A cultural divide in
farming communities squelches conversation about hot-button issues like
pesticides.
Recently she looked out her window and saw a worker spraying
pesticides on her neighbor’s farm.
Concerned for the health of her baby, she
called the neighbor about the spraying. “Oh,” the neighbor asked, “do you want
him to spray your land too?”
She remained polite on the phone but was internally panicked.
What had he sprayed, and how would it affect her child?
In the day that followed, she faced dilemmas like whether to
take the dog in the car and walk him somewhere else, or even not to walk him at
all.
Was the land around her poisoned? Could she walk anywhere
without endangering her child? She became a virtual prisoner in her home.
She’s not the only one I know who lives in the country and faces
issues like this.
She doesn’t see a way to approach them about issues like these to
achieve any kind of good results.
Thanks to this divide, what could be a matter of common courtesy
— neighbors having a reasonable conversation to keep from imposing on one
another — feels impossible.
The question of “organic vs. pesticides” or “local food vs.
industrial food” (or however else you want to frame it) hasn’t been a rational
debate for a long time. It’s ideological. To the farmers in the two anecdotes
above, it’s likely an identity issue.
That is, in farming communities, one’s stance on pesticides or
so-called factory farms becomes a part of one’s identity. Anyone who disagrees
with you isn’t just engaging in a reasonable disagreement — they’re attacking
your very identity.
How do we shift the discourse? How can neighbors learn to have
reasonable — and honest — discussions about hot-button food issues?
It can be done. I’ve done it.
I’ve also not done it.
That is, with some people, I’ve been able to have a frank
conversation in which each of us is honest. We spoke as human beings, despite
some fundamental disagreements.
But in other cases, we couldn’t get past talking points and
slogans. Some people, for example, claimed that anyone who takes issue with
pesticides or any other agricultural practice is “anti-farmer.” When that’s the
case, talking to one another is a pure waste of time.
Right now, we stand at a point in history when most Americans
are separated from the production of their food, but also when more and more of
us are concerned about where it comes from.
Sometimes that enthusiasm gets ahead of our knowledge of
farming, but that’s not a reason to dismiss anyone. It’s a reason for dialogue.
Each side has something to learn and something to contribute.
We can go in two directions. Either each side can become more
polarized and more entrenched in their positions, or each side can open up to
discussion. Let’s take the high road.
OtherWords
columnist Jill Richardson is the author of Recipe for America: Why
Our Food System Is Broken and What We Can Do to Fix It. OtherWords.org.