017/Full_Report/Volume_1,_Chapter_1_State_Level/.

COVID-19 and Urban Emergency Food Justice | GFF '22

This post is part of Destiny Treloar’s 2022 Global Food Fellowship.

COVID-19 and Emergency Food Justice:
Understanding chronically food insecure Latina/x/e women’s relationship with urban emergency food access in Hialeah, Florida

A picture of cacao, one of the fruits sorted at the food distribution in Hialeah.

A picture of some of the tropical fruits at a local farmers market in Hialeah where I volunteered.

A community fridge in Hialeah stocked with donated water that I stocked, organized, and cleaned during my volunteer work with Buddy System and Food Rescue. 

A photo/selfie of Destiny Treloar, right, and Te'Yah Wright (MEM student, class of 2023) volunteering at Holyoke's Farmers Market, aiding at the Healthy Incentive Program (HIP) informational booth. 

A close-up photograph of a bag of emergency food available at a food drive in Hialeah that I volunteered at. 

This summer, I’ve examined the complex elements of emergency food networks in two urban cities through the lenses of Latina/x/e women for my Master of Environmental science thesis at Yale School of Environment. I collected surveys, conducted interviews, engaged in participatory observations, and recorded the available emergency food outlets. As part of my data collection, I volunteered at several food outlets and community events, including farmers’ markets, food banks, soup kitchens, community fridges, and community gardens. My volunteering efforts were incredible opportunities to assist in food insecurity efforts in the community, as well as connect with folks about emergency food relief.

My mixed qualitative approaches revealed the interwoven crisis of the COVID-19 pandemic, inflation, and climate crisis playing a significant role in emergency food outlet operations and provisions. I uncovered there were a host of barriers present to Latina/x/e women, indicating unequal dimensions of access to emergency food outlet systems. I ripped open the red tape around ‘free food’ offerings to determine the barriers Latina/x/e women encounter when accessing emergency food assistance programs. I also used this analysis to develop multi-faceted solutions to foster a more inclusive environment.

As a Nicaraguan woman, this was an incredible opportunity to connect with disenfranchised communities and dive deeper into the intersecting food issues prevalent in the broader food access system, with a particular focus on emergency food offerings. Examination of chronically food insecure Latina/x/e women is absolutely critical to advance the understanding of the systems of power within the emergency food access system that mitigates rates of food insecurity. This research would not be possible without the generous support of the Global Food Fellowship Program. I am honored to be able to answer my questions in the food justice realm.

Stories from the Ground Up: Vermont Farmers' Land Ethics | GFF '22

This post is part of Katie Michels’ 2022 Global Food Fellowship.

Dairy cows grazing near Montpelier, Vermont. Photo by Katie Michels.

This summer, I interviewed 20 Vermont farmers about how and why they manage their land, and what influences their relationships with their land. I asked questions like: Why do you manage your land in the ways that you do? What enables or constrains your ability to farm in the ways that you want to? What does land stewardship mean to you? I spoke with livestock farmers who are managing their animals in different ways, seeking to understand a variety of land management practices and the reasons why farmers use them.

Through these conversations, I was able to hear directly from farmers about their relationships with their land, and the reasons why they make the land management decisions they do. I learned so much about not just the specifics of different land management practices (i.e. what does management-intensive rotational grazing look like on a farm that was abandoned for 50 years prior?), but also the depth of factors that inform farmers’ land management choices. Many farmers I spoke with described the importance of growing food for their communities; fostering habitat for animals both large (bears, deer) and small (bobolinks, butterflies); continuing family legacies; and farm viability. I heard farmers describe how they think of farming as an environmental act, because it places them in relationship with land and offers space and time to know it well. I also heard farmers speak about the value of having many farmers in a community, for how it creates volunteer capacity for municipal bodies like select boards, school boards, and fire departments, which form the lifeblood of rural communities. Many mourned the loss of community ties and capacity that has come as small farms have closed or consolidated and there are fewer full-time farmers.

My time in Vermont allowed me to deepen my own layers of connection to this landscape and place, and to better understand the ways that farmers have made Vermont’s working landscape what it is. The stories I heard were rich and deep. It was a gift to sit with farmers for spans of time ranging from one hour to three days to hear their stories of place, land, animals, and people and the ways they are in relationship with each. Through this work, I learned what farmers are doing, why they are doing it, and how they articulate what land stewardship means to them. I hope to continue to share stories of how the impacts of farmers’ actions ripple out into the human and more-than-human communities of which they are part.

Thank you to the YSFP Global Food Fellows Program, Jubitz Family Endowment for Research, and the Mobley Family Environmental Humanities Grant for supporting this work.

Fisher Ecological Knowledge in Fishery Studies | GFF '22

This post is part of Daviana Berkowitz-Sklar’s 2022 Global Food Fellowship.

The role of fisher ecological knowledge in fishery studies:
A case study from a Costa Rica recreational billfish fishery

Daviana, left, during an informal conversation with Chepe, a retired fisherman.

Early morning departure for a full day of sport fishing ahead.

A glimpse into the beautiful beaches of the Osa Peninsula of Costa Rica, where a large portion of this research took place.

On the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica, sport fishing has become an important component of the national ecotourism industry, yet our fundamental understanding of these fisheries is limited. Scientific data about the distribution and behavior of near-shore populations of sailfish and blue marlin, two of the most targetted billfish species by sport fishers, is limited. On the other hand, local ecological knowledge (LEK) is increasingly being recognized as a valuable component of ecological studies.
Local people interact with the environment on a daily basis, yearlong, and over generations.

Fishers in Costa Rica have been observing billfish trends closely for many years and possess a wealth of knowledge about the billfish fishery. Combining Western fishery science with fishers' ecological knowledge may be a valuable way to fill data gaps, hear the perspectives of local stakeholders, and create management decisions that serve both the ocean and the local communities that depend on them.

This past summer, I set out to investigate ecological questions about the billfish fishery on the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica through the ecological knowledge of local sport fishers. I asked myself, “how can fisher knowledge become a part of ecological modeling in order to provide scientific, ecological, and social value for fishery science and management?” I interviewed over 50 fishermen in the sport fishing industry and asked them questions about the availability and distribution of billfish species. I also asked them how these billfish populations and environmental factors have changed over time. I am incredibly grateful to the fishermen I met for sharing their knowledge and time.

I will analyze the information I learned from the fishermen in Costa Rica through a mixed-methods approach, combining both social and natural science techniques, as a means of giving voice to local perspectives, enhancing understanding of the environmental and anthropogenic variables influencing billfish populations and distribution, and advising equitable and effective future marine conservation planning in the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica. I look forward to sharing what is learned from this investigation with all interested parties including the participants of the study. I hope to continue to learn about Costa Rican fisheries from the diverse perspectives of all stakeholders.

This project is a part of Stanford University’s DynaMar Project. This project was also supported by the Alan S. Tetelman 1958 Fellowship for Research in the Sciences.

Snapshots from a recent research trip to the Canadian Arctic | GFF '21

This stunning mural (located just beside the Aquatic Centre) is one of several you will spot around Iqaluit.

Snapshots from a recent research trip to the Canadian Arctic
Sappho Gilbert, PhD Candidate, Yale School of Public Health, Department of Chronic Disease Epidemiology

“What’s your dissertation topic?”

Doctoral students are often asked some version of this question. While my specific answer depends on the audience, I usually respond along the lines of: “I work with the local government and Inuit communities in the Canadian Arctic to study how environmental and other variables impact food security and population nutrition.”

TL;DR?  Here’s my (short) running title I’ll use in a pinch: “Arctic health and food security.”

No matter my reply, the tête-à-tête virtually always continues with a kindled curiosity: “Wow, the Arctic!  What’s it like up there?”

It’s understandably tough to imagine life – let alone research – in the remote, northernmost parts of our globe.  In North America, the Arctic is geographically distant from the vast majority of our population; this is true for Americans vis-à-vis Alaska as well as for Canadians (90% of whom live within 100 miles of the United States border).  Even if one decides to visit an Arctic destination, it can be logistically complex and quite expensive to get, stay, eat, and sightsee up there.

Interestingly, Iceland and Norway have become tourist hotspots over roughly the past decade.  At various times of year, social media teems with the Arctic’s magical nature: frozen fjords; moving, majestic icebergs; the glow of the midnight sun peeking through a camping tent door; and the mesmerizing ribbon dance of the aurora borealis.  Such moments are, indeed, incredible and exist all around the Arctic Circle; yet, picturing day-to-day life in a circumpolar community remains elusive to most.

Thus, when the Yale Sustainable Food Program (YSFP) invited me to share a peek into life as a researcher working with circumpolar communities as part of my doctoral studies, I was thrilled.  Right after spring term ended, I headed up to the Canadian Arctic territory of Nunavut (the geographic focus of my dissertation) and took these photos during my stay.  I hope you enjoy this window into the magnificent North!

Before we dive into the pictures, I’d like to express my deepest gratitude to YSFP for supporting my dissertation research through the Global Food Fellowship Program.  I also wish to thank the following additional funders of this community-partnered work: the National Institutes of Health’s National Institute Environmental Health Sciences (F31 National Research Service Award), the Yale Center on Climate Change & Health (Pre-Doctoral Fellowship), P.E.O. International (Scholar Award), and the Yale Institute for Biospheric Studies (Science Communication Fellowship).  Finally, I am grateful for the collaborations with and support of my Dissertation Advisory Committee, F31 Co-Sponsors, and colleagues in Nunavut, across Canada, and beyond – without whom this work would not be possible.

Welcome to Iqaluit (Nunavut’s capital), located on Frobisher Bay with a population of 7,429! (Screenshot taken of my Google Maps iOS app)

Flights from “the South” (as the provinces of Canada are called here) to the territory are extremely expensive – and even more so between communities. Someone once told me it cost the same for her to fly round-trip from Pond Inlet to Iqaluit as it did for her to fly between Ottawa and Southeast Asia!

Fresh powder falling steadily at 11 PM in mid-May. Two misconceptions I regularly hear are either that it’s “cold and dark year-round” or that “it must be cold and dark for 6 months straight” (followed by 6 months of light). Neither is true! Well, I guess “cold” is relative, and yes, it is usually much colder in Iqaluit than in Halifax or New Haven (the latter of which was enjoying a perfectly sunny 72°F/22°C when I left it). However, a typical summer day in Iqaluit is close to a chilly New Haven spring or autumn one – a simple jacket should work! Regarding light, only the Earth’s northernmost and southernmost points experience equal periods of darkness and daylight. Grise Fiord, the most northern community in Nunavut, goes dark “only” from November to mid-February and basks in 24 hours of sunlight in an analogous stretch in the summer.

Home base – and a local project partner – for many of us researchers: the Nunavut Research Institute!

The Unikkaarvik Visitor Centre features cool maps, dioramas, some amazing art, and historical, geographic, and cultural information about Nunavut and the Inuit. When you visit, be sure to also check out the curated art and gift shop at the Nunatta Sunakkutaangit Museum next door.

A delightful night in with friends noshing on Arctic char sushi rolls by 100% Inuit owned Sijjakkut. In a word: yum!

Speaking of food, this is one of the heaviest financial burdens of life here. The prices of store-bought food are notoriously high across the North American Arctic; should you prefer to harvest, the costs associated with hunting, sealing, whaling, or even fishing can also quickly escalate. Nunavut Country Food is a conveniently located option in town that sells a variety of harvested food (dubbed “country food”).

On a crisp and windy morning, I treated myself to a quick, pre-meeting bite and coffee at Black Heart Café, a popular spot for casual or business meet-ups.

The Iqaluit Aquatic Centre boasts a 25-meter lap pool, lazy river, waterslide, saunas, hot tub, and fitness facility. On my third day, I ran (ahem, swam) into an old acquaintance during a lunch hour dip. It's a small town, after all!

This stunning mural (located just beside the Aquatic Centre) is one of several you will spot around Iqaluit.

Armory Community Garden in Photos | YFSI '22

This post is part of Brianna Jefferson’s 2022 Yale Farm Summer Internship Independent Project.

The focus of my Independent Project was researching the significance of community gardens in cities experiencing food apartheid. I was interested in the role of these gardens, and how they helped connect individuals in their collective struggles. I also knew that I wanted to focus on New Haven, because it’s a space that I haven’t spent enough time examining in my regular coursework. My defining questions for my project were about the use of the word “community” to describe these gardens. Does the element of “community” help empower citizens and bring them together in their food struggles? How important is having a community? My research methods involved studying the different types of community gardens in New Haven and choosing one as the case study. I chose to focus on Armory Community Garden because not only does it do a wonderful job of connecting people with the land, and fresh produce, but it also emphasizes the importance of community. Armory is a place of gathering, and hosts community events that range from book club meetings, to Juneteenth celebrations, and cooking demonstrations. During my time volunteering at the garden, I saw children from as young as six years old running around and helping with the lettuce harvest, to an elderly woman in a wheelchair helping to water the crops. The space is open to everyone in the community and welcomes them in. My photo essay was a way for me to celebrate the work that Armory Garden does and share what I learned over the course of my summer.

Reclaiming Raíces: Tradition, Place, and Curanderismo in the Land of Enchantment | YFSI '22

This post is part of Carmen Ortega’s 2022 Yale Farm Summer Internship Independent Project.

This summer, I’ve thought a lot about the concept of place, which “encompasses not only a specific location and the physical world, but also the human relationships and meanings that unfold there” (Schnell 624). Physical space becomes place when we “get to know it better and endow it with value,” and “there is no place without self and no self without place.” (Casey 684, Tuan 6).

My independent project began with a question about place: how have Indigenous and Mestizo food and agricultural traditions in New Mexico contributed to the state’s unique sense of place, particularly as catalysts for spirituality, healing, and community? I came to this question after reflecting on why I was drawn to the Yale Farm internship in the first place: my raíces (roots). I am a proud Nuevo Mexicana, raised in Albuquerque and part of the Ortega, Maes, Chavez, and Padilla families from central and northern New Mexico. I identify as Mestiza; on both sides, my family can trace our ancestry back to the sixteenth-century Spanish colonists of the region, and, like most Hispanic New Mexicans, we also have Indigenous ancestry.

In preparation for a recent discussion, the farm interns read a piece about decolonization in settler colonial states. One sentence, about the way Native Americans have been racialized in the United States, stood out to me: "Native Americanness is subtractive: Native Americans are constructed to become fewer in number and less Native, but never exactly white, over time" (Tuck & Yang). First, I want to acknowledge that my racial identity of "Mestiza," of mixed Indigenous and European ancestry, gives me a certain degree of privilege. But this sentence also made me ponder how Mestizos in New Mexico were forcibly stripped of their "Native Americanness"-- my family speaks Spanish, and we were able to learn the names of our European ancestors through Catholic church records, yet we know extraordinarily little about our Indigenous ones. As a result, I have also been racialized by this country as less native, but never exactly white. This realm of precarity and uncertainty about my Indigeneity has always left me searching for my raíces that were lost to settler colonialism.

The path that I’ve chosen toward reclaiming these raíces and understanding “place” in New Mexico is through plants and food. In her article “Decolonize your Diet,” Catrióna Rueda Esquibel explains that growing and eating heritage food is a form of cultural and physical survival. When I think about both of my grandmothers and their commitment to nourishing their families with the recipes they learned from their mothers, grandmothers, and from preceding generations, I see this cultural survival at play. This project represents my love and admiration of food and plants as family, medicine, community, and place in “la tierra del encanto” (the land of enchantment).

Small Town Kid Goes to Yale to Dig Up Carrots | YFSI '22

This post is part of Eli White’s 2022 Yale Farm Summer Internship Independent Project.

Small Town Kid Goes to Yale to Dig Up Carrots

This summer I thought about beauty, aesthetics, and practice. The link to the watercolors I created can be found here, and my thoughts on the project follow. 

1: Why?

I wrote this web of questions down at the beginning of the summer not as a laundry list of answers I hoped to walk out of this project with, but as the lens through which I wanted to approach all our conversations about agriculture. Beauty. Other words I considered: wonder, wholesome, magic, healthy, right, aesthetics, good—but I kept returning to beauty. Sometimes it seems silly, in a world with this many problems, to think about what is beautiful. And yet, I’m becoming more and more convinced that it’s not silly at all. Beauty is a serious matter. Beauty provokes serious questions. 

“Why?” is a serious question. There are two ways to ask it—first, as a matter of causality. The food system is a dense, intricate web of causality. When you start to examine the roots of beauty in it, you find both astonishing and terrible sources. Genocide, opression, ongoing dispossesion of personhood. Yet also resistance, tradition, culture, family, human connection. Food as the ugly blade of injustice. Food as the shield of human care, a tapestry of community. If I’m doing nothing else with this project, I’m trying to convince you it’s worth thinking about what is beautiful. Beauty is revealing, both in its presence and its absence. It’s worth trying to see the world as a painter, thinking in color. Thinking in beauty. 

The second way to ask the question “Why?” is a question of purpose and meaning. Of all the questions we ask, this is the one with the answer that doesn’t exist. “Why?” isn’t out there as “who?” or “what?” or “when?” or “where?” or “why?” as a question of “how?” are; we made “why?” up. It’s only in our heads. And I suppose that’s not to say that it doesn’t exist at all—our heads are part of this strange universe too—but it remains up to us. I found I could not write my answer in words, so I turned to watercolor. 

2: Control

Farming and food are defined by control. The history of food, which we continue to write, is an account of how various human societies try to control and organize themselves. It contains examples of extreme cruelty. It contains examples of staggering kindness. What do the aesthetics of different farms say about their practices? Take for example the enormous monoculture crop of corn, bred to choke out all other life with the help of synthetic pesticides, or the tomato bred for uniformity and mechanical sorting. And consider alongside them a permaculture homestead where, despite endeavoring to follow nature’s example, every foot of land has been shaped by human hands. 

Consider also, the loss of control in farming. With the ongoing drought ravaging the West, many of the farmers I knew growing up in Colorado are facing an increasingly bleak future. Native farmers of the Diné, Ute, and other tribes that have farmed in the Southwest for generations no longer can. Farmers everywhere are looking at a future of less and less control. 

Water soluble pigments also have a long human history of control. There are varied traditions of mediums that can be called watercolor, ranging from the 19th century British watercolorists, to the much older brush paintings of East Asia, to prehistoric cave paintings. Watercolor, generally requiring less resources than oil, helped increase access to art in Europe as it gained respect. But watercolor was also used as a tool of British imperialism, with traveling painters in India bringing landscapes back to wealthy British oligarchs to help justify colonization. 

I try to find a middle ground when painting and farming—between wanting to control every inch of a project, and letting it take what form it will. We cannot hold the entirety of things in our small, mortal hands; we have to learn to let things be as they will. Working in watercolor is already giving up a lot of control. Even with the strongest lightfast paint, watercolors will fade eventually. But natural water soluble pigments fade even faster. In some ways, I think I achieved that middle ground with my work this summer, and in others, I didn’t. The amount of control I end up having over my painting is, often, out of my control. 

My painting bag, containing: one chronically messy palette, nine brushes rubber-banded to each other, a bag of pigments, pencils, metal sharpener, sandpaper sharpener, a kneaded eraser that I’m always losing, an ever-growing collection of ink pens, one small sketchbook, and one tiny sketchbook

3: Agriculture and Home, Space and Change

Agriculture is space.

Mancos valley, where I grew up, looking west, towards Mesa Verde and Sleeping Ute, Winter 2021

Megan Tallmadge (left) and my mother Sara Wakefield (right) in the grocery store they founded, Zuma Natural Foods with their children. Photo credit: Megan Tallmadge

My father (far left) covering a high tunnel in the Mancos Valley, circa 2014. Photo credit: Sarah Syverson

The Wily Carrot, an organic vegetable farm in the Mancos Valley, Southwest Colorado, Summer 2021. Photo credit: Kellie Pettyjohn

Kellie Pettyjohn working in a tomato high tunnel, Wily Carrot Farm, 2013. Photo credit: Kellie Pettyjohn, Tim Stubbs

The first “urban community garden” in my life, Mancos Valley Mount Lookout Grange, Summer 2013. Photo credit: Jennifer Bamesberger

Agriculture is change.

New Haven at sunrise from East Rock, Winter 2021

View of Harkness tower, Yale Campus, New Haven from Sterling Library, fall 2021

The Yale Farm, Summer 2022

Sparrow rests next to the Yale Farm tomato high tunnel, Summer 2022

Yale Farm: Hens, Red Oak Butter Lettuce, Sugar Ann Snap Peas, Summer 2022

4: Water

Few things are as essential as water. I tend to enjoy painting, when I can, en plein air—outside, from life. During the hot summer days I spent painting on the Yale Farm this summer, my paint “drank” the same water as I did, poured gently from my nalgene to the little cuts that clip on to the side of my palette. Without water, the brushes and the little dry mounds of pigment on my palette are useless, essentially dead. Similarly, a plant may have roots in the most nutrient rich soil in the world, but without water, it will die. 

I grew up in a place that was more desert than forest or farm. The dry season at home is defined by dusty skies and raging forest fires. But when the winter snow melts in April, and the monsoons arrive in August, the valley blooms. Of course, there has never been a moment I have been alive where the Southwest has not been in a drought. Sometimes it looks like there might never be. And, largely due to agriculture, the Colorado River never reaches the sea. 

5: Care

In Buddhist practice, there are two broad categories of meditation—mindfulness and metta, a sanskrit word meaning loving-kindness. Mindfulness focuses on bringing awareness to the entirety of what a person is experiencing. Loving-kindness focuses on cultivating compassion, often visualized as a light that expands from yourself, to the people you love, to the people you know, to the whole world, to the whole universe. Painting—often sitting rather still with a particular subject or place for many hours on end in solitude and silence—I have learned is a wonderful activity to apply what I have learned in meditation. 

As an active, intentional practice, I love the Yale Farm, and I love agriculture. I think there’s a lot to be said for the potential of agriculture to transform us. This summer I spent a lot of time just sitting with the space, painting. Caring. Asking why it was here, why it was beautiful, why I found it beautiful. Controlling, and letting go of control. Thinking about where I came from. Drinking water from the Yale Farm spigot—which I swear tastes better than any other water in New Haven. And I found most of what I was feeling could not be put into words, but it could be put into color. 

Here are my paintings and sketches. They’re not just of what the Yale Farm looks like, but of the experience of being there. Or, at least, my experience. And I hope they spark some thoughts, or some joy. I hope there’s some beauty to be found here. 

Hens

Sugar Ann Snap Peas

Looking toward Edwards St

Young Corn

Red Oak Butter Lettuce

Incomplete painting of the pavillion

Sketch for apple tree painting

A Sonnet for an Apple Tree

When I consider our time together,

Ere the invocations of the falling leaves,

It will not matter much, I gather

That we, being mortal, must take our leave

In study of the fracturing of light

Into viridescence upon your boughs,

The name of beauty I found I could not write,

But I knew that it did not matter now.

Our bodies carry many questions

But affording them no resolution

No longer loads me with fear or tensions

We seek the deeper roots: revolution.

This is love, not as an afterthought

If you leave the fruit, it may go to rot

(I write one thing: It matters)

Liberty Apple Tree

"Peaking" Into Colorado's Regenerative Agriculture | YFSI '22

This post is part of Natalie Smink’s 2022 Yale Farm Summer Internship Independent Project

This summer I asked myself the question: What is the intersection of ecology, climate change, and agriculture, and how does this intersection point to possible forms of climate change mitigation? Specifically, what does this intersection look like in my home state of Colorado? 

Growing up in the suburbs of Denver, Colorado I had very little exposure to farming. My dad kept a garden in our backyard, but whenever I thought of farming I imagined a grain field far off to the east in the plains or scent of manure carried by the winds from feed lots up north. I was ignorant to the impact of agriculture on the environment and its contribution to climate change and even more oblivious to the fact that it could also serve as a solution. 

Regenerative agriculture is a farming concept that focuses on the health of the soil and overall ecosystem over the yield and its practices stem from indigenous knowledge. By employing certain practices such as low or no tilling, cover cropping, compost application, and livestock integration, regenerative agriculture fosters a healthy soil ecosystem that requires no chemical inputs and is more adaptable to climate fluxes. Regenerative agriculture works with the natural ecosystems to grow food, while also sequestering carbon out of the atmosphere. The philosophies of its practices also extend beyond the field and into social spaces. The wholistic approach to regnerate the land also calls for people to regenerate their connection with the land and for land to be given back to the communities that have historically farmed it. The current industrial practices that are stripping the soils of their nutrients are reliant on the same government systems that have stolen land from indigenous groups and black farmers for hundreds of years. Thus regnerative agriculture calls for a fight against climate change and a fight for social justice. 

Initially, my researching into regenerative farming in Colorado focused on its potential to help protect farmers from the chronic drought conditions that the state faces. Investigating regenerative agriculture in Colorado provided me the opportunity to learn how my home is adapting to changing climates, while also getting to connect with farms in the state. I looked into the Colorado Department of Agriculture’s Soil Health Program that is working to educate more farmers on practices that will improve their soil health and identified self-labled regenerative farmers across the state. All of the farms I looked into were small scale farms that offered Community Shared Agriculture programs to their local communities that allow communities members to pay for shares of the farm’s produce. They all used a variety of regenerative farming techniques like no tilling, cover cropping, and compost application. Through a conversation with a regenerative farmer and the implementation of the CDA’s Soil Health Program, regenerative farming practices seem to be gaining momentum through out the state and more farmers are starting to adopt them. This provides hope that overtime these practices will be come more wide spread and will reduce the impact that human agriculture is having on the planet. 

Despite this increasing push towards regenerative farming, through out my research into Colorado regenerative farmers, all but one of the farmers that I encountered was white. This observation leaves me with my next steps to continue this project. I hope to continue investigating agriculture in Colorado, but through a more social lens in the future that asks what Colorado is doing to increase land availability to farmers of color. In order for regenerative farming to truely regenerate the land and the people who live on it, it must fight the systems of injustice that continuously disempower BIPOC communities and keep them from the land. 

Symbiosis and Community, as Taught by Fungi | YFSI '22

This post is part of Raina Sparks’s 2022 Yale Farm Summer Internship Independent Project.

How does a mushroom interact with the world around it? What does a mushroom represent? How can we learn from a mushroom? These were the guiding questions that brought me to center fungi in my final project. Early in my research for the internship, I learned how mycorrhizal fungi use tendrils called hyphae to attach to plant roots and form a symbiotic relationship with them, allowing the roots to uptake more nutrients from the soil and allowing the hyphae sugars from the plant roots. These interactions form robust underground networks which even allow plants to “communicate” with each other by sharing nutrients through mycorrhizae. This set of relationships seemed to me so positive and wholesome, and a wonderful model for healthy community interactions even in human relationships, those formed through mutual exchange and helping each other. This inspired me to use my Independent Project to explore and celebrate fungi, in two parts. First, I chose to explore an embodied practice and grow some Blue Oyster Mushrooms, so as to gain a hands-on understanding of what fungi need to thrive. Second, I used oil pastels to make a few art pieces in celebration of the relationships fostered by fungi, of their abundance and necessity to a healthy community. You can view my full project presentation here.

Maple Syrup: A Sugar Shack’s History | YFSI '22

This post is part of Sasha Carney’s 2022 Yale Farm Summer Internship Independent Project.

I have a longstanding academic, creative, and personal interest in the specific ecology and plants of the Ottawa Valley region, a swathe of unceded Algonquin Anishinaabeg land that straddles from the country’s political capital in anglophone Ontario to the quasi-rural communities of southwestern francophone Québec. I was raised in the city of Ottawa, a sleepy bilingual city of a million that is notable for two things: its strong outdoors culture and investment in the Canadian “wilderness,” and the construction and maintenance of a national Canadian political identity in a city whose primary employer is the federal government.

For my independent project, I looked at the particular ways in which maple tree, and the associated sap drilled from its trunk and refined into a food product, serve as a metonymy for “Canadian identity.” In particular, my final piece, in the form of a creative short story looked at the regional phenomenon of the “sugar shack,” a semi-commercial establishment that operates both the production of syrup and syrup products, and the hosting of guests who are given the opportunity to eat maple-based meals in pioneer-style cabins, boil their own syrup, and feel a “part of” the production processes themselves. Every Ottawa public school student is taken on a yearly field trip to the space; in working on this project, I began the process of digging through and beyond my own affective emotional and memory-based ties to “the sugar shack” and towards their wider cultural and political meaning(s).

Here is a link to my powerpoint presentation on my independent project.

Here is the link to my short story (a work in progress).

Workday and Rachel Sayet Visit | Friday, April 21

There is no better way to spend Earth Day than on the Farm! On Friday, April 22, students made their way from the Earth Day fair on Cross Campus to the Old Acre to participate in one of the last Friday workdays of the spring semester. In the prophaus, students propagated indigo, parsley, and basil plants. In the plot nearest Edwards Street, students prepped the soil and planted Green Wave and Red Giant mustards and collard seedlings. Students then watered the newly transferred plants, welcoming them to their new homes. Farm managers also took on the routine tasks of turning the compost and tending to the chickens, who are happy to be back on the Old Acre after a long winter away. 

Students had the opportunity to learn about agroforestry berm pollination with Raffa Sindoni, YSE ’23. While the Farm was alive with workday participants, under the Lazarus Pavilion, Rachel Sayet—a member of the Mohegan nation and an Indigenous educator, anthropologist, Reiki practitioner, and essential oil crafter—demonstrated how to make a dish from local forageable foods: fiddleheads, ramps, maitake mushrooms (Hen of the Woods), and sunflower oil. Rachel came to campus as part of Professor Debbie Coen’s Making Climate Knowledge first-year seminar. The ingredient Rachel cooked was then used as a pizza topping. In the company of friends and the Farm’s brilliantly colored tulips, students lingered extra long on Friday afternoon, listening to the student band Friends of Kanaan’s performance. 

Many thanks to all who attended. Photos of the event by Reese Neal ‘25 and Sarah Feng ‘25 can be found here. 

All Pib Slow Play: A sedimentation of history and sound | Friday, April 15th

On April 15th, 2022, from 3:00-5:00 P.M., the YSFP hosted a workday followed by an event called “All Pib Slow Play: A sedimentation of history and sound,” organized by  MFA student Miguel Gaydosh, SOA ‘22, which featured pibil style cooking. In the early afternoon, volunteers started off the workday by preparing for and planting strawberries. They used “flamethrowers” to cut perfectly shaped holes in a black tarp, laid the tarps over a lower field, and planted strawberries in the circular openings. Using silver rods, they pushed the yellowed, spindly roots of the nascent strawberries into the dirt and packed them in with their fingers into the wet mud, careful to leave the fragile web of roots intact and buried deep in the dirt, but the green bud at the top exposed to the sunlight. Long-time  and first-time workday participants squatted side by side over the bunched tarps and planted three rows of strawberries; conversation sprouted between graduate students at the School of  the Environment, farm managers, and first-years meeting each other for the first time. 

At 4:00 PM, volunteers migrated upwards to the Lazarus Pavilion, where the culinary events team had been hard at work preparing food for the event, alongside Guatemalan chef Sandra of La Cocina de Sandra, her husband, and her son. The family slow-cooked some truly spectacular food for the undergrads and many School of Art students in attendance. Throughout the event, Sandra stood supervising several large silver pots with an array of bowls full of chopped and diced vegetables, steam billowing out; she was working on preparing pupusas and tamales. In front of the Farm’s brick oven, culinary events managers heated up a silver tray full of cilantro and lime rice, slowly stirred a basin of beans, and cooked Guatemalan-style chow mein. At the wooden picnic tables, Catherine Rutherfurd ’22 mashed coconut rice pudding she made in a tray with gloved hands. Underneath our chalk sign sat a few pots of agua de jamaica (hibicus water). As all this culinary goodness unfolded, Miguel and his fellow students soundtracked the event with slowed Xumbia and ambient music, reflecting the slow cooking which was happening in the pib. 

Back behind all the action under the Lazarus Pavilion was the star of the event: the pib. Before the event began, culinary events managers took turns digging into the hardened earth to create a 3-feet-wide by 3-feet-deep pit. Once it was dug, the pit was lined with rings of stones stacked atop each other. The team then lit a fire at the bottom of the pib, which heated the stones for several hours and created tons of hot coals. Attendees dropped in sweet potatoes, wrapped in banana leaves and tinfoil, directly over the coals and rocks. Miguel and others then worked together to cover the potatoes with the soil, leaving them to cook underground for an hour. After digging up part of the pit and finding they weren’t yet fully cooked, we re-covered the potatoes with soil for another hour or so, letting them bake underground in the slow cooking pibil style. When the potatoes were finished, they were smothered in honey butter with Cobanero chili and lime. The event was a beautiful fulfillment of Miguel’s vision, which intended in part to teach, practice, and evolve a tradition long held by his Guatemalan family.

Big thank you to Miguel; Sandra and her family; Geo Barrios, who helped organize this event; and everyone who turned out to make this event such a beautifully unique and meaningful evening on the Farm. 

Photographs by Reese Neal ‘25. To view all the photos, please follow this link.

Post by Sarah Feng ‘25.