What drew you to Red Wiggler Care Farm, and what made this role feel like the right next step for you?
For most of my career, I’ve been a farmer, and for most of that time, I have worked on farms where the community it served and that supported it was its heartbeat, even more than the land itself. At Common Good City Farm in DC, feeding and teaching volunteers and neighbors is the reason for being. Around the corner at Beet Street Gardens, providing therapy and safe space for youth with trauma and adults in addiction recovery was the core work. In Illinois, Angelic Organics Roots & Wings’ farms empower young people in public housing to take ownership of their ground, build employable skills, and reconnect with nature. My work at each of these programs involved getting dirt under my fingernails, sure, but I was equally focused on growing healthier human bodies and relationships. Red Wiggler Care Farm is an exemplary model of how to use farming to heal the whole body of the farmer and their community. I couldn’t be more excited to be on board!
Can you share a bit about your path to farming and a moment when you knew this work mattered to you?
When I was a child, my mother grew abundant fruit, vegetable, and herb gardens. To me, walking out the back door and gobbling a handful of blueberries or cherry tomatoes within moments was normal – it took some time for me to understand that others did not have this easy access, and sometimes couldn’t get fresh produce at all. I became an urban farmer to help bridge this gap. When you farm in the city, it’s not long before neighbors, and especially children, come to see how it all works, so you quickly become a teacher, too. Combining the heady work of communication with hands-on labor among leafy plants was the perfect balance for me, using my energy and skills to make a difference.
What does a great day on the farm look like for you?
A great farm day starts with a good plan – one written in pencil. It really helps to have a concrete outline of what you want to accomplish, tempered by a healthy dose of humility. Things are going to change: you’ll find whiteflies on the underside of collards you meant to harvest quickly; the tractor hitch will get stuck and you’ll have to bang on it longer than you intended; you’ll slice irrigation with a sharp tool that was supposed to be helpful but has now made a pond in your potatoes. Rolling with these punches is what makes a farmer resilient, so you have to include the idea of flexibility in your concept of what makes a day great.
Another view: a great day is one without strong wind. I can deal with rain, snow, even heat, but man, I can’t stand big buffeting gusts of wind. They just mess everything up – row cover blows off, landscape fabric lifts up, broadcasted seeds or amendments go astray, the paper on your clipboard when you’re trying to write flips around… settle down, please!
What are you most looking forward to learning at Red Wiggler?
I volunteered at Red Wiggler about 16 years ago as a caretaker for my friend Christoph, a young man with severe physical limitations along with an outsized laugh and zest for life. I think he mainly just enjoyed watching me sweat as I weeded and sorted garlic. I got a lot out of it, too: seeing accommodations for workers with various types of disability that enabled them to make meaningful contributions to the execution of the day’s tasks was incredible. This wasn’t just some kind of mock-up for the sake of programming; this was a working farm, where people of all abilities came together to create a sense of purpose and successfully feed their community. I found it deeply inspirational. Since then, Red Wiggler has had a special place in my heart as a radical project in humanism. I look forward to continuing to learn ways to connect people to a sense of belonging and well-being on the land.
When you’re not on the farm, how do you like to spend your time?
I like playing games where you chase a ball around, but at my post- pickup-games-every-schoolday-afternoon age, I’m reduced to running after nothing on the streamside trails of Stony Run in Baltimore by myself. I get a taste of team sports by coaching Special Olympics basketball – go Team Justice! – which is very fun. At home, I watch westerns and sci-fi TV shows and movies, I stay up late for SNL every week, and I enjoy being ignored by my cat, Ziegler.
Finish this sentence: “At its best, farming is…”
At its best, farming is small-scale and sustainable, performed alongside hardworking friends, responsive to the climate and land where it’s done, and designed thoughtfully to nourish the neighbors nearby.