Farm Girl Returns

I don't know much about the future...none of us do. But I am fairly certain of one thing: I will be growing my own food. 


Whether it's for recreation, my livelihood or pure survival, being self-sufficient is an aspiration I'm coming to take very seriously. The building hype surrounding locally grown, sustainable agriculture, urban gardening, free-range pasture-finished, make your own yogurt/cheese/vinegar/alcohol (etc)...makes it hip to think about raising chickens in your background and generally just making conscious choices about where food comes from. For me, this return to the earth and an understanding of our connection to what's on my dinner plate goes a bit further back. It's in my blood. The ironic thing is we all come from farming lineages; hunter-gather lines. It's not far enough back to have been bred out of us, though it feels that way. The egg of knowledge is slipping toward the edge, but it hasn't yet shattered. 


Reading Tuesday's FOODday in the Oregonian compelled me to reflect a little on why I would choose farming as a profession (if I should be so lucky) or more simply, how I can make the most of the bits of earth I can till and what I can do to shrink my own "ecological footprint." "Nurturing the next crop of farmers" by Leslie Cole follows a couple approaching retirement who built up their 17 acre land into a functioning food producing farm. They sell at the Hollywood Farmers' Market and to many restaurants in the Portland Area (and beyond?). They have hired 5 full time employees, all twentysomething graduates with an interest to start their own farms or at least gain experience. A statistic that strikes me is the average age of American farmers is 57 "and few young people with farming experience are waiting in the wings to replace them." This is a serious problem to the future of our country and our food security!


While the average American cannot pack our bags and move to some abandoned tillable land and begin anew, there is much we can do to impact the food economy. I'm starting with growing seeds. 


Here are a few things I realize I do (or am thinking about doing) when I go to a grocery store or in need of food:


1. I ask myself "where did item this come from?" If it's not from the States neighboring mine, I try to avoid it (luckily California is one of those States).
2. Is it in season where I live? (If so, chances are it's local, though not a guarantee).
3. I try to avoid lots of packaging. It's wasteful and required extra energy on the processing end.
4. I love buying bulk items.
5. I take my own containers and bags to put grains, oils, peanut butter, EVERYTHing in.
6. I go to as many farmers' markets as I can. Different markets are priced differently. Some areas have cheaper markets than others (for example, Downtown Portland is much more expensive than some suburbs). Do some investigation.
7. I like to support restaurants that have local, organic foods on the menu. I try to pick items that are in season (sadly, no asparagus in December).
8. Now I'm starting to grow my own lettuce and other veggies. I will take advantage of any fruit trees or other edible herbs and plants in my garden.
9. Finally, I am interested in how to preserve in season foods so they can be enjoyed out of season (if this means canning tomatoes, making pickled vegetables, or drying fruits I'm going to try!).

Many of these suggestions involve sacrifice. It is hard to resist bananas or other tropical fruits. I love crackers, chips and granola bars. However, my food choices do matter. Just because the item is in the store already, doesn't mean you don't impact the system when you choose not to buy it. If less people in the Montana decide to buy avocados from Mexico, the store will stock less of the product and cut down on the fossil fuels used to transport it. On average, most of the food in a typical American diet has traveled something like 1,500 miles to reach their mouths. That's each item and some come from much farther (those New Zealand apples flew at least 6000 miles to get to the USA+what it took to get to your market).

After reading Barbara Kingsolver's "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" I am a convert. 100-mile diet, Locavore, whatever you call it, eating responsibly is one important way to save our planet for the future generations. There are many complexities, but I'm going to do what I can, the best I can. I hope you will too. There are lots of resources, check http://www.animalvegetablemiracle.com/Resources2.html and go from there.

Mixed Media: I've got the evidence...

This summer is testing my patience. Less than 2 months to go before I start my Montessori primary program at MINW. I recall the slight feelings of dread and panic that used to accompany the waning of summer's freedom. This time around, I feel more like a child wearing one of those monkey-on-my-back backpacks (you know, the ones with the leash). I'm ready to bolt forward (to September), but someone's got me reined in, restricting my movement. That someone would be Time, and he's not about to let me go an inch (or minute) faster than he pleases. So I wait.

A few years ago while cleaning out the attic, I discovered a huge pile of papers stuffed into an old art portfolio folder. Upon further investigation, they revealed themselves as my 3-6 year old self's artwork. While I haven't yet learned the elaborate theory behind art's role in the primary Montessori classroom (and I'm sure there is one), I can explain what I glean from examining their ink blot mysteries. Directly below is a list I came up with for planning and promoting art with young children. Below that are the observations that lead to these conclusions.

Suggestions for the Art Encouraging Parent/Teacher/Nanny:

• Set up an Art Corner or Shelf where supplies are accessible to the child. At first, maybe rotate types of medium and paper, keeping only one type available at a time. As the child gets comfortable, make more available at a time for his or her choosing.
• Prepare various sizes and types of paper to have on hand at all times. Let the child choose which to use. Butcher paper, water color paper, construction paper, old newspaper/magazines, etc. are some ideas.
• Teach the child how to take out the materials, set them up, use them and put them away. Do so by example without a lot of talking.
• If you save the art (which any art loving person would), write the child's name and date on the work.
• Teach the child to use both sides of the paper. This saves paper and teaches conservation.
• For the younger child, use on one medium at a time. This limits the mess and helps them focus on the behavior and properties of each type.
• Be sure that the materials are non-toxic and easy to clean up. Good media include tempera paint, oil pastels (cray-pas), chalk, watercolor, glue, etc.
• For collages, show the child how to cut up smaller pieces of paper, newspaper, magazines, tissue paper, etc. and glue them onto a lager paper. Other items such as leaves, thread, stickers, cloth, etc. can be used. I even have a collage with small scraps of wood glued and painted to a stiff cardboard. Help the child gather appropriate items for collage and put them in a basket only for these things so they aren't tempted to glue puzzle pieces, socks, or cell phones to the paper!
• Use an apron to designate the time specifically for art. Make it clear that the child can do the activity as long as they want, but show by example that it must be cleaned up afterward. Art should be done at a table or easel, but not on the walls!

Observations of My Primary Art


First of all, I observe the sheer volume of work. I now consider myself an artist and suppose primary was where I made my grand debut. My mom evidently cherished each and every scribble and glue caked paper because she saved all of it. I must have done other things in Ginni's classroom, but a big chunk of my time had to have been spent engaged in artistic wanderings.

Next I notice a level of consistency. The paper size, while varied, was clearly cut (by the teacher or assistant) and available for use at all times. There were large butcher paper pieces, which were taped to an easel for use with tempera paint. The next size down was still large...maybe 10 by 16" and was used primarily with oil pastel crayons (cray-pas). Finally there were various types of paper (watercolor, construction, stationary) cut in half to about 8.5 by 5.5." These are filled with three distinct media. Either (but not mixed) chalk, watercolor or collage.

That's where the subject of mixed media comes in. I guess in this case, instead of mixing media together, my art from primary is made of many distinct materials. In most cases, each piece of art is made with only one medium. I think this points out the importance at the 3-6 age of focusing on one thing at a time; allowing the child to get to know the properties of chalk and chalk alone. Later, after putting away the chalk and cleaning up it's dust, one could move to the easel to paint large dripping strokes; mixing colors into mud. The next day, chalk and paint are old news. How about using scissors to cut, paste and tear small scraps of paper into a masterpiece?

My art is evidence to these theories...just see for yourself.

The Long and Winding Road

Earlier, I felt so inspired to write. But now the whirring of my computer seems to disrupt my forming thoughts, much like a strong gale throwing a formation of migrating birds off course. Where am I headed? I mention my journey and think of it often. My journey really means my life and the path I continue to wander. Montessori's presence in my life has been a constant throughout, whether explicit or not and I recognize that now as I await the start of my primary training at MINW.

Though I am young I've always known and appreciated my old soul. Not old as in decrepit, but old as in joined to the long chain of time and able to access its wisdom. I can say that my Montessori education reminded my old soul of this connection and its implications. The more a child learns, the greater weight each grain of knowledge hold somehow. It all relates and new insights illuminate old truths. I believe the interconnectedness of our own in and out breaths amazed and startled me. I realized that the air I breathe once was a star, oyster, ocean, bird. Now it gives me life as it has always done.

Maybe you see the connection, maybe not. I think I do.

What I find interesting in looking back on the long and winding road are the signs pointing the way. Most often, these are not bright arrows at forks in the road. Still these turning points in life are glaringly obvious when we wear our retro-spectacles.

Now it must be time for my story - my signs - the moment my feet began choosing their path without my input. I had just graduated from college. I think I'm supposed to feel empowered, vibrant and invincible. While I managed to muster some confidence, I knew there was something more I had to do; a piece of my formal education to complete. I worked and waited. And a "plan" sprouted: Nepal. I would go, meet some college friends and see where the winds took me next.

Off I went. It was so easy to leave all I had ever known behind. I embraced the newness, the difference. Watched, listened, smiled. I learned so much, lost some of my innocence, became a sister, auntie, daughter, friend to many. I embraced so much and let myself become lost and intertwined in a place so unlike my home. Yet it was just like I had been there before. I lived at Ama Ghar home for underprivileged children, taught at a private school in Kathmandu, visited an orphanage near Chennai, Southern India, flip-flopped over the hills near Darjeeling, sweated in a hostel in Dheli and spotted yaks in the high Himalayan plains of Ladakh. All the while I absorbed the plight of the earth, the people and the culture in each region I visited. The eyes of the small children still stare into mine as their grubby hands lift toward my elbow; begging.

Eventually I had to leave, return home. It was harder than I fully realize, even now. I still suffer in small ways. I have been marked by that time away and it was hard to embrace the road that seemed so simply laid before me: find a job, stick with it, marriage, kids, retirement, death. I knew I could do more...but what?

I didn't do much and an answer fell into my lap. The foundation that ran Ama Ghar Children's Home in Nepal needed part time administrative support at their Bay Area "office." I thought about it and agreed to join the effort. At first I felt swamped with the tasks and mysteries of accomplishing the day to day operations of the nonprofit out of my bedroom. But I learned and grew. Understood my reality differently and coped with what I could not change. I surrounded myself with the work but also with people connected to the organization, and in turn Nepal. I held onto the place and people as a lifeline to those in need who I hoped to help. Montessori was with me all the time, I know now. My ability to work independently, focus, set goals and communicate with others served me well. Patience didn't hurt either.

The most glaring sign though was the day I learned that 24 children from Ama Ghar had received scholarships to Montessori House in Kathmandu. Wow, I thought. I went to Montessori too. How can I use my knowledge and connections to help this school? I turned to Facebook, where I could find Montessorians galore. I contacted Peter Davidson, the founding Head of Montessori School of Beaverton, my elementary, and he gave me some leads. I contacted one, Susan Stephenson, who shares my impulse to flee the comforts of Western life to breathe the thin air of the Himalayas. She continues to inspire me through her work in Bhutan and other Himalayan countries. Unfortunately distractions always abound. I lost momentum until I made another amazing connection.

The founder of Ama Foundation, Shrawan Nepali lives on the bottom flour of a typical Noe Valley San Francisco house. I'd always enjoyed the weekly gatherings held at his place after serving another Curry Without Worry meal to homeless friends at UN Plaza (a different story all together). Upstairs lived a young couple who sometimes frequented the parties and also expressed interest in Ama Foundation and Curry Without Worry. Not long after the children at Ama Ghar received scholarships to Montessori, I learned that a long time Montessorian was staying just above Shrawan. Victoria Barres, who has sat on the board of AMI and is a representative to UNESCO happens to be the mother of the woman who lived above Shrawan. Coincidence? Maybe...but I think not. Here I encountered another glaring signal to change my direction.

After meeting with Victoria, I continued on my way...working and working for Ama Foundation. I was inspired by her words, but still had many task to complete and I was yet to feel truly compelled to seek a new reality. I learned that my Montessori upper elementary and middle school teacher Elise Huneke-Stone was taking the primary training at MINW in Portland. I learned that my first teacher, Ginni Sackett was the head primary trainer at MINW. Slowly I made the connection.

"take the Montessori training" said a small voice said inside of me. but i wasn't quite ready.

one day i heard "TAKE THE MONTESSORI TRAINING" a bit more loudly. I looked up the program online and BOOM, it hit me. and I made my decision.

Now it seems obvious, but just a year ago I had no such clarity. Open your eyes. The answer will reveal itself.