Eating organic produce, or anything green at all, is out of character for East Texans.
They want their factory-farmed steroid-riddled meat breaded, deep-fried, and drenched in gravy. Don’t forget to add a side of fries and a large sweet tea.
I was no exception. But, by some strange impulse, I decided that I wanted to volunteer on an organic farm where I could have access to an endless supply of fresh produce.
As a McDonald’s-loving 16-year-old who spent every summer sleeping in until noon, volunteering for a job that involved rolling out of bed at 5 a.m. and, worse, vegetables, was beyond out of character. My family was shocked, my friends were shocked and I was shocked.
But I was only one of many unlikely characters charmed by Cindy and Bryan Pruett’s approach to farming.
The couple decided to open Appleby Community Farm in Nacogdoches, Texas to fight the small town’s poor health.
The Pruetts began to farm, throwing the conventions out the window. No pesticides, no herbicides, no genetically modified produce. They felt passionate about providing Nacogdoches with fresh foods that no grocery store could offer.
Appleby Community Farm is identified as a CSA, which stands for community supported agriculture. There is a CSA movement across the country, as more people begin to take an interest in fresh, healthy foods and the importance of local farming.
For CSAs, locals purchase seasonal memberships to the farm and pick up weekly shares. Members are also required to work a certain number of hours on the farm each season in exchange for their produce, doing tasks such as weeding, planting or harvesting vegetables.
The beauty of this system is that it not only provides healthy food, but also connects members to a community that is passionate about sustainable living and agriculture. It’s like a built-in support group for people who are fighting America’s destructive system of food production.
In rural East Texas, use of the word “organic” automatically means that you’re one of those weirdies who voted for Obama and believes in that ridiculous global warming conspiracy. Trying to spread the word about the benefits of locally grown, chemical-free food is social suicide.
Even worse is trying to explain the science behind eating fresh, raw vegetables over cooked vegetables, which, per southern tradition, usually requires butter and bacon. Two ingredients that are notorious for clogging arteries somehow become healthy when a few collard greens are added to the mix.
But even in such a culture blinded by the tasty goodness of processed and factory farmed foods, some have seen the light. Appleby Community Farm has a thriving group of members who want their food to come from a trusted source.
There’s something rewarding in being involved in the process of putting food on the table. From planting a seed in the ground, to carefully watering each day, to watching the plant grow, and finally picking a beautiful fresh tomato off the vine creates a huge sense of accomplishment. And while not all members have much time to contribute labor, they still see the garden growing and changing each week when they pick up their shares.
Convincing Nacogdoches residents of the life-changing benefits of turning away from the grocery store food culture is a slow-moving process, to say the least. Before moving to Dallas, it seemed like there would never be a large enough demand in America to do away with eating mass-produced foods.
But I have been encouraged by the change I see in Dallas, with new restaurants opening all the time that boast of organic menu items. Big grocery stores like Whole Foods Market sell local produce and organic alternatives to nearly any food found in other stores. I have hope that the movement will make its way to my hometown.
The demand for something better, fresher, cleaner and sustainable is becoming more and more prevalent. Americans can’t just make the jump from having food that’s instantly available to eating solely from farms and gardens in their area, but we’re making progress.
Thrall is a junior majoring in journalism and film.