What is the sum of sustainability?
// A peek into my notes for an upcoming story. //
Reading the Arizona Agenda daily newsletter with my morning coffee like it's the paper. The newsletter is written by Rachel Leingang and Hank Stephenson, two longtime AZ journalists, and their goal is to "Help Arizonans better understand the state’s political scene and how the government works so they can make informed decisions and hold their leaders to account. We focus on the effects of political decisions and the people behind them." Today's issue is about how schools in AZ are keeping Narcan stocked to prevent opioid overdoses.
Writing more emails and so many questions. The highlight of my writing week was speaking with Dr. Michael Kotutwa Johnson about sustainability in indigenous farming practices. Dr. Johnson is a Hopi dryland farmer and expert in indigenous resiliency. I asked him what is missing from the conversation and he said there's often a disconnect: People want to talk about economics, but not about the value system that is interconnected with the indigenous practices and crops that are sustainable. The next day I read an AZ Central article about growing crops with less water -- and guess who's quoted, that's right, Dr. Johnson. The article, which I found fascinating, features Oatman Farms, who in many, many ways seem to be doing it right. The current generation is rehabilitating the land that's been in their family four generations and figuring out how to farm in hot, dry climates with less water -- an objective good.
And also, there's more in the subject matter of sustainability in farming that gets left out -- probably because of word counts, people being people, a habit of focusing on what's "new." But, like Dr. Johnson was getting at, when we talk about sustainable indigenous farming practices I think we should also talk about how indigenous communities were treated by the ancestors of those who now want to farm sustainably. There is a human element staring us in the face. Sustainability is not so cut and dry, black and white, etc etc.
This week I watched episode two of the series High on the Hog: How African American Cuisine Transformed America, when Stephen Satterfield talks with Glenn Roberts about growing Carolina Gold Rice. Stephen asks Glenn if he has complicated feelings about the rice he grows, which is a product of slavery. Glenn replies that he doesn't want to be "the white privilege person" and that he runs on a reparations model that distributes the seed for free to communities who shouldn't have to pay. I think what Glenn is getting at is he doesn't want to hide in his white privilege and just focus on the rice he's growing. There's a larger history and context he wants to address.
Back to farming in Arizona. How do you incorporate learning from the indigenous people who've farmed sustainably for millennia and held onto their practices through abuse without acting like you've discovered something novel and capitalizing on it for personal gain? Part of why the land is so parched is that indigenous practices weren't respected from the beginning. I think it's another flavor of the same old pattern to avoid the uncomfortable facts and hop on the sustainability bandwagon and expect that to be enough to heal not only the earth, but systemic racism, injustice, and lopsided wealth.
This is me processing. I'm writing this as a journalist, and as someone who is making Arizona home. More effort is necessary, I think, to cover sustainability in food and farming in a way that doesn't act like the practices of indigenous people are something new that white, privileged farmers are 'discovering.' At least, that's my goal for my work.
Growing food in a more sustainable way can make things better not only for a small, elite group, but for everyone.
Cooking soup, and leftover soup. We all had a cold/allergy combo that really stuck it to us. Here's hoping for better breathing next week as an allergy season that got off to an early start because of all the winter rain continues.