Hello Friends;
We write this week with heavy hearts. There is so much to say, and yet there are so few words to adequately describe the sadness, horror, rage, impotence, that we feel having witnessed the torturous murder of George Floyd and the unfathomable failure of our national leaders amidst calls for peace, justice, equity, and grace. Seemingly, we are finally witnessing the dissolution of a fragile veil that has allowed so many of us to live in relative comfort and with relatively little self-deconstructive dissonance. We are finding it difficult to express ourselves b/c we are trying really hard to listen, to talk less, to allow the sour, discomforting truth of our whiteness, our un-earned and un-mitigated privilege, to guide our work in the world and in our selves.
As we reach to transform the food system it is incredibly important that we acknowledge the oppression, racism, and exploitation intrinsic to that system, historic and current. We farm on land that was stolen from the Molalla Tribe. We were born with light skin, which has greatly enabled the pursuit of this farm life. The asymmetrical structures of wealth that exist to empower land ownership, resource acquisition, education, market access, access to credit and capital, the freedom to take large financial risks - these are forces built on a social fabric of white supremacy. We grapple with our privilege, knowing that our pursuit of this dream is rooted in a land of injustice and systemic racism. We are sitting with this discomfort, trying to understand our complacency and complicity, and seeking ways to advocate for our black, brown and indigenous brothers and sisters. While we work to heal the land, we must also work to heal our community and ourselves, to offer our children the tools and the language to be active participants in an equitable society- one where racism, bigotry and hate are marginalized to extinction. Centuries of injustice will take many lifetimes to reverse, and each day is a day we have to open our eyes and turn the tide.
In this unprecedented time, we are asking ourselves: What is our role right now? How can we commit to it with humility and purpose? To the other white and non-Black folks in our beloved community, we invite you to ask yourselves those same questions, and to find more ways to redistribute resources and take heed from Black leaders and activists on the frontlines.
These are hard questions, and these are uncomfortable conversations. But our freedom to choose to engage with and/or to intellectualize this moment is exactly the privilege that we hope to dismantle. We cannot escape our interconnected humanity, and we all have a role in the shape of our future. In this way, there is very little difference between ecological justice and social justice. Ultimately, the earth does not discriminate, and how we choose to treat our rock in space will eventually come home to roost, even for those humans in the big white castles on the hill. And amidst it all, we must also eat.
It seems trite to talk about vegetables when our country is burning. But please know that your vegetables are coming to you with so much love - with the intention and the knowledge that we must work hard to be better humans. It all seems so big and so insurmountable, but the work starts here, in our community, with our friends and our family. Thank you for reading, and thank you for participating. Are hearts are split wide open. We are ready.
With Love,
Conner and Sarah
