Re-seeding the roots: sustainable farming in New Zealand

In early January, we packed our lives precariously onto bikes and headed towards the farmland of Canterbury, New Zealand.

We wanted to focus on three main inquiries: 1) What practices do small farms employ that set them apart from conventional agriculture? 2) How do/could small farms come together to form a sustainable food system? 3) What are the ethical dimensions of farmers’ commitment to producing food sustainably? What difference do they feel they are contributing to a healthy world? 

Our plan was to gather information through observation, interviews, and getting our hands in the soil.

Our first agriculture site was tucked into the small coastal town of Kaiapoi, about 12 miles north of Christchurch. Named, "The Food Forest", this beautiful community garden was started after the 2011 earthquake that devastated the area. This plot was cleared of damage and repurposed as a source of food security and community gathering space for those who were struggling in the aftermath of the earthquake. The Food Forest remains a beautiful and bountiful garden space full of berries, stone fruits, broccoli, squash, apples, pears, native flowers, among art and toy structures to invite and engage community members of all ages.

We arrived at The Food Forest after a morning of biking, and spent the afternoon watching a dozen or so people wander through. Some were harvesting bits of produce, others were just admiring the budding bounty. We spoke to a handful elderly folk who expressed overwhelming gratitude for the space, many said that they visited The Food Forest multiple times each week.

Supported and run by community volunteers, it was obvious that The Food Forest was an important center for this town, bringing people closer to one another, the land, and their food.

After arriving at Ashely River Organics, owners Mark and Annabelle welcomed us warmly with treats and tea on their porch, and dove into the story of their farm. As we shared plums and peaches from their trees, they explained that their orchard operates fully within their family. Surrounding their land were orchards run by Annabel's extended family, who also processed the juicing, packing, and mechanical engineering.

Throughout several hours of conversation, we wove in and out of topics of climate change, weather patterns, water politics, economics, ecology, soil chemistry, farming techniques, and so forth. Engaging with Annabelle and Mark, who have dedicated their lives to their orchard, highlighted the multidisciplinary means that farming demands. In order to stay afloat as a small agriculture site, they have become well aquatinted with the social, political, environmental, and economic variables that so heavily impact their work.

Over the last decade Mark and Annabelle have transitioned from conventional produce to organic growing. "I wouldn't grow if I wasn't doing organics..", Mark says. He goes on to explain the negative health effects that the chemicals have on humans and the environment, along with the the competitive supermarket prices that conventional produce attracts. They both agree that organic farming needs more governmental backup; that it needs to become more mainstream. Mark and Annabelle continue to sell their fruit and cider at farmers markets, local stores, and organic distributers in Auckland and Christchurch. We were excited to see their logo on store shelves as we continued our journey.

After our long conversation on the porch, we took a walk through their property. They explained that the work never ends between mowing, spraying, irrigation, picking, and processing, though it's all worth it. As they get older they are training a few others to take on more of the work so they can begin to take a back seat. We asked them what they thought was the most important way to continue this vision, "farming should be an inter-generational job," says Annabelle, "its important to pass on knowledge to the next generation."

After another day of biking we reached The Food Farm, a small family run permaculture site set in the Waipara Valley. We were quickly aquatinted with the 16 acres of flourishing land. From veggie gardens, to berry patches, to pasture, to orchard, to native pollination zone, we were blown away by the careful tending that was happening in every corner of this property.

That evening we sat down with Angela Clifford, one of the Food Farm founders and CEO of Eat New Zealand. She graciously shared her knowledge from years of trial and dedication to the land and to her community. Some key take-aways from our dinner conversation were:

-Climate change is making possible the survival of new pests and fungal diseases in New Zealand

-New Zealand is one of few developed countries that gets most of their GDP from primary sector (i.e. agriculture)

-Supermarkets control the businesses around them and make it extremely difficult for small food producers to thrive.

-One of the foundational problems in the agriculture narrative is that food is seen as fuel instead of connection.

-New Zealand bares the brunt of production for export, but receives none of the benefit.

-In permaculture, it is essential to create "wild zones" which serve as habitat for the pollinators.

The following day, Angela continued to engage us as we harvested cucumbers, (known as gerkins in New Zealand). She emphasized how growing your own food gives people a sense of resilience—a sense of hope and immediate access.

"...Hope and gerkins—thats whats important to give people right now".

We ended up staying at The Food Farm for three days sharing meals, conversation, and work with Angela, her husband Nick, and their three children. It was meaningful to be able to get involved in the gardens and connect to the processes and impacts we were talking about. We spent an afternoon and a couple evenings weeding and harvesting, in which time we gathered:

-blueberries, boysenberries, currants, apples, cherries, strawberries, potatoes, cucumbers, tomatoes, zucchinis, onions, beets, carrots, peas, and lettuce

Overall, this project profoundly redirected our thinking about the role of food production in the modern world. The central problem our research pointed us to is that food is seen as fuel instead of as connection. If we wish to move towards a healthier planet, our actions must be bound up with moving towards healthier bodies and communities. The only way to create a more sustainable and equitable food system is to start with human-to-human connection—that is, to start small. Each site we visited produced food for a different reason, but all were attempting to bring what we eat closer to our homes, families, and friends. This turning-inwards towards community is a wave of our time, as the globalizing world grapples with disconnection. In small agriculture, engaging community is a social, economic, and political strategy, and one we believe should be taken seriously.