Coggeshall Farm Museum

Yard work at the family estate

After leaving Claymont Community we decided to take a bit of a farming break, and visited Randy's family in  Massachusetts. During our month off, Holly went down to New York for a few days to visit with old friends, and Randy went to a board game convention in Indiana called Gencon. While Randy was at Gencon, Holly was able to go back to St. Louis for a few days and see her family.

Egyptian-themed dinner

Grillin' with Dylan

                                                 

Celebrating Holly and Grace's birthdays

Genconners

Visiting Tower Hill

 

Stories for the niece

    

Eager to dig in to some roast rabbit

     Refreshed and missing the smell of soil and the feel of fields, we packed up and set off, this time for Coggeshall Farm Museum in Bristol, Rhode Island. Eager to make a good impression, we showed up late in the afternoon on Friday, just in time to take Saturday and Sunday off. We did arrive in time to help muck the barn, and meet the animals.

Jonny dishes out the real bacon

     Coggeshall Farm Museum is a restored tenet farm from the 1790s. What sets it apart from other historical sites is that no one famous or rich ever lived on the premises. Because it was a rental property, no one bothered to remodel the house, and it has stayed almost completely unaltered since the 1700s. The farm museum project began in 1968 when the Bristol historical society decided to save the house from demolition.
     Jon and Shelley have been the farm managers for two years, and they, along with a few other paid staff and volunteers, facilitate the smooth operation of the museum. Both Jonny and Shelley have many years of historical interpreting under their belt, and met while working at Plymouth Plantation. In addition to interpreting, Shelley also plays the harp at weddings, and is a talented and sought after musician. We loved listening to her practice, including the occasional harp renditions of modern hits such as "Paint it Black" by the Rolling Stones. Jonny  is a great storyteller, and often regaled us with his historical and agricultural knowledge. He is also an amazing cook, and we were treated to such delectable dinners as goat and chickpea stew, pasta with pesto and scallops, leg of mutton, and roast rabbit.

Visitors enjoying Breakfast in the Barnyard

Bo going to meet his fans

     The museum has a wide array of heirloom vegetables and heritage breed livestock. Coggeshall Farm is open to the public six days a week, and visitors enjoy interacting with the chickens, turkeys, geese, sheep, and cows. Workshops also play a large part in the museums' education, and on Saturday we tagged along for the Breakfast in the Barnyard tour. This is a popular program created by Shelley and Jonny that allows families to be a part of morning chores, culminating in Johnny cakes for all. The program draws as many as 80 people, and Jonny is great at engaging large groups, and keeping everyone interested. It's always fun to see kids get excited about farming. Not only were they eager to gather eggs, but also psyched to carry firewood or simply find a feather on the ground. Parents also joined in the fun, and snapped plenty of pictures of their kids with armloads of hay. After gathering eggs, the kids got to brush the horse, donkey, and cows, including the 1800 lb ox Bo. All of the animals were gentle enough to be trusted around kids, thanks to the constant efforts of Jonny and Shelley. By interacting with the animals on a daily basis they ensure they remain accustomed to people. Jonny and Shelley even managed to raise four goslings into pleasant, non-territorial geese.

This tree formed a cavernous room

Holly likes rocks

     After Breakfast in the Barnyard ended, we went for a walk and found the beach at Colt State park, which was about ten minutes from the farm. We went swimming, and as we relaxed by the bay, contemplated how every farm should have a neighboring beach. We ended our lazy Saturday by holding a new batch of baby chicks, imprinting them to humans to ensure their docility. We learned that the key to imprinting poultry is to frequently spend time with them for the first four weeks, establishing a parental role. Then, however, it is important to back off, so that they don't start seeing you as a rival chicken.
     On Sunday there was a special picnic for museum members, after which we got to enjoy a historically correct, hearth-made meal of  squash and beans from the garden, gingerbread, leftover Johnny cakes, and salt pork (meat from last year's pig, soaked in a wooden barrel of brine for the last nine months).

The geese had a habit of ganging up on inanimate objects.

     An important part of the museum's labor force is local volunteers, and on Monday a horde of freshman from Roger Williams University arrived to help out. There were 40 freshman, 3 farm employees, and us, so in order to most effectively utilize the workforce we were each given a crew of 10, while Jonny oversaw the entire operation. Randy's crew made a fence around the chicken coop and cleared brush, while Holly's group had the difficult task of rearranging the hay in the hay barn in preparation for the next cutting. The freshmen were good workers and saw their tasks to completion, even though they had simply been given a random "community service project," and some of their peers had been sent to much less arduous assignments.
     For the rest of the week we did garden maintenance for two gardens, the first being the museum garden which is historically accurate both in its contents and layout. Shelley also tries to use only historically accurate tools and methods of pest control. The second garden is Jonny and Shelley's personal modern garden where they are free to experiment with modern organic methods. One of these methods Shelley was trying was growing potatoes in a 3'x4' potato box. The idea builds on the concept of hilling potatoes; in theory, if dirt is continually built up around the plant, it will keep producing potatoes, even to the height of 4'. Shelley tried it last year, but her first attempt did not hold up through the season, and she wanted a sturdier box. It took us a few days, but in the end we had an impressive box with removable slats.

First haircut of the trip

    We started our next day off by shearing Randy's tangled mane. Then we went to a local historical carousel that Jonny and Shelley recommended. Located in Riverside, RI, the Crescent Park Carousel was originally the showcase model for a local carousel manufacturer in 1895. Every unique animal is hand carved and has real horsehair tails. The organ was brought over from Germany, and is also an antique. We learned that a carousel's original purpose was to test the skill of the riders by having them jab a miniature lance through a small metal ring on their way past. This tradition transformed into riders grabbing rings from a stationary dispenser, a rare option on today's carousels, but still alive and well at Crescent Park.

Randy triumphantly displays his quarry

This is not a skill to be scoffed at, as this activity involves leaning a good four feet over your animal and catching your finger in a ring about three inches across, all while traveling a little over nine miles an hour. After we regained our land legs we headed towards Providence, stopping at yard sales and thrift stores on the way. Randy had spent a few years living in Rhode Island's capitol city and enjoyed showing Holly a few of his favorite haunts; including Cellar Stories, the kind of secondhand bookstore with vaguely organized floor-to-ceiling stacks of interesting reads and Sicilia's Pizzaria (try the stuffed pizza!). We ended our day by enjoying Waterfire, an event on the Woonasquatucket, Moshassuck, and Providence rivers celebrating local creativity.

Waterfire

A hundred braziers are lighted on the surface of the river, while music, performers, and booths line the banks.

Haying with the help of a feral Lincoln

Holly secures the load

     The next day it was time to bring in the baled hay that had been drying in the fields for a few days. Jonny, ourselves, and Clark, one of the museum staff, piled into the pickup truck and headed to the hay fields. With Clark and Randy picking up the bales and tossing them into the truck for Holly to stack, while Jonny drove, we were able to get between 40 and 60 bales per trip.      Six hot, sweaty, itchy hours later we had over 400 bales of hay stacked in 2 hay lofts, enough to feed the animals through the winter with some left over. We were all ready for a break, and as Jonny pointed out, there is nothing more refreshing than a post-haying beer.
     Our next big project was ripping out the decaying floor of the chicken coop and installing a rat-proof replacement. We learned that you cannot replace one aspect of a 20 year old shed without affecting everything else. We measured the floor at least eighteen times, and every time we put one piece in it changed the measurements of the next piece, meaning we also had to cut and re-cut every piece of wood several times. After four days of work, we finally had new floor joists, a subfloor, a layer of wire, and then the flooring. Jonny and Shelley helped us finish up the project, and after putting in roosts, fixing a window, and securing the door, the chicken coop was good as new.

The chickens were very helpful

Our finished coop

     While we were putting in the subfloor, the remains of Isaac swept through, dumping eight inches of rain in two hours. We thought we'd stay dry while working in the coop, until we noticed water seeping up through our new floor. Before we knew it the coop was sinking faster than the Gaspee, and we had to abandon ship. We decided to brave the monsoon to grab raincoats to stay dry and shovels to dig a drainage ditch. The barnyard had become one big pond, and halfway to the house we were already drenched, and realized the raincoats were a lost cause. Our plan worked, and the chicken coop was soon above sea level and drying; the same could not be said for our "waterproof" boots.
      Another byproduct of the storm was the flooding of the Cabriolet. A good rule of thumb for convertibles is that for every role you have in the roof, you should have one in the floor. Otherwise you end up bailing water out of the bottom with a milk jug and towels.
     With our visit coming to an end, our last day was spent packing, cleaning, and taking their canoe out for a spin. After we got back from our row, Jonny and Shelley took us out to their favorite restaurant, the Beehive, which uses local and organic ingredients. Everything was crazy good, and we had a lovely, leisurely dinner. Right about the time were loosening our belts and trying to figure out how to stand up, they mentioned "so we really come here for the desserts," which were equally incredible. It was a perfect end to a wonderful visit.

Holly has difficulty with the drop spindle

Getting a spinning lesson from Shelley

Randy, Holly, Shelley, and Jonny with Frankie

Shelley and her affectionate chickens

Randy enjoys weekly visits to NEGG, the local gaming group

Beyond Old MacDonald: Sexism and Ablism in Organic Farming

     I am one of those white, college-educated liberals who thinks farming is the greatest thing ever. I regale my non-farming friends with tales of drinking raw milk, picking blueberries, and birthing goats. I love farming. I love growing food and working with the earth and being self-sufficient. However, I have also found that even among organic farms, there is no utopian ideal of social equality. Despite the gradual influx of first generation farmers coming from the cities, rural areas still tend to be prejudiced spaces. As the trend for fresh air and local tomatoes grows, we must work to ensure that “the country” not only tolerates everyone, but encourages and welcomes all people.

     Overall my experiences on farms and in rural communities have been wonderful, and I have not encountered any overt prejudice (a luxury that may be attributed to people's perception of me as a straight, white girl), but on more than one occasion I have found myself rather frustrated with assumed gender roles. Over and over again, farmers ask Randy for help with mechanical tasks or heavy lifting, when I am almost always capable. Often I join in just to show that I can lift as many 50 lb bags of feed as Randy can. I hope that seeing my strength and willingness will help challenge gendered assumptions, and perhaps farmers will be less presumptuous next time they as interns to move feed. 
     In terms of mechanical work, Randy has had more experience with tasks like running a chainsaw. In these situations, I would have to spend fifteen minutes learning how to do the work while Randy can get right to it, so although I'm eager to demonstrate my ability, sometimes I step back for the sake of getting the job done. However, if I never do mechanical work, then I’ll never learn and I’ll always be weeding instead of cutting timber. Other times I am tired or sick and I don’t feel like doing heavy manual labor, but I feel obligated to challenge stereotypes. I struggle with when to insist on helping with traditionally “male” jobs and when to let it go. If the task is something I’m really interested in, like fixing a hay baler, I am fine being really assertive and making sure I get to help and learn. But often even these scenarios end with me standing around, feeling like a clueless third wheel. It can be mentally exhausting to constantly feel like I am valued differently than Randy, and that I have to do twice the work just to show that I’m capable. It shouldn’t have to be a constant battle.

     This gender-based job assignation happens even on farms run by liberal, college-educated women. Occasionally farmers realize that they're perpetuating stereotypes, but may continue to do so because of past experience with male and female WWOOFers. Of course, gender assumptions work both ways. There have been times when I get to do something really cool inside, like make soap, while Randy is stuck outside weeding. Having all-male and all-female spaces is not necessarily a bad thing; indeed, it is sometimes helpful (although these usually fail to accommodate folks who don't identify with their biological sex). However, it's important to make sure that all-female and all-male spaces are intentional, appropriate, and beneficial for all. 
     Although stereotyping is incredibly frustrating for strong women, it can also be aggravating for men who are assumed to be stronger, taller, and more capable than their female counterparts. I have a friend who wishes she could challenge stereotypes, but because of health issues is physically unable to do hard labor. Thus, she often feels like she is reinforcing the “weak woman” trope even though her inability has nothing to do with her gender. Furthermore, even the strongest, most able-bodied men sometimes tire of constantly having to do the heavy lifting. The problem is the assumption that everyone's strengths and interests directly correlate with their traditional gender roles. Ideally, right off the bat, farmers would ask interns what they are interested in and what physical labor they are comfortable with. As with so many problems in our society, the solution here is facilitating communication early on and evaluating individuals rather than making generalizations.

Fresh Moves in Chicago brings produce to the inner city

     Inequality in farming is a vast subject. Many others have gone into detail about the grossly illegal treatment of migrant farmworkers, the horrendous working conditions in slaughterhouses and factory farms, and the persecution in rural areas of queer folks, foreign folks, non-Christian folks, non-white folks, and anyone else who is isolated, vulnerable, or thought to be different. The organic movement in 

The inside of a Fresh Moves bus

general is quite problematic because it tends to be expensive and available to only the (often white) middle and upper classes. This is slowly starting to change as, for example, more and more farmer’s markets accept food stamps. However there is still the problem of farmers’ markets frequently being located in “nicer” areas of town and the feasibility of transportation to these spaces. Furthermore, we have encountered very few people of color among both WWOOFers and farmers (Natasha Bowens at BrownGirlFarming has some excellent thoughts on this). Although these are important phenomenon to grapple with, I am going to let others who have more experience write about them. I will, however, mention ability, which I have been thinking a lot about, and is not often mentioned in conversations about farming.  

     Farms are often very able-bodied spaces. Because of the amount of physical labor involved, many farms look for WWOOFers with stipulations such as being able to lift 50 lbs, being physically fit, or being able-bodied. This is understandable, but maybe not as necessary as people think. Making all farms ADA compliant is not financially realistic, nor a high priority for most farmers, but more could certainly be done. Most farms we’ve been to have main garden and animal areas that would be navigable for all-terrain wheelchairs or WWOOFers who are less mobile.

Farms that welcome people of all abilities

In WWOOFing, there is such a vast array of jobs, from planting seeds in greenhouses and planning the garden, to milking animals and sorting garlic cloves, from washing and processing harvested veggies to cleaning eggs and examining crops for insect damage. There are countless ways that workers with disabilities can contribute to a working farm. Programs like the National AgrAbility  Project provide support and assistance for farmers with disabilities. There are also farms that intentionally create environments for all abilities, like Herb Blossom Express which has paraplegic-accessible tractors. These are important first steps, but ideally all host farms should figure out ways to accommodate more people. Even simply mentioning in the WWOOF description that they are open to working with people of varying abilities would create possibilities. In our travels, there has been a noticeable lack of people with disabilities, both among the farmers and fellow WWOOFers. There are probably a variety of reasons for this, but people with disabilities should have the same opportunities I have been lucky enough to experience.

     The back-to-the-land movement is exciting and full of potential and possibility, and I am eager to be a part of it. It centers around adopting a greater ethical responsibility for the earth and I cannot stress enough the importance of this task. However, along the way, we must make sure to practice that same ethical responsibility towards one another. What we are doing must not be only an environmental and agricultural movement, but a social revolution.