Engaged Learning and Teaching

The May term ended yesterday, and the students left Iowa returning to their homes in West Virginia, Washington, Florida, North Carolina, and South Carolina.  I have remained in the Hawkeye States for a few more days to bat clean up with my sister.  But I am taking a break from the mundane to reflect on this experience from my vantage point.

Furman touts its commitment to engaged learning, and it has done so for many years.  I was the University's first Director of Engaged Learning, serving in that post from 1997-2003.  During my professional career, I have served as the President of the Faculty Special Interest Group of the National Society for Experiential Education and the President of the Undergraduate Education Section of the American Political Science Association.  I've published essays on the importance of internships in enhancing the quality of undergraduate education, particularly among liberal arts students.  For many years, I've led Furman's mock trial program, a stellar example of transforming students from bench warmers to players in the learning process.

As a result of my previous involvement with experiential education, I am familiar with its principles.  Perhaps the most central tenent of the experiential pedagogy is that the professor moves being the "sage on the stage" to being a coach or a facilitator of learning.  Experiential educators believe that seeing, tasting, and participating in an activity, especially when coupled with significant reflection, leads to a richer learning experience, and one that has staying power for the students.  This kind of learning is often far messier than conducting a course in the classroom--the professor has a large amount of control over the content of the course, and the information contained in the course can be arranged in a logical fashion.  The traditional classroom makes ample use of deductive approaches, while students engaged in an experiential course typically employ inductive logic to make sense of their subject.  Experiential courses do not have disciplinary walls--the academy may be organized by subjects, but the world is not.

Nonetheless, my nearly 25 years of teaching and writing about experiential education did not adequately prepare me for what happened during Farm.

1. I truly could not be the sage on the stage because I do not know the agriculture policy area.  Often times, I think experiential educators can twist an experience for students because it is being arranged in a way that is deductive in orientation and reflects the professors' expertise in the area.  The distinct disadvantage I faced--not knowing the ag policy area--soon became an advantage.  I was learning along with the students.  While I had read and thought about the topic for more than a year that seemed a minor advantage.  That only meant that I knew the broad parameters of the topic.  The fact that I knew less about the subject's content, let the experience develop organically; I couldn't superimpose a logic over a subject area in which I was not the content expert.  I depended on others to help me decide which experiences should be included in the student's tour.  So experts were involved, but much less so than I envision in the typical course.

2. My students have discussed the many miles logged in the Roadmaster.  I never gave a thought to exactly how many miles we would be driving or what impact it would have on our learning environment.  My conclusion is that it made our group far stronger.  I was blessed to have students who were not divas, and they had a strong sense of who had sat on the hump in the front seat for the longest period of time.  There is something about being cramped in a car on a regular basis that provides a new dimension to the experience--and, it is especially memorable if you've just been processing chickens, inseminating pigs, or dairying!  Maybe my colleagues in the natural sciences or health sciences know about the impact of physicality on learning, but this was a very knew kind of learning for me, and I believe for me students.  I liked it--it enhanced the learning experience.

3. Furman is famous for its home-grown study away projects, but Farm pushed that definition even further.  Since the students lived in the farm house I own with my brother and sister, I was at one point a host as well as a professor.  Everyone in my family (sister, brother, brother-in-law, sister-in-law, nephew, and spouse) had a role in preparing the house for the students.  My sister assumed the role of house mother for three weeks, and she was amazing.  I took on the role of chauffeur driving the students to all of the sites and picking them up at the airport in Des Moines.  Our library was located at the house, and it consisted of all of the books on agricultural policy that I could pack into my car.  The bonus room in the house became the place that we met for reflection and discussion sessions--the living room was where we viewed the many videos watched during the term.  Farm was most assuredly a "home-grown" study away experience.  

4. I am still working through how the teaching experience was different because it was so deeply personal.  To share a portion of your life's experience with your students is a component of any good course, especially at an institution that prides itself on developing personal relationships between a faculty member and a student.  Farm, however, meant sharing the place where you grew up.  It is a level of exposure of one's self that is atypical and somewhat intimidating. And, add into the mix that you also are exposing your siblings to this kind of scrutiny.  "Teaching" with my sister and brother and having their voices included was one of the real blessings of the course--not because we agreed, but because it gave the students a varied view farm life.  Add in one's neighbors and friends, who also have stories to tell, and well, one's life becomes quite an open book.   And the impact of the experience is hardly uni-directional from the "adults" to the students.  The experience also had an impact on my view of the past--literally writing and rewriting one's own past.  But if one is going to truly understand the way in which an agricultural community operates, it starts with the way in which family and neighbor networks operate.  And for the students to understand something about community, it means exposing them to these complex interrelationships, even if the interrelationships are those which directly involve the professor of record.  I suspect sociologists steeped in qualitative methodologies would say that I am both the phenomenon as well as the investigator of the phenomenon.

5. It is unclear to me how living in a house for a period of three weeks (with no opportunity to leave) has an impact on the learning experience.  But it does strike me as a unique aspect of the course.  The students had to learn to live with some serious constraints, and, yet, they did so.  I think that they learned a great deal about themselves as a result of living together, preparing food together, and studying together.  The students, too, were exposed to their professor in a way that is highly unusual.  Again, I am unsure of the impact on the learning environment, except that my provisional assessment is a positive one.

6. This course required that I was often a student--listening to lectures, presentations, etc.  What an amazing experience to be on the other side of the podium after so many years.  It was humbling to think about how to improve the quality of one's own teaching by observing others, and also to engage students about which presentations were more effective in their minds and why.

I am confident that over time, I'll think of more ways in which Farm pushed the envelope of my thinking about teaching in general and the experiential pedagogy in particular.  But for now, these are my musings.

The Portrait's Final Stroke

The stinging sensation along the range of my right forearm has been a nagging reminder of actions five hours past. Though the nettles, applied for their medicinal properties, have long been removed, their namesake continues to drag my attention to the slowly shrinking, pulsing blisters where their barbs still inject venom to my veins. Through the annoyance (calling the feeling “painful” is a gross overstatement), thoughts flutter wondering how much longer the tingling will last. Effectively, my arm is awake yet feels asleep as if its circulation has been cut off, begging for restoration of its lifeblood. Similar to a blood deprived appendage, only time will heal the nettle's caress.

Although time heals self-inflicted toxins, time also ages and refines experiences. Beyond the nettle poisons coursing through my veins, these past three weeks, filled with boar semen, soil snorting, crunched legs in a compacted car and the associated aching pains, wind turbine induced insight, and countless other events, short or long, mundane or extrasensory, comforting or offensive, are also subject to the ravages of time. How will I reminisce upon the people, places, smells, events, and the host of other factors? To predict whether the memory of corn (will it be green or blue in my mind ten years from now?) is outside of my prowess. The sands of time bury remnants of former glories, tarnishing their pastel colors into shades of muted monochromatic grays. Impermanence is a key feature of reality; none shall escape its grasp as memories muffle no matter the strength of the stimulus whether it be a worn picture, a vaguely familiar scent, or rediscovering these very musings now being typed in spite of the nettle's tantalizing grip. All such aspects are eroded by the patient sands of time, the fragments whisked away in the winds.

However, do such thoughts on the future matter? The below poem comes to mind:

He who binds to himself a joy

Doth the winged life destroy;

But he who kisses the joy as it flies

Lives in eternity's sunrise.

-William Blake

The only tense where life transpires is the present. The past is always a step behind, and the future is always a step ahead no matter the pace. Hence, I now contemplate (a boon distinctly human) over what to make of yet another frame becoming immutable history. Murky stew within the mental cauldron is stirred and stirred waiting for something...anything to arise from its hazy depths. Another series of interrelated occurrences is slowly but artfully being kneaded into itself and all the other bygone days to be baked into a loaf that displays its flavor in every bite. The kneading metaphor is more accurate than the chapter metaphor for describing the end of the old and the return of the new for chapters, by nature, create barriers whereas kneading bread has no barriers. All the ingredients and motions become one with the loaf; the wheat cannot be separated from the yeast, salt, or any other ingredient. By kneading, all these aspects become interconnected with one another even when an entirely new event is mixed in.

However, it is not enough to describe how these three weeks have affected me. Such thoughts are dealt with whenever a mirror is present! Although there is much to mull over within my internal world, a forgotten aspect of events needs mentioning. The reason behind its dismissal is simple; the world we interact with is seen only from one perspective: our own. Never can we see the world through the guise of another (hence why many are sympathetic but few are empathetic). Therefore, we forget that not only do occurrences move us, but we move all factors of an event: the people, the interpretation of that event, and even the event itself! With that in mind comes the true challenge: thinking beyond the self. How have I affected all components of these three weeks, soon to be time-locked and outside of my grasp? How have I altered the course of other people I have ran into even if for the briefest second or the longest hour? How have I manipulated the itinerary of these three weeks whether through my own connections or by simply showing up a few minutes early or late? How have I changed the world around me by rummaging around in dirt, killing burdock, or reanimating chicken corpses for comic relief?

Of the three above-mentioned questions (though there are certainly many more), the first racks my mind most profusely. Although few realize it, every single action, from a convoluted discussion on nothing down to a simple hand gesture, influences those around. Subsequently, the question of what impact, how strong, and many others arise like bubbles emitted by a fish in a placid pond. Due to the interconnected nature of reality, these questions are omnipresent to those who desire to see them. Though it is beyond me to provide answers to such thoughts, I can, however, provide an old parable with a modern twist:

A father and mother return home to a carbon monoxide leak with their children still within the now deadly dwelling. Fearing for the safety of their offspring, the parents call out desperately, warning the kids of the danger. However, the children, not knowing the gravity of the situation, since the noxious gas is tasteless, odorless, and otherwise undetectable through the five senses, do not heed the warning and continue playing, oblivious of the danger. Time agonizingly passes while the parents' ill-fated pleas go unanswered. Then, in their darkest hour, the parents conjure a solution. Now, they call out to the children, appealing to their love of games and toys, a penchant all kids have, instead of to a mysterious malevolence. The children quickly rush out of the death trap unaware of its true nature to the rejoicing parents.

Skill in means: knowing what, when, and how to perform an action to attain a desired result, is something to be struggled for and an ability that I strive for so then the above questions need not to be asked much like how a builder does not question how to drive a nail into a board; it is as natural as breathing.

A foot leaves a print upon wet sand, while the sand leaves grains upon the foot. In this vein, these three weeks have impacted me a great deal, ranging from my thoughts on agriculture (no matter how it is cut, farming is terribly difficult) to my self-development, while my impact upon these three weeks shrouds itself behind a veil of mystery. All I can wish for is that my presence and the skill in means I employed achieved positive goals and assisted those in need (to whom that is remains beyond my knowledge) because the events, people, and all other aspects of these three weeks were momentously meaningful and indescribable for me (and a one-way relationship is not desirable).

Very soon will come the wind to take me wherever it pleases. Though it is an amazing transporter, the likelihood of returning to any particular spot is nigh-impossible. Hence, all I can do is be open to it, taking these experiences away to new lands to be applied to new situations. Now, I sit and wait for the wind...as I always have...as I always will.

Goodbye Iowa

At 6:30 A.M tomorrow morning, I will be departing Iowa. I am very excited to get home and get back to my routines at home, but man these three weeks have provided lots of opportunities to gain insights into farming.  I feel so blessed to have met the people I have and learned so much during the past three weeks. It has definitely been an experience from riding in the Roadmaster, meeting Kelvin Leibold, and artificially inseminating sows--but nonetheless, those experiences added some spark to the trip.

I thought it was particularly spectacular to meet the Iowa Secretary of Agriculture, Bill Northey. Not many people get the opportunity to meet someone of such high ranking in politics.  Given that Iowa is second in the nation in agriculture, he has a pretty important job. It was really fun getting to ask questions about things we have been hearing during our time in Iowa. He was very open to talk to us and an extremely nice guy. I honestly could have spent several hours asking him questions, but unfortunately he is an important man with a busy agenda!  I was thankful for the 30 minutes that he took with us--extraordinarily gracious.

I really enjoy how relaxed about life everyone is here in Iowa. It is such a calming atmosphere. We have gotten to ride in the back of the pick up on a couple of occasions, and we even got to enjoy a hay ride at the Bontrager farm, which really reminds me of the country. Although, I am ready for civilization, I'm not gonna lie--I will definitely miss the serenity of the windmills. 

As I leave Iowa, I will admit I support conventional farming probably even more then when I arrived. I have definitely learned a lot about organic farming, which has made me more open to it, but I do not fully support it. It seems to still have several flaws within it that will have to be worked out over time. Since there is so much controversy over "What is Organic?" I am going to wait a little while until Organic is really defined. I do think I am going to invest in the Furman CSA next school year; I mean, who doesn't like fresh vegetables?? 

This trip has definitely been a life changing experience for me. I left home with zero interest in agriculture and our cattle business at home and now I am returning excited to drive the tractor around and manage my small cattle herd. My parents are ecstatic, and I am ready for a little adventure. If we have learned nothing else, we have definitely learned farming and livestock seem to always involves some excitement! 

I am very thankful for Dr. HN for putting this program together and spending his May with us! I am also thankful for Ms. Nancy and Dave, her husband, for spending their May with us and taking care of us. They always make sure we are happy and all of our needs are taken care of! This trip has truly been an unforgettable experience! 

Iowa: Corny but True

The day before the flight that brings me home.

New thoughts, ideas, and concepts buzz around

My head, though an opinion still does roam

Resulting from our studies of the ground.

I ponder what to tell them of my trip.

Perhaps the glory of the life bestowed

In puppies, piglets, calves, and seeds that grip

The soil. And speakers from much different roads.

Or shall I tell them of the crazy days

Like those consumed with smell of pig manure,

And early morn's where coffee only fades the haze.

Or people I think sanity's unsure.

Though speedy winds will give me no reprieve 

From Iowa I do not wish to leave

Family farming

Over the time that I've been here, I've noticed that many family farmers are wondering which of their children will take over the farm. Some kids already show interest; others need some prodding. The 4H club is a way for parents to get their kids started by participating in various farm-related things such as showing animals, researching animals or plants, cooking, or other "farm" related tasks. This  is a good way for kids to learn responsibility and the ability to speak in front of a judge, which are good skills for later in life. It is interesting though how parents want to push this on their children when the goal is for them to take over the family farm. It is almost as though the child has to fulfill a destiny; one of the children has to take over the farm or else it will go under or go into another company or person's hands. There is a great responsibility that the kids of farmers bear without even choosing to do so in the first place. Sure, the kids could say that they don't want to farm, but there is the pressure from their parents and the kids want to live up to the parents' expectations that could sway them to stay and work on the farm. I'm not saying that no child of a farmer dreams of becoming a farmer, but that it is a responsibility that they carry from the moment they are born. This must bring a interesting family dynamic to the table.

Another thing to consider is the strain it might put on a farm marriage. If things are going poorly such as the farm crisis in the 1980s, fighting will ensue over the family's finances--always a popular topic for marital disputes. Again the issue of the kids will rise. One parent might not want to push their kids towards farming, and another fight would arrise. This is another example of how farming has and never will be an easy lifestyle. The wife and husband might also differ in their opinion of how the farm should be run, what should be purchased, and/or whether the farm should be operated as an organic or commodity entity.

Sadly, I have no personal experience with this family dynamic, but it would be a fascinating topic for a psychological study. Farm families have to deal with the traditional pressures of life in addition to the family strains of farming. You also have to take into account that farming as a family would be able to bring everyone together. Also, take into account how well off the farmers are on their land, and how well the sales are for that year. As I've said before, I am actually rather sad that their aren't more psychological studies about farming and farm families. Farmers may constitute an extraordinarily small portion of our country's population, but these people are in charge of our food system, and we need to better under the psychology of those who make up this critical sector of our economy.

The Honorable Annette Sweeney

Today, I was fortunate enough to follow Representative Annette Sweeney to Parkersburg, Iowa Falls, and Buckeye. She attended four Memorial Day services and was the keynote speaker for two of the services.  She also attended her hometown's Memorial Day cookout.

I started out the day leaving the farm house at 5:55 A.M to meet up with her, her son, and her campaign manager at her farm down the road. We left the house around 6:30 and had an hour drive to Parkersburg, Iowa. We then enjoyed a pancake breakfast that was put on by the American Legion POST 285. It was delicious, and I really enjoyed it. There were three Memorial Day services in Parkersburg. The first was done by a river, and a wreath was placed out on the river to float away. The other two services were done beside a cemetery. All three services included a gun salute. She spoke at the third service. Her message was very touching, and everyone seem to enjoy it. Her speeches were delivered with great passion and they evoked emotions in those in the audience, and those emotions connected her connect to the people.

After the third service was completed at Parkersburg, we traveled to Iowa Falls, where a memorial service similar to the last service at Parkersburg was held. She spoke once again evoking the same powerful and moving themes and delivering it in a manner that reached out to people. All of the services included a high school band playing the "Star Spangled Banner."  Both times after she spoke, her son Jim sang "God Bless America" with the crowd joining.

The service in Iowa Falls was over around 11:30 and then we took off to stop and get some food at Hy-Vee to take to the annual Memorial Day picnic in her hometown of Buckeye. There I got to meet her neighbors and friends. Everyone socialized and had a great time!

I had a great time shadowing Representative Sweeney. I learned a great deal about the characteristics of a great leader that I can use at Furman and beyond, especially since I hope to one day be involved in politics.  I hope I can be as successful as Representative Sweeney. She has so much fire and determination; it amazes me. She really tries to please the people, which is characteristic of a great politician. I can't wait to see the results of her primary race. I will definitely be rooting for her from North Carolina and hopefully I can stay in contact with her for many years to come!

A Multitude of Perspectives

My relative neutrality of opinion (or simple ignorance) on the subject of agriculture actually served to better my absorption of the wide variety of  viewpoints that we have encountered over the course of three weeks in Iowa. If I had entered the state with established opinions on any of the topics covered, I would have had little difficulty in simply blocking out contrasting perspectives and feeding on those in accordance with my beliefs. Thankfully, I  possessed the capacity to hear out both sides from a relatively neutral standpoint and the ability to make up my own mind on the matter. Following nearly three weeks of reflection, my opinions have formed in a way similar to the irritatingly vague conclusions of Patrick Westhoff in our text, The Economics of Food.

Although humans prefer the security of a concrete and well-established conclusion, the majority of issues surrounding modern agricultural debates remain multifaceted and complex - no simple answers are available. Nearly every person or organization we met presented a diverse but valid set of facts and a well-constructed message.  A great deal of overlap existed between many speakers. For example, the Iowa Corn Growers Association and the Iowa Soybean Association shared several common goals, one of which centered on lobbying for a higher gas tax in the state to fund infrastructure development. After all, a functioning rural infrastructure aids farmers in delivering both corn and soybeans to the market.

Environmental groups oftentimes demonize production agriculture; however, farmers who actively engage in such practices usually acknowledge their flaws and work with environmentalists towards a cooperative solution.  Many commodity farmers stressed the importance of environmental protection in the form of nitrogen reduction and soil conservation techniques; such practices are quite common here in Iowa. Groups such as the ISA's On-Farm Network and Practical Farmers of Iowa (PFI) actively engage farmers and allow them to participate in the research and decision making process. The Environmental Defense Fund (EDF) collaborates with such groups in a constructive manner, compromising with agriculture groups and delivering results. Without discussion from both sides, issues will never be resolved. Our gridlocked Congress ought to observe the cooperation going on in Iowa between diverse interest groups and take note.

No one person professed a singular and all-inclusive solution to the future of agricultural production. Instead, everyone acknowledged the need for cooperation and a diverse market. Production agriculturalists praised organic and sustainable growers for meeting a growing market demand while expressing concern for the viability of large-scale food production using such methods. Sustainable growers (such as those at the Wallace Farm) criticized many aspects of commodity farming, but also acknowledged the inherent difficulties of their practices as well. Both sides also expressed displeasure at current methods of government regulation and funding for various initiatives.

Over the duration of nearly three weeks in Iowa I have been exposed to a staggering quantity of information in a wide variety of formats, from classroom-style lectures to hands-on activities. I entered this experience looking to gain the information necessary to make my own mind up on agricultural policy. No doubt I have enough information to formulate informed opinions; however, sifting through all of it to arrive at a cohesive viewpoint will prove to be a difficult task.

Shout Outs to the Family and Friends

Memorial Day in the Garden City/Radcliffe area is commemorated by services at the Garden City, Zion Lutheran Church, and Radcliffe cemeteries.  Members of the local American Legion conduct each service, and this year, Farm's Sam Burgess, offered to serve as the trumpeter.  Sam is an accomplished music student; he holds a music scholarship at Furman, and he spent two summers with the Boston Crusaders, a drum and bugle corps.  All was well until, I discovered that I locked the keys in the car that contained Sam's trumpet.  All of this was discovered at the very last minute, so the ceremonies at Garden City and Zion were conducted sans trumpet.  Due to the resourcefulness of community members, however, two trumpets were produced by the time of the final ceremony at Radcliffe, and Sam's beautiful rendition of "Taps" and "The Star Spangled Banner" sang out above the Radcliffe cemetery.

So much of this trip has been a time of discovery and rediscovery.  Today, I learned that veterans of both the Confederacy and the Union are buried in the Radcliffe cemetery.  The amazing sacrifices of so many were made clear by the moving memorials at all three cemeteries.

There were three stars today--Dennis Friest, our neighbor, Denny, my brother, and my friend, Morris Stole. Herr Friest  secured trumpets by the time we arrived in Radcliffe; he also found a way to conduct the ceremonies in Radcliffe and Zion in a seamless manner; Denny, my brother, finally unlatched the lock to my car door.  There were times when it looked like it might require breaking a window, so I was thankful that a less invasive method worked.  Morris took Sam and me to the Zion and Radcliffe cemeteries.  The folks out here live in a community, and I was reminded of that fact, again.

Feeding the World?

Commodity agriculture farmers and organizations note that organic farming methods cannot feed the world. To save the starving and hungry, we must have embrace an agriculture that produces greater yields on fewer acres of land.  To accomplish this, they say, we must have GMO seeds that have greater yield rates and pesticides/herbicides that kill off everything that may have a negative impact on crop yield. Organic would not be able to produce sufficient yields so that no one goes hungry.  No one wants to feel like they are causing people to go hungry, so they would obviously side with this idea if they were given no other option. This clever argument appeals to our humanity.

I, however, must disagree. For example when the group was listening to presentations by the Corn Growers Association, the "feed-the-world" argument was brought up, but all the while I was thinking how a good chunk of the corn produced now goes to ethanol or some sort of fuel product. All the corn fields that we have seen are filled with corn that is not edible; that corn goes to making ethanol and making feed for stock animals. While you could argue that corn eventually feeds the world because corn feeds the animals, and humans eat animals or animal byproducts, remember that the people who are starving and hungry don't usually eat all that much meat. Meat is expensive, and the diet of the poor and hungry consists of staple foods usually consisting of different grains and vegetables. However, another argument could be that corn produces high fructose corn syrup that goes into a lot of different consumable items, and, while that is also true, I can imagine due to the fact that corn syrup is a sweetener these items would not be of any good nutritional value and offer no major sustenance for the body.

Patrick Westhoff, author of The Economics of Food, brought up the interesting fact that while the percentage of the world's undernourished population has declined over time, the number of hungry people has remained consistently high. According to a FAO report mentioned in the book, the total number of hungry people might exceed 1 billion in 2009. Food production has increased drastically, so one would think that this would cause a lower percentage of hungry people. While the answer to this riddle is not so simple, it is interesting to ponder how the corn industry is heightening production in the name of saving the hungry; however, the number of the hungry people is still increasing.

So in the end, while the corn association claims to be feeding the world, it is clearly not succeeding. Again, solving world hunger is not simple, so I don't expect it to be done overnight. However with that argument being repeated over and over again, I would expect that the production of corn would have lowered the amount of hungry people by at least a few thousand persons. I admit I am somewhat biased, considering all the farm lands I have seen up to this point that plant GMOs and apply pesticides, have not produced a substantial amount of consumable produce. But one must wonder why the people who produce corn that is inedible by humans make the case for feeding the world so often. 

Dust in the Wind

I don't know how many of you will recognize this song by Kansas, but it has been stuck in my head for the past week. The scary thing is that the more I think about the song the more emblematic it becomes of my stay in Iowa. Feel free to look up the music video on YouTube, but I provide the lyrics below:

I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment's gone

All my dreams pass before my eyes, a curiosity

Dust in the wind

All they are is dust in the wind

Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea

All we do crumbles to the ground though we refuse to see

Dust in the wind

All we are is dust in the wind 

Oh, ho, ho

Now, don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky

It slips away, and all your money won't another minute buy

Dust in the wind 

All we are is dust in the wind

All we are is dust in the wind

Dust in the wind

Everything is dust in the wind

Everything is dust in the wind

The wind

Besides the blistering winds in Iowa, this song reminds me a great deal of the farmers and corporations that I mentioned in a previous post. The farmers that we have met have a dream--be it small or grand, but they have a dream nonetheless. Many just dream of being able to sustain their family; others wish to affect society by “feeding the world.”  Many of the farmers though are so obsessed with getting the biggest yields and getting bigger, better, faster that they refuse to see how it is affecting the soil. The soil is a living thing, and their soil is dead from all the tilling, pesticides, and insecticides. All the soil is just dust in the wind, blowing away due to its lack of moisture and body.

I feel like a lot of the farmers forget their soil has become dust for a reason, because of the way they are treating it. They just put fertilizer on it hoping that a small band aid will fix the problem. Again, “ all we do crumbles to the ground though we refuse to see."  Another main problem with this is that the farmers are not thinking long term. I believe most aren’t thinking of how their soil will be 10, 20, 50 years from now when they are dead and gone. The fertilizer is just a temporary fix.  To have sustainable soil you have to nurture it and keep it alive. Fifty years from now when we are just dust in the wind, the earth will still be here and will be in whatever condition it was before they put fertilizer on the dust. Their livelihood will be blown away. It’s a rather dismal prospect, but it can be changed.

I don’t mean to be harping on farmers, but we have to remember that when we are all dead and gone, the earth will still be here and our children or relatives will have to deal with the consequences.

To smell Guanxi (connections)

Scarcely a day has passed since yet another trek across Iowa has transpired. Bodily aches, cramps, and pains have vanished although joints, tendons, and ligaments have long memories and cringe at the very thought of the unpleasant experience. In spite of such physical tribulations, the previous journey was successfully completed as will any future voyages be it brief or arduous. However, being squeezed and pressed together like extracting olive oil from hardened seeds is implicitly connected to these three weeks along with all the other excursions and memories. Any personal space issues have been neatly resolved or, at least, compressed and excreted as sweat (hence it cannot be sold as 'cold pressed'). Digressions aside, the undercurrent of all these events is omnipresent yet is a mere wafting wind only seen when it moves a wind turbine: nonexistent but deeply significant: the interconnectedness of reality.

Although many instances of the underlying theme of this trip, if not reality itself, has presented itself through the guises of guard llamas with poor dental health to ballads lamenting government influence in agriculture with lyrics ranging from complete isolationism to misguided, ill-fated attempts at helping farmers and the environment utilizing direct payments, subsidized crop insurance, and other interventions. Every farmer has a song that is quickly performed on cue it seems; however, these songs share the very same hidden current that has defined this trip whether unintentional or otherwise.

One of the more obvious manifestations of the rhythm of reality was on Galen Bontrager's farm, located in Eastern Iowa, far from Des Moines. Whether it was impaling chicken carcasses on PVC pipes or walking in a healthy pasture filled with a variety of grasses, herbs, and greenery not found in a typical suburban lawn, interconnection avoided explicit mention but was vitally important. As briefly alluded to, there was a llama, who guarded the sheep, and a dog who protected the chickens; both animals were ingrained into their respective herds, being an inseparable aspect of the operation. Personified by the smell of the soil, which actually smelled of dirt and not the devoid, scentless substance that many believe it to be, interconnection made an unmistakable surface appearance in an artfully mundane guise that would have been easily overlooked.

Being one of three characteristics of reality, interconnection is vastly significant but generally overlooked and swept under the rug along with impermanence and discomfort, the other two key defining aspects (hence society's innate obsession with death, pain killers, and the like), much like smelly soil. Reality is similar to a spider's web: a vibration on the far corners reverberates throughout the entire web itself, no matter how trivial the stimulus (Internet memes spring to mind). However, since all beings live with the web constantly vibrating, we become desensitized to its motions, ignoring and suppressing the jarring feeling to maintain some sort of sanity, trying to stay afloat like a mere leaf weathering the rapids of a nervous river current. Due to this feigned ignorance, we become inward looking creatures, focused upon the immediate perspective nearest to us: the tidal waves we cannot ignore (hence why the death of a single person is a tragedy but the death of millions is a statistic as Stalin once proclaimed). Though this mentality saves us, it is only temporary as each strand of the web of reality cannot be independent or it would fall to the abyss. Through the guise of culture, we are told two values: one of the self-made millionaire who is happy and surrounded by material goods and a seemingly conflicting story of the selfless person who is happy due to charitable acts and the like. Although these two ideals seem at odds with one another, interconnection, along with the other two characteristics of reality, declares them to be non-dualistic. Reality is a bucket with a hole in the bottom filled with sand that when left alone does not drain but when more sand is added drains to equilibrium. The sand acts as its own plug much like the two ideals preached by culture: a balance is acquired that sustains this non-antagonistic conflict and any other (even the disbelief of the three aspects of reality!).

Diversions aside, interconnection has been an omnipresent shadow cast by multiple sources but usually overlooked unless it is directly overhead. Though there are few certainties, the web of the way displays this fundamental nature of reality through wind turbines, pig semen, and a host of other forgotten aspects. To look for interconnection is a simply complex task, requiring an openness to its vibrations everywhere they originate from the smells of the soil to foreign sweat pressed up against another arm. Many have become dislocated from these sensations or categorize them neatly in little boxes to be revealed out of context later on (which is the reason why my posts have disavowed pictures).

If anything, I have acquired a deep respect for farmers whether they practice commodity farming or alternative farming, steeped in dogma or open to new ideas, and/or have succeeded or failed miserably, for they have an understanding of interconnection that few others could ever possess. Being tied to weather patterns, government policy, the will of speculators, and many other factors beyond their control, farmers realize their situation is generally outside of their control, something that few others can comprehend. Unlike many others, farmers seem not to despair over this fact that would make many wage earners unsightly twitch. Yet, here I am avidly pursuing a seemingly foreign entity with only glimmers of success and rarely grasping the sand, only to watch it fall between my fingers, forever lost somewhere on the beach of reality!

Learning To Embrace It

I'll be honest, when I left home a little over two weeks ago I didn't know what I thought about spending three weeks in Iowa learning about farming and agriculture. I grew up around livestock, so I have constantly heard about market prices, agricultural regulations, farm land, and challenges my parents face everyday dealing with their cattle businesses for as long as I can remember. Truthfully, I got tired of hearing all about cattle and the problems that came along with the business. By the time I hit 7th grade, I wished I lived in town and my parents had a normal nine to five job. I should have never complained considering cattle paid for me to attend private schools all my life and for my horse show life that entailed traveling over the United States.

As I started college, I had learned to accept that my parents were cattle brokers and I was thankful it paid for my college education, but I didn't want anything to do with it. Since I was officially a young adult, my parents thought I was old enough to learn how the cattle business worked. My mom helped me get a beginners farmers loan from the FSA, so I could buy my own cattle, hoping that if I had my own cattle I would have more interest in it. I did start to learn how things the work, but unfortunately it didn't increase my interest significantly.  I had in my mind that I wanted to be a lawyer, have a office, and live in town, perhaps on the water. In my head, there was no room for cattle in that equation.

Now as I sit in Iowa, after just finishing my sophomore year in college, I finally have realized farming isn't so bad. Since I have been on this trip I have learned to appreciate the occupation and I realized how lucky I was to grow up understanding it. I am ready to really learn how to work and manage my cattle instead of running from it.  Most people have no idea where their food comes from nor do they understand how conventional farming works. I never realized how much I had picked up from my parents or learned from them over the years. I also worked so hard to block out what they taught me about farming that I had failed to realize how much knowledge I had actually picked up. I am now proud to say I grew up with an agricultural back ground, and I hope that I can make it a part of my future. I don't want to be a full time cattle broke or farmer, but I would like to have some cows of my own that I keep on the farms that I will get to inherit from my parents. I also realize it may not be so bad to be a cell phone farmer and manage my farms by phone in my law office.

I'm not sure if it was seeing all the family farms here in Iowa and hearing their stories or learning about Dr. HN's story that really made me realize I shouldn't be running away from such a special occupation. I feel blessed to understand the business and have an opportunity to contribute something to it, even if it is not my full time job.

Diversity and Unity

The students and I have seen an amazing diversity of farms since arriving in Iowa on May 9th.  Iowans have invited us to their operations whether large and small.  Even among the farms that the owners would classify as small, however, there is significant diversity.  As one farmer put it succinctly, "Put three farmers in a room and you'll have three opinions about best practices, and none is better than the other.  It is what works for that farmer."  There are some themes, however, that unite these farms--whether small, large, organic, conventional, livestock, row crops, or vegetables--all of them are under pressure to be profitable.  I don't recall a single farmer who failed to discuss, in some fashion, the economics of the operation.  Profits go hand-in-hand with the decision to pursue a particular environmental practice or to pursue more time-consuming measures such as raising one's chickens in a free-range environment; it also means, however, that some compromises will be made, the decision, for example, of two operations to raise free-range eggs that were not organic.  The price of organic feed raised the price point of profitability above that which could be commanded in the marketplace.  All farmers face challenges with the marketing of their products whether matching the demand for pork raised under Niman Ranch standards or watching the extraordinary volatility in the grain markets, a point underscored during our visit with Iowa Secretary of Agriculture Bill Northey.

All farmers that we've met with have discussed strategies to survive the extraordinary challenges of working in a sector in which the producers are very often the price takers rather than the price makers.  Many farmers have noted that farming is a gamble, but none so poignantly as Randy Knapp of Epworth who quipped that "He didn't need to go to the casino because every day that he got up and walked to his dairy barn, it was a gamble." 

So why do it?  You can see it on the face of these folks--they absolutely love what they do, and they cannot imagine a life without their animals or land.  It may be a business, but at the end of the day, it is a way of life, one that all farm families see as ennobling.  Whatever their role in the food production system, they view their farms in transcendent terms.  And nearly all of those farms we have visited are thinking about ways to keep their children involved in farming, so that the family farm survives to another generation.

Things I've Learned About Iowa

"Iowa (Traveling III)" by Dar Williams has always been one of my favorite songs, from the first time I heard it. Though it's not all about traveling in Iowa, her haunting way of melodically moving through the chorus has been in the back of my mind pretty much ever since I got accepted into this trip.

I tried to keep my mind relatively clear of expectations before I embarked upon my three-week journey, and especially as much of our schedule was not confirmed until the last minute, it's seemed, this was relatively easy to do.

We still have a few days of learning left, but we are nearing the end of our journey. Wednesday, everything will be over, and I will head back very temporarily to West Virginia before moving on to the next phase of my life as a Teach for America corps member.

I'm not one to generalize, but I have made the following conclusions about the people and places we've seen over the last 2 1/2 weeks:

1. Iowa is flat, but not as flat as you may think. Depending on where you are in the state, you might see flat plains for miles or even gently rolling hills. It's sure not West Virginia, but it is pretty.
2. People tend to speak with a slight accent that I may only describe as "Iowan," pronouncing words like drought and roots as "drowth" and "rutz."
3. Iowans like to tell their stories.
4. Stop signs are optional. Gravel roads are common. It gets very dusty when it's dry.
5. Iowa is WINDY, especially in the afternoons and in certain regions.
6. Iowa is the #1 producer of corn, soybeans, pork, and eggs. They are in the top 10 in cattle production.

I've learned much more than the above, mostly about agriculture, food, and production. However, this list of 5 is what I will take away from Iowa as a traveler.

Writer's Block: Insight into Insight

Even with the hissing wind wafting a wonderfully familiar scent of swine, the dry spell continues much to the dismay of farmers who desperately need rain for a bountiful crop. Though there has been a consistent tapestry of clouds ranging from light and puffy to ominous and bleak, rain has not been successfully summoned. In spite of all the required elements: a thick, murky blob of cloud, persistent, bursting gales, a warm, sticky temperature, and, most importantly, dismayed farmers stirring up resentment at aspects beyond their control, an anticipated, biblical downpour has been elusive, charging speculators, agronomists, and, of course, farmers. Anxious is a simplification as conversations numbering the expected number of raindrops have began or at least referenced this lack of moisture. Despite human ability, nature is the blind arbiter of a successful yield even more so than the government, free market, or copious amounts of ammonia.

In a similar vein, the struggle for insight is one outside of discriminating intellect. Much like rain, disease, or any other phenomenon escaping human subjugation, insight cannot be channeled through runic incantations, chemical injections, or any other manipulative desire. Although events beyond imagination have occurred throughout this adventure, none of them wield the mantle of inspiration as it seems insight is beyond such events and occurs as it pleases, spiting best efforts otherwise. Spontaneity is self-explanatory. Visiting a free range chicken operation and participating in the morning chores was an experience, however, it did not spawn insight though nondiscrimination was my mindset. Neither witnessing chickens swarm at a broken egg, devouring it in mere seconds, nor seeing the chicken pariahs who were attacked by their 700 or so peers and subsequently isolated for survival's sake, triggered an internal revelation. Hours of meditation while in cars, rooms, discussions, cooking, or any other activity, have brought tranquility, serenity, and calm but not insight.

Unlike the farmers' frustration, the lack of insight into reality has failed to be a bother...until writing this particular post. Even now, the elusive inspiration has not completely blocked this endeavor but rather forced it to take an alternate, if longer, route. Nondiscrimination has gripped my thought patterns for some time with only twitches of discrimination peppering it on occasion. Though insight appears to lie somewhere in the murky depth of nondiscrimination, it only reveals itself when required much like a stage magician reappearing only after anticipation has adequately built up. Although this case of writer's block could be viewed as detrimental, I view it as a progression through the entanglement of unbiased fulfillment. Similar to an equestrian, insight only grips the reins when necessary. Hence, its temporary disappearance implies a proper trajectory as I have not been drawn towards wind turbines, pig semen, or any other unorthodox stimuli as of late. For now, it seems the white path is being skillfully navigated between the roaring river of water and flame, heading towards the last instance of insight. So long as discriminating factors such as bias, statistics, science, and other dualistic aspects remain at bay (still present but not as a finality), so shall insight as it does not present itself needlessly.  

Iowa State and "Science"

As a proud graduate of the University of Iowa, my foray into farming and farm policy has necessarily meant a great deal of interaction with graduates of Iowa State, the Hawkeye State’s land grant university.  I expected to experience considerable ribbing as alma mater lost the Hawkeye-Cyclone football game last year, in triple-overtime, no less!  While the many Cyclones that I met during this trip have not disappointed me on that point, I have realized that Iowa State carries a big punch in the state.  As it turns out, Moo U and its agriculture college graduates and faculty rank as incredibly important players in shaping the nation’s food system as well as that of the world.  Curt Ellis and Ian Cheney, the stars of King Corn, showed that the discoveries of Iowa State researchers were among the reasons that catapulted corn into its lofty status as the King of Plants.   Ellis and Cheney’s perspective seems understated compared to our experience—even though the now-famous duo spent plenty of time with members of the Cyclone nation. 

Iowa State’s graduates have been well trained in production agriculture and in defending that perspective.  Even more importantly, however, whether discussing GMOs, CAFOS (both in terms of pork and poultry), pesticide, herbicide, and fungicide use, or manure management, ISU provides the “science” to back why a particular practice is not harmful or even desirable.  And devotees of Iowa State are quick to wed their pride of alma mater to the science produced by the University to back commodity agriculture.  Of course, large agribusiness concerns (whether Cargill, ADM, or Monsanto) are deeply involved in the financing of the agriculture college.   Reduced research budgets from state and federal governments necessarily mean that scholars are looking for research dollars in other places, and I must say that it is concerning to see this kind of potential for corporate control of the “science” that is regularly touted to back commodity agriculture.  The result is that I’ve become increasingly concerned about whether “science” is really very helpful in making decisions about the future of food policy. 

Production agriculture advocates favor controlling Mother Nature and bending her will to produce crops that have higher yields and can be produced more economically.  Iowa State and her graduates have been at the forefront of the mechanical , biological, and chemical revolution that has transformed farming since WWII.  And while the University has clearly pushed its finger on production agriculture side of the scale, it has not ignored sustainable agriculture—Iowa State, after all, does have the only graduate program in sustainable agriculture in the nation.  And one should not take lightly the many contributions to sustainable ag policy brought forward by the Aldo Leopold Center, also housed at ISU.  As with so much of agriculture policy, there is lot of evidence to back one's initial working hypothesis--in this case that Iowa State and Big Agriculture are attached at the hip--but it is also is clear that there are programs, faculty, and students in Ames who are strongly committed to sustainable agriculture. 

I'll still cheer for Iowa, but this experience has utterly transformed my view of Iowa State.  It may be the cow college, but my initial analysis shows that it wields a lot more clout in the land between the Mississippi and the Missouri than my close-minded, naive perspective previously understood. 

Factory farm?, Part II

I have noticed that, on many of our visits to animal producers - whether they be farms or associations - people get very offended at the mention of a "factory farm." However, they don't quite deny the classification; they tend to attempt to distract from it with either a, "What is a factory farm?" or an "I work on this farm with my father and grandmother!" - something of that sort.

After being in Iowa for two weeks, I can see both sides of this issue. Of course, factory farms have been vilified in the media, made out to be heartless, reckless, unfeeling corporations that terrorize the market. I tend to have a bit of a different definition of a factory farm: I see a factory farm as, basically, an operation that produces a lot of meat - simply put, a CAFO (concentrated animal feeding operation), which is more based on size and practice than business status or employee relationships. The Friests' hog operation is legally defined as a CAFO, even though only 3-4 family members do all of the work onsite. Anyway, I guess this perspective of mine causes me to be a bit taken aback by those who are offended at the mention of their operation as a factory farm.

My question is: why not explain the term rather than running from it? I've begun to understand that farmers, like any hardworking people, probably feel the need to defend time-honored and work-intensive practices that others tell them are wrong. However, I do not think that factory farms are inherently bad. They do not necessarily harm the animals or workers - though, of course, exceptions may always be found. Factory farms, or CAFOs, are simply one way of cheaply and efficiently producing a product that the American market demands. Maybe, if the media and the American people could all have an Iowa Farm May Experience, they would all understand. Since that is unlikely, it does seem that some sort of education is necessary, and the responsibility for such education falls, I believe, on the farmers. Americans seem to have a renewed interest in food these days - what it's made of, where it comes from, who's in charge of it - and I would predict (or at least hope) that they are willing to listen to a correction of misinformation.

Do I agree with the practices of factory farms? Nope. (See my previous post, "Factory farm?", for a few brief reasons, or comment on this post for further dialogue.) I will always advocate for a more local and sustainable form of agriculture, but I don't think that that gives me the right to tell someone else that their practice is flat-out wrong and should be abolished. As the conventional and organic farmers have both said: for now, there's room for everything in our market, and people deserve a choice. I don't think that it's a prudent one, but, in the meantime, CAFOs are providing livelihoods for many, like our dear friends, the Friests, and that's valuable.

Word association

"All natural," "organic," "vegetarian," "vegan," "locavore." If you are a concerned eater like me, you've likely heard all of these terms - and more - in relation to what foods you "should" be eating. But what does it all mean?

In my two weeks of experiencing Iowa farmers, I've found a great lack of knowledge regarding these terms - ironic, considering that they're the ones, for the most part, producing the above-mentioned food! There seem to be some misconceptions about some of these words, while many people are completely unfamiliar with others. My vegetarianism has fascinated 8/10 people I meet - and the other 2 have usually been, to pardon my sexist expression, the odd men out. If you'd like to discuss my myriad reasons for going veg, I'm pretty much an open book, but that's not the point of this blog post. I'm not out to "convert" anyone, but I will talk if you'll listen.

Anyway, being vegetarian means that I consume egg and dairy products, but no meat or fish. I take it pretty strictly, limiting even meat products and byproducts in my food such as gelatin or disodium inosinate & disodium guanylate (dried fish - look it up). If I were vegan, I would consume no animal products or byproducts of any kind, including eggs, butter, leather, etc. Side note/fun fact: a "pescetarian" is a vegetarian who consumes fish.

As Morgan touched on in her earlier post, the term "organic" has a somewhat misunderstood and very nuanced, complicated technical meaning. Regulations for becoming nationally certified are actually quite strict, as we learned from Roger Knutson at breakfast bright and early Monday morning, when he showed us his yearly paperwork. However, organic does not guarantee that no pesticides were used or even that food is healthy. No definitive studies have shown that organic foods are better (or worse) for you than those that are traditionally grown. That being said, one can be pretty confident that they are going to be better for the environment and the farmer (because pesticides that may be used are natural), so I would recommend it.

Which brings me to the next topic: labeling foods as "all-natural." It's so frustrating to see that on foods from ketchup to apples. What does it MEAN? Well, truthfully, nothing. There's no USDA regulation regarding this label, so pretty much anyone can slap it on their product, so long as it's not blatant false advertising. For me, it's a good tip-off that I might want to read a food label to investigate further (which, being vegetarian, a concerned citizen, and nutritionally minded, I generally do first, anyway). "All-natural" foods may be minimally processed, healthier options; but, as I said, take that designation with a grain of salt.

 

The last word that I mentioned above is "locavore." I would bet that, out of the five terms i listed, this is probably the least familiar to everyone. Recent studies HAVE proven that eating fresh, local food is better for you and the environment, because fresh and local foods tend to retain more nutrients and cut down on transportation emissions. Keeping foods fresh and local often ties in with things like vegetarianism and a preference for organic foods, because often, local, fresh foods are minimally processed, too. A locavore is one who engages in the local food movement, trying to eat as many locally-sourced foods as possible. Commonly found at a farmers' market, the locavore is, in short, my hero.

I've included some pictures of the Des Moines Farmers' Market, which we visited Saturday morning (what great fun!) in our own attempts to be locavores. We were each given a budget and told to get something healthful to prepare for the group. I purchased, among other things, a small bunch of kale, and this afternoon, I prepared it with mushrooms, onion, garlic, and herbs for lunch! Served over rice, it was scrumptious, if I do say so, myself.

I hope this post clears up some myths or questions for everyone - in Iowa and beyond. If you have any questions or qualms, please comment - I'd love to engage in a dialogue!

The miracle of life

Katie Jo wrote recently about life and death on the farm - I would like to take this opportunity to inform everyone about just the life side, as we witnessed Sunday night.

The Friests' trusted 4-year-old Golden Retriever, Paige, had 10 Golden Doodle puppies! She had obviously been very pregnant since we met her, and she was scheduled to have the pups before we concluded our time here; so, of course, we had to see them. The Friests called us just as we were finishing dinner on Sunday to report the good news, so we drove down to see all 10 of the adorable puppies (3 girls and 7 boys, if I remember correctly) and their calm, poised, tired mama.

Paige is so small; I don't even understand how 10 living creatures came out of her! She was so patient with all of her pups, licking and moving them to make sure that they all got food, warmth, and equal love. She had one similar litter two years ago, and her instinctual skills are apparently unforgettable.

Speaking of instinct - why is it that dogs have such large litters compared to humans? Are they in danger of extinction? Unless I'm grossly under-informed, there's not a high risk of puppy death. And why do puppies become self-sufficient in a matter of weeks, while humans can take 18 years or more?

For those of you who don't know, in the past 3 weeks, I've graduated, celebrated my 22nd birthday, and been provisionally hired for a real, live teaching position in Texas. I don't really feel any older; perhaps because of the quickness of it all, I am just trying to take things as they come, one day at a time. It's finally beginning to hit that I am moving out of my parents' house - for real this time, and not just to take a multi-state journey to Furman's campus that will eventually lead me home again. I feel no more independent now than I did when I left for college, but when I begin to think about it, I've learned a lot over the last four weeks - academically, socially, you name it.

Puppies don't go to college. (But they do go to pre-school...at least, my puppy did, when I was seven or eight. She was trained how to heel, stay, lie down, etc. before her symbolic graduation.) And yet, they instinctually know how to survive - and not only survive, but thrive, bringing 8-12 offspring into the world each breeding! I've always been amazed by dog instincts, as I grew up being very close to my two Goldens in succession - their ability to sleep with one eye open (or one of two eyelid layers open, rather); their keen smell; their uncanny sense of the master's mood; their yearning to be in a pack, in a safe and secure area, or just around their "people" - do humans have these instincts? We are completely helpless for at least a few months, needing our parents or other caretakers not only to feed us but to transport us and teach us everything we will know. Our parents can't even really understand us - do dog moms understand puppy whines? I digress. How do animals get away with existing as "mini-adults" so soon, while humans need to be catered to? Who's getting the better deal, anyway?

TJ Farms

We started our day bright and early this morning at the Tjelmeland Farm in Story County, just about 15 minutes down the road. We've been eating their eggs for weeks now (courtesy of Wheatsfield Co-op), and we set out to find their origin. It was wonderful! Honestly, I was not too enthused this morning, when I had to get up early and leave without breakfast (we were scheduled to eat with them.) However, this morning's visit was definitely one of my favorite thus far.

We started out doing chicken chores with Connie. I have always been pretty uneasy around birds, for various reasons, so it was a bit overwhelming to arrive bleary-eyed and step right into the free range area, surrounded by over 700 hungry and growing chicks. We moved the feeders (they rotate them every day), fed them, and changed the water and cleaned their containers. Then, we got a tour of the rest of the coop area, which included the roosts, laying boxes, hospital area, and the bigger hens and their pasture area. Connie also showed us her small, organic garden of squash and cucumbers, and we got to see the wind break that had been planted in the 1970s - and after standing up by the house in the heavy wind in the cool morning air, that was a welcome relief! We also went out to the grazing area for the larger hens, where we were introduced to Clover, the GUARD LLAMA, his friend, Daisy, the goat, and Rosie, the guard donkey. (Yes, it was as comical as it sounds. We all kept our distance to avoid being spit on.)

Next, we went back to the nesting areas to collect eggs with Mark. I was amazed at both the sheer number of eggs available (we couldn't even fit them all in our 3 baskets!) and the docility of the chickens. As I said, birds freak me out a little bit, so I was timid when it came to reaching into the occupied boxes to get eggs. However, the hens were very accommodating, lifting up to allow us access to the 2-7 eggs beneath them. Mark explained that it was normal to have so many eggs, and he would have to go out midday to collect those eggs that didn't fit in our overflowing baskets as well as the ones from the late layers. He took us down to the basement, where they process the eggs: this consists of cleaning, candling, and boxing them.

We then shared a breakfast with extended family and neighbors of scrambled eggs, local sharp cheddar cheese, pork sausage, orange juice, canned pears from their trees, and homemade blueberry muffins. Delicious! I also loved sitting around the big farmhouse table and getting to know everyone.

The last bit of our visit consisted of Mark taking us around to show us the conservation measures put into practice around the organic farm, where they raise soybeans, oats, and more. They had plenty of CRP acres and quite a bit of planted native prairie, as well as the aforementioned wind break. We rode in the back of Mark's truck as he showed us his various fields and plants.

Connie, Dr. HN, and I got into a bit of a discussion at the conclusion of our tour on GMOs and organic farming. Legitimate points were raised then and also at breakfast, including the fact that conventional farming is expensive; requiring it or even subsidizing it imposes this form of agriculture on other peoples and cultures around the world; and that crops used to grow just fine on their own, without human intervention.

Bobby the dog accompanied us from place to place all morning and enjoyed plentiful pats from us all. I forgot to take my camera in my lack of alertness this morning, so all of the pictures in this post are from Sam.

If You're Happy and You Know It....

Throughout the trip, I have wondered about the concerns of animal rights activists and the farmer. I'm sure we all can agree on the fact that animal cruelty resulting in physical or emotional pain crosses a line.  But there are more disputed factors such as the use of gestational and farrowing crates for pigs.  In these debates, each side tries describes what would make the animal "happy". Also, when determining the factors that make the animal, in this case, pigs "happy", the public and some animal rights activists put themselves in the pig's position and ask themselves how they would feel in a certain situation. For example, when talking about farrowing crates, many people think of themselves in a small cubicle, which would be uncomfortable to any human being. However, humans do not think like pigs, and pigs do not think like humans. How do we know that the pig is not "happy" in the crate?  Perhaps due to the heightened sense of security that comes from having no other pig attack them or their children?  Perhaps the pigs are not necessarily happier outside where they can run around? Unfortunately there is no survey that we could give to the pigs to determine their "happiness". I am also no pig expert and have no knowledge on the mannerisms of pigs.

Emily in a previous post brought up a good point: some people dislike the crates because they are not natural. While I agree with that statement, I must also ask how we know that the pig is happier in a natural  enviroment. Does that mean we should release all our pet dogs or cats back into the wild because they are not living in a natural environment? I think not. I will post a picture below of pigs brought up in a crate free environment and those brought up in a farrowing crate, so you can remind yourself of what each would look like.

While my previous paragraphs may have sounded opinionated, I am still not certain of this issue. I do believe that if an animal is used to a certain environment that it would be unhappy if it was put into a new environment. The main issue though is if the animal is truly "happy" in that environment in the first place. I believe that it would be difficult to get an animal to go against its natural instinct, but when it comes to going against the "happiness" of the animal that's a different story. A study done by Martin Seligman, found that if dogs were place onto a shock grate with no way of escaping the animal would eventually just lay down and take the shock. After this, they animal was placed on a shock grate with a small wall on one side that led to an area that was not shocked. The animal did not move towards the  no shocked area but simply laid down yet again and took the shock. Even upon seeing other dogs not in the first condition jumping over the wall, the original dog still remained on the shocked grate. Do we know that this is not what is happening to pigs in the farrowing crates? I don't know. I do think that if this were happening the farmer's would observe the pig's depressed state and take note. However, no one can be certain until a satisfactory study can be carried out.

Before anyone draws conclusions as to what condition pigs are "happiest", I think that we should ask the experts and ask that they conduct valid studies so that our claims would have more merit.

Show Animals

Today I encountered something that was very foreign yet very familiar at the same time. That something was Show Guernseys. A Guernsey is a type of milking cow that originated on the British Channel Island of Guernsey. The cows are red and white in color, and they produce milk that contains a high butter fat content.  I encountered these animals at Knapps Dairy Farm in Epworth, Iowa. When Dr. HN told us we were visiting a Dairy, I just excepted to see a bunch of dairy cows, learn how the operation worked, and get to see the milking barn in action. Not only did we get to see all of that, but we also got to hear all about the Knapps' winning ways in the show arena and their extensive breeding program. That stuff really hit home for me, since I have grown up around showing and breeding quarter horses.

The Knapp family consisted of Randy and Wanda and their two sons Austin and Landen. Austin and Landen show the Guernseys all over the country. Some of the biggest dairy shows are close by in Wisconsin. Austin informed us that sometimes they will take 30 head to the bigger shows. When we walked into the milking barn there was a sign above each cow that listed the cow's name and all of the awards that they had won. Some of the cows contained lists that filled up the entire board.

Due to all of their success in the show arena, they had developed an extensive breeding program. They would flush embryos out of their best cows and send them all the world. Transferring embryos is when they extract an egg out of winning cow and place them in another cow, know as the receipent cow, with the intent of establishing a pregnancy. They have a wide demand for embryos out of some of their top cows and have sent them to places such as Japan, Germany, and Switzerland. One cow had over 200 calves on the ground because her babies were in such high demand. She had only had 4 naturally.

Personally, I really enjoyed hearing about their showing and breeding. I could tell as soon as we started hearing about how important the genetics were and how interested the boys were in showing that they were very serious about showing. Their breeding habits and show schedule made me realized they were big time showers on a national levels before I even saw any of the cows' wins. It was really cool for me to see someone who was serious about showing as I was but with a completely different animal.

From "Food" to Fuel - A Trip to the Ethanol Plant

On May 18th our troupe toured an ethanol plant in Nevada, IA (pronounced na-vay-da). Operated by Lincolnway Energy, the facility processes 55,000 bushels of yellow no. 2 corn per day (hence the quotation marks surrounding the word "food" in the title of this post) and produces approximately 50 million gallons of ethanol annually. Ethanol production in the United States exploded in the mid 2000s as an abundance of cheap corn and a demand for energy independence fueled expansion of the industry. The federal government established the Renewable Fuel Standard (RFS) creating a floor under the price of ethanol, ensuring that even in tough times (such as world financial crisis of 2008) ethanol production would continue, albeit at a reduced rate. Today ethanol continues to play a  key role in global energy and food markets, although the economy today yields less profitability than the boom years of 2005 and 2006 due the higher price of corn. Luckily, the price of oil also has remained stubbornly high, allowing for the steady production of ethanol as an alternative to pure gasoline.

Our wonderful guide Francis located in front of the Lincolnway Energy Ethanol Plant

Corn emptying from a truck into the ethanol plant

Despite the presence of the RFS and the current favorable market for ethanol, I remain skeptical of the fuel's long-term future. The current budget/deficit crisis has brought agricultural and energy programs under the knife; these industries can not count on government support forever. Ethanol no longer receives any formal subsidies - both the ethanol tariff and blenders credit expired at the end of last year. Additionally, the entire ethanol production process is very energy intensive - plants are powered by coal or natural gas while the final ethanol blend must be diluted by gasoline. Higher input costs correspond directly with higher fossil fuel prices, reducing profitability. More expensive fuels also increase the price of corn, as farmers are required to spend more on inputs as well. Finally, increasing interest in electric cars and public transportation may eventually decrease reliance on gasoline and ethanol. However, two bright spots remain for the industry. The price of corn (which ultimately is the most significant factor in ethanol profitability) is likely to fall due to a major expansion of the corn acreage across the world and the increasing supply of corn come harvest time.  Ethanol plants will be able to purchase greater quantities of the commodity at a reduced price. Expanding research regarding biofuel production (focusing on cellulosic production using corn stalks) also may aid the industry in the future.

The tour itself was excellent. Our guide (Francis - a biologist) did a superb job in explaining the production process to our group. She handled the chemical and biological explanations quite well, articulating them clearly without "dumbing down" the information. One fascinating (and incredibly useful) feature of the ethanol production process is its primary byproduct - DGs (distiller grains). Separated during the fermentation process, these highly-caloric and nutritious grains function quite well as animal feed. They are divided into two categories: wet and dry grains. Dried distiller grains (DDGs) possess more inherent value, as they store well and can be shipped long distances. Wet distiller grains (known colloquially as "wetcake") can mold within days, therefore limiting them to local distribution. DGs illustrate even further the interconnectedness of large-scale food and fuel production cycles.

Wetcake - like Play-doh, but edible!

Our group in front of a massive pile of DDG's

Both the economics and science of ethanol production fascinate me - I will certainly continue to track industry developments in the future.

The various stages of the ethanol production process - from ground corn on the left to 200 proof ethanol (diluted with gasoline) on the right